60393 ---- GAME PRESERVE BY ROG PHILLIPS _The hunters were necessary, of course--but there was the other side of the picture too._ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] _The first of the_ morons, _as they were popularly called, though they were totally lacking in intelligence, were born in 1971, eleven years after the Mutual Retaliation phase of the big war-that-no-one-started, the majority of them near the big, bombed-out cities. By 1973, with the aid of the electron microscope, the scientists had learned all about it. Parents and offspring were sterilized and the offspring placed in state institutions. By 1983 there were too many of them. A new solution to the impossible situation was tried, large isolated areas in the south where the climate was mild were made into preserves for them. In the wilds the_ morons _banded into small herds that showed no inclination to roam. By 1985 no more of the_ morons _were being born, thanks to the sterilization of all parents carrying the contaminated gene. It was thought the problem was permanently solved, through perfect cooperation between science, the government, and the public. If the contamination had not been weeded out of the race one fourth of every generation for all the future would have been without any intelligence whatever._ _But here and there had been natural births, unattended by a doctor; and parental love coupled with fear of being sterilized and thus denied further parenthood had brought into existence a few thousand unsterilized_ morons, _hidden away in attic rooms or in basements. And to these parents the Preserves offered the logical solution too--drive into the nearest Preserve and turn the child loose with its kind. Thus, a new generation came into being in the scattered herds, and by 2010 A.D. a new problem had come into being. Thanks to impurities in the_ moron _strain or to wandering renegades--or both--a few normally intelligent offspring were appearing in the herds. There was danger of these recontaminating the race, if they left the herds, learned to speak, wear clothes...._ _In 2010 the government attempted a mass sterilization of the herds but the herds were too wild by now, and the males too dangerous, so the sterilization program was abandoned and a new plan substituted. The government Hunters came into being, small patrol groups whose job was to pick off the renegades and any members of the herds that were intelligent._ * * * * * "Hi-hi-hi!" Big One shouted, and heaved erect with the front end of It. "Hi-hi-hi," Fat One and the dozen others echoed more mildly, lifting wherever they could get a hold on It. It was lifted and borne forward in a half crouching trot. "Hi-hi hi-hi-hihihi," Elf chanted, running and skipping alongside the panting men and their massive burden. It was carried forward through the lush grass for perhaps fifty feet. "Ah-ah-ah," Big One sighed loudly, slowly letting the front end of It down until it dug into the soft black soil. "Ahhh," Fat One and the others sighed, letting go and standing up, stretching aching back muscles, rubbing cramped hands. "Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah," Elf sang, running around and in between the resting men. He came too close to Big One and was sent sprawling by a quick, good humored push. Everyone laughed, Big One laughing the loudest. Then Big One lifted Elf to his feet and patted him on the back affectionately, a broad grin forming a toothy gap at the top of his bushy black beard. Elf answered the grin with one of his own, and at that moment his ever present yearning to grow up to be the biggest and the strongest like Big One flowed through him with new strength. Abruptly Big One leaped to the front end of It, shouting "Hi-hi-HI!" "Hi-hi-hi," the others echoed, scrambling to their places. Once again It was borne forward for fifty feet--and again and again, across the broad meadowland. A vast matting of blackberry brambles came into view off to one side. Big One veered his course toward it. The going was uphill now, so the forward surges shortened to forty feet, then thirty. By the time they reached the blackberries they were wet and glossy with sweat. It was a healthy patch, loaded with large ripe berries. The men ate hungrily at first, then more leisurely, pointing to one another's stained beards and laughing. As they denuded one area they leaped to It, carried it another ten feet, and started stripping another section, never getting more than a few feet from It. Elf picked his blackberries with first one then another of the men. When his hunger was satisfied he became mischievous, picking a handful of berries and squashing them against the back or the chest of the nearest man and running away, laughing. It was dangerous sport, he knew, because if one of them caught him he would be tossed into the brambles. Eventually they all had their fill, and thanks to Elf looked as though they were oozing blackberry juice from every pore. The sun was in its mid-afternoon position. In the distance a line of white-barked trees could be seen--evidence of a stream. "Hi-hi-hi!" Big One shouted. The journey toward the trees began. It was mostly downhill, so the forward spurts were often as much as a hundred feet. Before they could hear the water they could smell it. They grunted their delight at the smell, a rich fish odor betokening plenty of food. Intermingled with this odor was the spicy scent of eucalyptus. They pushed forward with renewed zeal so that the sweat ran down their skins, dissolving the berry juices and making rivulets that looked like purple blood. When less than a hundred yards from the stream, which was still hidden beyond the tall grasses and the trees lining its bank, they heard the sound of voices, high pitched--women's voices. They became uneasy and nervous. Their surges forward shortened to ten feet, their rest periods became longer, they searched worriedly for signs of motion through the trees. They changed their course to arrive a hundred yards downstream from the source of the women's voices. Soon they reached the edge of the tree belt. It was more difficult to carry It through the scatterings of bushes. Too, they would get part way through the trees and run into trees too close together to get It past them, and have to back out and try another place. It took almost two hours to work through the trees to the bank of the stream. Only Elf recognized the place they finally broke through as the place they had left more than two days before. In that respect he knew he was different, not only from Big One and other grownups, but also all other Elfs except one, a girl Elf. He had known it as long as he could remember. He had learned it from many little things. For example, he had recognized the place when they reached it. Big One and the others never remembered anything for long. In getting It through the trees they blundered as they always had, and got through by trial and error with no memory of past blunderings. Elf was different in another way, too. He could make more sounds than the others. Sometimes he would keep a little It with him until it gave him a feeling of security almost as strong as the big It, then wander off alone with It and play with making sounds. "Bz-bz. Walla-walla-walla-rue-rue-la-lo-hi. Da!" and all kinds of sounds. It excited him to be able to make different sounds and put them together so that they pleased his hearing, but such sounds made the others avoid him and look at him from a safe distance, with worried expressions, so he had learned not to make _different_ sounds within earshot of the others. * * * * * The women and Elfs were upstream a hundred yards, where they always remained. From the way they were milling around and acting alarmed it was evident to Elf they could no more remember the men having been here a few days before than the men could remember it themselves. It would be two or three days before they slowly lost their fear of one another. It would be the women and their Elfs who would cautiously approach, holding their portable Its clutched for security, until, finally losing all fear, they would join into one big group for a while. Big One and the others carried It right to the water's edge so they could get into the water without ever being far from It. They shivered and shouted excitedly as they bathed. Fat One screamed with delight as he held a squirming fish up for the others to see. He bit into it with strong white teeth, water dripping from his heavy brown beard. Renewed hunger possessed him. He gobbled the fish and began searching for another. He always caught two fish for any other man's one, which was why he was fat. Elf himself caught a fish. After eating it he lay on the grassy bank looking up at the white billowing clouds in the blue sky. The sun was now near the horizon, half hidden behind a cloud, sending divergent ramps of light downward. The clouds on the western horizon were slowly taking on color until red, orange, and green separated into definite areas. The soft murmur of the stream formed a lazy background to the excited voices of the men. From upstream, faintly, drifted the woman and Elf sounds. Here, close to the ground, the rich earthy smell was stronger than that of the stream. After a time a slight breeze sprang up, bringing with it other odors, that of distant pines, the pungent eucalyptus, a musky animal scent. Big One and the others were out of the water, finally. Half asleep, Elf watched them move It up to dry ground. As though that was what the sun had been waiting for, it sank rapidly below the horizon. The clouds where the sun had been seemed now to blaze for a time with a smoldering redness that cooled to black. The stars came out, one by one. A multitude of snorings erupted into the night. Elf crept among the sleeping forms until he found Big One, and settled down for the night, his head against Big One's chest, his right hand resting against the cool smooth metal of It. * * * * * Elf awoke with the bright morning sun directly in his eyes. Big One was gone, already wading in the stream after fish. Some of the others were with him. A few were still sleeping. Elf leaped to his feet, paused to stretch elaborately, then splashed into the stream. As soon as he caught a fish he climbed out onto the bank and ate it. Then he turned to his search for a little It. There were many lying around, all exactly alike. He studied several, not touching some, touching and even nudging others. Since they all looked alike it was more a matter of _feel_ than any real difference that he looked for. One and only one seemed to be the It. Elf returned his attention to it several times. Finally he picked it up and carried it over to the big It, and hid it underneath. Big One, with shouts of sheer exuberance, climbed up onto the bank dripping water. He grinned at Elf. Elf looked in the direction of the women and other Elfs. Some of them were wandering in his direction, each carrying an It of some sort, many of them similar to the one he had chosen. In sudden alarm at the thought that someone might steal his new It, Elf rescued it from its hiding place. He tried to hide it behind him when any of the men looked his way. They scorned an individual It and, as men, preferred an It too heavy for one person. As the day advanced, women and Elfs approached nearer, pretending to be unaware at times that the men were here, at other times openly fleeing back, overcome by panic. The men never went farther than twenty feet from the big It. But as the women came closer the men grew surly toward one another. By noon two of them were trying to pick a fight with anyone who would stand up to them. Elf clutched his little It closely and moved cautiously downstream until he was twenty feet from the big It. Tentatively he went another few feet--farther than any of the men dared go from the big It. At first he felt secure, then panic overcame him and he ran back, dropping the little It. He touched the big It until the panic was gone. After a while he went to the little It and picked it up. He walked around, carrying it, until he felt secure with it again. Finally he went downstream again, twenty feet, twenty-five feet, thirty.... He felt panic finally, but not overwhelmingly. When it became almost unendurable he calmly turned around and walked back. Confidence came to him. An hour later he went downstream until he was out of sight of the big It and the men. Security seemed to flow warmly from the little It. Excitement possessed Elf. He ran here and there, clutching It closely so as not to drop it and lose it. He felt _free_. "Bdlboo," he said aloud, experimentally. He liked the sounds. "Bdlboo--bdlboo--bdlboo." He saw a berry bush ahead and ran to it to munch on the delicious fruit. "Riddle piddle biddle," he said. It sounded nice. He ran on, and after a time he found a soft grassy spot and stretched out on his back, holding It carelessly in one hand. He looked up and up, at a layer of clouds going in one direction and another layer above it going in another direction. Suddenly he heard voices. At first he thought the wind must have changed so that it was carrying the voices of the men to him. He lay there listening. Slowly he realized these voices were different. They were putting sounds together like those he made himself. A sense of wonder possessed him. How could there be anyone besides himself who could do that? Unafraid, yet filled with caution, he clutched It closely to his chest and stole in the direction of the sounds. After going a hundred yards he saw signs of movement through the trees. He dropped to the ground and lay still for a moment, then gained courage to rise cautiously, ready to run. Stooping low, he stole forward until he could see several moving figures. Darting from tree to tree he moved closer to them, listening with greater excitement than he had ever known to the smoothly flowing variety of beautiful sounds they were making. This was something new, a sort of game they must be playing. One voice would make a string of sounds then stop, another would make a string of different sounds and stop, a third would take it up. They were good at it, too. But the closer he got to them the more puzzled he became. They were shaped somewhat like people, they carried Its, they had hands and faces like people. That's as far as the similarity went. Their feet were solid, their arms, legs, and body were not skin at all but strangely colored and unliving in appearance. Their faces were smooth like women's, their hair short like babies', their voices deep like men's. And the Its they carried were unlike any Elf had ever seen. Not only that, each of them carried more than one. _That_ was an _idea_! Elf became so excited he almost forgot to keep hidden. If you had more than one It, then if something happened to one you would still feel secure! He resisted the urge to return to the stream and search for another little It to give him extra security. If he did that he might never again find these creatures that were so like men and yet so different. So instead, he filed the idea away to use at the earliest opportunity and followed the strange creatures, keeping well hidden from them. * * * * * Soon Elf could hear the shouts of the men in the distance. From the behavior of the creatures ahead, they had heard those shouts too. They changed their direction so as to reach the stream a hundred yards or more downstream at about the spot where Elf had left. They made no voice sounds now that Elf could hear. They clutched their strangely shaped long Its before them tensely as though feeling greater security that way, their heads turning this way and that as they searched for any movement ahead. They moved purposefully. An overwhelming sense of kinship brought tears to Elf's eyes. These creatures were _his kind_. Their differences from him were physical and therefore superficial, and even if those differences were greater it wouldn't have mattered. He wanted, suddenly, to run to them. But the thought of it sent fear through him. Also they might run in panic from him if he suddenly revealed himself. It would have to be a mutual approach, he felt. He was used to seeing them now. In due time he would reveal himself for a brief moment to them. Later he would stay in the open and watch them, making no move to approach until they got used to him being around. It might take days, but eventually, he felt sure, he could join them without causing them to panic. After all, there had been the time when he absented himself from the men for three whole days and when he returned they had forgotten him, and his sudden appearance in their midst had sent even Big One into spasms of fear. Unable to flee from the security of the big It, and unable to bear his presence among them without being used to him, they had all fallen on the ground in a fit. He had had to retreat and wait until they recovered. Then, slowly, he had let them get used to his being in sight before approaching again. It had taken two full days to get to the point where they would accept him once more. That experience, Elf felt, would be valuable to remember now. He wouldn't want to plunge these creatures into fits or see them scatter and run away. Also, he was too afraid right now to reveal himself even though every atom of his being called for their companionship. Suddenly he made another important discovery. Some of the Its these creatures carried had something like pliable vines attached to them so they could be hung about the neck! The thought was so staggering that Elf stopped and examined his It to see if that could be done to it. It was twice as long as his hand and round one way, tapering to a small end that opened to the hollow inside. It was too smooth to hold with a pliable vine unless--He visualized pliable vines woven together to hold It. He wasn't sure how it could be done, but maybe it could. He set the idea aside for the future and caught up with the creatures again, looking at them with a new emotion, awe. The ideas he got just from watching them were so staggering he was getting dizzy! Another new thought hit him. He rejected it at once as being too fantastic. It returned. Leaves are thin and pliable and can be wrapped around small objects like pebbles. Could it be that these creatures were really men of some sort, with bodies like men, covered with something thin like leaves are thin? It was a new and dizzy height in portable securities, and hardly likely. No. He rejected the idea with finality and turned his mind to other things. He knew now where they could reach the stream. He decided to circle them and get ahead of them. For the next few minutes this occupied his full attention, leaving no room for crazy thoughts. He reached the stream and hid behind some bushes where he would have a quick line of retreat if necessary. He clutched It tightly and waited. In a few moments he saw the first of the creatures emerge a hundred feet away. The others soon joined the first. Elf stole forward from concealment to concealment until he was only fifteen feet from them. His heart was pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement. His knuckles were white from clutching It. The creatures were still carrying on their game of making sounds, but now in an amazing new way that made them barely audible. Elf listened to the incredibly varied sounds, enraptured. "This colony seems to have remained pure." "You never can tell." "No, you never can tell. Get out the binoculars and look, Joe." "Not just yet, Harold. I'm looking to see if I can spot one whose behavior shows intelligence." Elf ached to imitate some of the beautiful combinations of sounds. He wanted to experiment and see if he could make the softly muted voices. He had an idea how it might be done, not make a noise in your throat but breathe out and form the sounds with your mouth just like you were uttering them aloud. One of the creatures fumbled at an It hanging around his neck. The top of it hinged back. He reached in and brought out a gleaming It and held it so that it covered his eyes. He was facing toward the men upstream and stood up slowly. "See something, Joe?" Suddenly Elf was afraid. Was this some kind of magic? He had often puzzled over the problem of whether things were there when he didn't look at them. He had experimented, closing his eyes then opening them suddenly to see if things were still there, and they always were; but maybe this was magic to make the men not be there. Elf waited, watching upstream, but Big One and the others did not vanish. The one called Joe chuckled. "The toy the adult males have would be a museum piece if it were intact. A 1960 Ford, I think. Only one wheel on it, right front." Elf's attention jerked back. One of the creatures was reaching over his shoulder, lifting on the large It fastened there. The top of the It pulled back. He reached inside, bringing out something that made Elf almost exclaim aloud. It was shaped exactly like the little It Elf was carrying, but it glistened in the sunlight and its interior was filled with a richly brown fluid. "Anyone else want a coke?" "This used to be a picnic area," the one called Joe said, not taking his eyes from the binoculars. "I can see a lot of pop bottles lying around in the general area of that wreck of a Ford." While Elf watched, breathless, the creature reached inside the skin of his hip and brought out a very small It and did something to the small end of the hollow It. Putting the very small It back under the skin of his hip, he put the hollow It to his lips and tilted it. Elf watched the brown liquid drain out. Here was magic. Such an It--the very one he carried--could be filled with water from the stream and carried around to drink any time! When the It held no more liquid the creature dropped it to the ground. Elf could not take his eyes from it. He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything. They might forget it. Sometimes the women dropped their Its and forgot them, picking up another one instead, and these creatures had beardless faces like women. Besides, each of them carried so many Its that they would feel just as secure without this one. So many Its! One of the creatures held a flat white It in one hand and a very slim It shaped like a straight section of a bush stem, pointed at one end, with which he scratched on the white It at times, leaving black designs. "There're fourteen males," the one called Joe whispered. The other wrote it down. The way these creatures did things, Elf decided, was very similar to the way Big One and the other men went at moving the big It. They were very much like men in their actions, these creatures. "Eighty-five or six females." "See any signs of intelligent action yet?" "No. A couple of the males are fighting. Probably going to be a mating free-for-all tomorrow or next day. There's one! Just a minute, I want to make sure. It's a little girl, maybe eight or nine years old. Good forehead. Her eyes definitely lack that large marble-like quality of the sub-moron parent species. She's intelligent all right. She's drawing something in the sand with a stick. Give me your rifle, Bill, it's got a better telescope sight on it than mine, and I don't want her to suffer." That little It, abandoned on the ground. Elf wanted it. One of the creatures would be sure to pick it up. Elf worried. He would never get it then. If only the creatures would go, or not notice him. If only-- The creature with the thing over his eyes put it back where he had gotten it out of the thing hanging from his shoulder. He had taken one of the long slim things from another of the creatures and placed the thick end against his shoulder, the small end pointed upstream. The others were standing, their backs to Elf, all of them looking upstream. If they would remain that way, maybe he could dart out and get the little It. In another moment they might lose interest in whatever they were watching. Elf darted out from his concealment and grabbed the It off the ground, and in the same instant an ear shattering sound erupted from the long slim thing against the creature's shoulder. * * * * * "Got her!" the creature said. Paralyzed with fright, Elf stood motionless. One of the creatures started to turn his way. At the last instant Elf darted back to his place of concealment. His heart was pounding so loudly he felt sure they would hear it. "You sure, Joe?" "Right through the head. She never knew what happened." Elf held the new It close to him, ready to run if he were discovered. He didn't dare look at it yet. It wouldn't notice if he just held it and felt it without looking at it. It was cold at first, colder than the water in the stream. Slowly it warmed. He dared to steal a quick glance at it. It gleamed at him as though possessed of inner life. A new feeling of security grew within him, greater than he had ever known. The other It, the one half filled with dried mud, and deeply scratched from the violent rush of water over it when the stream went over its banks, lay forgotten at his feet. "Well, that finishes the survey trip for this time." Elf paid little attention to the voice whispers now, too wrapped up in his new feelings. "Yes, and quite a haul. Twenty-two colonies--three more than ten years ago. Fourteen of them uncontaminated, seven with only one or two intelligent offspring to kill, only one colony so contaminated we had to wipe it out altogether. And one renegade." "The renegades are growing scarcer every time. Another ten or twenty years and they'll be extinct." "Then there won't be any more intelligent offspring in these colonies." "Let's get going. It'll be dark in another hour or so." The creatures were hiding some of their Its under their skin, in their carrying cases. There was a feeling about them of departure. Elf waited until they were on the move, back the way they had come, then he followed at a safe distance. He debated whether to show himself now or wait. The sun was going down in the sky now. It wouldn't be long until it went down for the night. Should he wait until in the morning to let them get their first glimpse of him? He smiled to himself. He had plenty of time. Tomorrow and tomorrow. He would never return to Big One and the other men. Men or creatures, he would join with these new and wonderful creatures. They were _his kind_. He thought of the girl Elf. They were her kind, too. If he could only get her to come with him. On sudden impulse he decided to try. These creatures were going back the same way they had come. If he ran, and if she came right with him, they could catch up with the creatures before they went so far they would lose them. He turned back, going carefully until he could no longer see the creatures, then he ran. He headed directly toward the place where the women and Elfs stayed. They would not be so easily alarmed as the men because there were so many of them they couldn't remember one another, and one more or less of the Elfs went unnoticed. * * * * * When he reached the clearing he slowed to a walk, looking for her. Ordinarily he didn't have to look much. She would see him and come to him, smiling in recognition of the fact that he was the only one like her. He became a little angry. Was she hiding? Then he saw her. He went to her. She was on her stomach, motionless as though asleep, but something was different. There was a hole in one side of her head, and on the opposite side it was torn open, red and grayish white, with--He knelt down and touched her. She had the same inert feel to her that others had had who never again moved. He studied her head curiously. He had never seen anything like this. He shook her. She remained limp. He sighed. He knew what would happen now. It was already happening. The odor was very faint yet, but she would not move again, and day after day the odor would get stronger. No one liked it. He would have to hurry or he would lose the creatures. He turned and ran, never looking back. Once he started to cry, then stopped in surprise. Why had he been crying, he wondered. He hadn't hurt himself. He caught up with the creatures. They were hurrying now, their long slender Its balanced on one shoulder, the big end resting in the palm of the hand. They no longer moved cautiously. Shortly it was new country. Elf had never been this far from the stream. Big One more or less led the men, and always more or less followed the same route in cross country trips. The creatures didn't spend hours stumbling along impossible paths. They looked ahead of them and selected a way, and took it. Also they didn't have a heavy It to transport, fifty feet at a time. Elf began to sense they had a destination in mind. Probably the place they lived. * * * * * Just ahead was a steep bank, higher than a man, running in a long line. The creatures climbed the bank and vanished on the other side. Cautiously Elf followed them, heading toward a large stone with It qualities at the top of the bank from whose concealment he could see where they had gone without being seen. He reached it and cautiously peeked around it. Just below him were the creatures, but what amazed Elf was the sight of the big It. It was very much like the big It the men had, except that there were differences in shape, and instead of one round thing at one corner, it had one at each corner and rested on them so that it was held off the ground. It glistened instead of being dull. It had a strange odor that was quite strong. The creatures were putting some of their Its into it, two of them had actually climbed into it--something neither Elf nor the men had ever dared to do with their own big It. Elf took his eyes off of it for a moment to marvel at the ground. It seemed made of stone, but such stone as he had never before seen. It was an even width with edges going in straight lines that paralleled the long narrow hill on which he stood, and on the other side was a similar hill, extending as far as the eye could see. He returned his attention to the creatures and their big It. The creatures had all climbed into it now. Possibly they were settling down for the night, though it was still early for that.... No matter. There was plenty of time. Tomorrow and tomorrow. Elf would show himself in the morning, then run away. He would come back again after a while and show himself a little longer, giving them time to get used to him so they wouldn't panic. They were playing their game of making voice sounds to one another again. It seemed their major preoccupation. Elf thought how much fun it would be to be one of them, making voice sounds to his heart's content. "I don't see why the government doesn't wipe out the whole lot," one of them was saying. "It's hopeless to keep them alive. Feeble-mindedness is dominant in them. They can't be absorbed into the race again, and any intelligent offspring they get from mating with a renegade would start a long line of descendents, at least one fourth of whom would be mindless idiots." "Well," another of them said, "It's one of those things where there is no answer. Wipe them out, and next year it would be all the blond haired people to be wiped out to keep the race of dark haired people pure, or something. Probably in another hundred years nature will take care of the problem by wiping them out for us. Meanwhile we game wardens must make the rounds every two years and weed out any of them we can find that have intelligence." He looked up the embankment but did not notice Elf's head, concealed partially by the grass around the concrete marker. "It's an easy job. Any of them we missed seeing this time, we'll probably get next time. In the six or eight visits we make before the intelligent ones can become adults and mate we always find them." "What I hate is when they see us, those intelligent ones," a third voice said. "When they walk right up to us and want to be friends with us it's too much like plain murder, except that they can't talk, and only make moronic sounds like 'Bdl-bdl-bdl.' Even so, it gets me when we kill them." The others laughed. Suddenly Elf heard a new sound from the big It. It was not a voice sound, or if it was it was one that Elf felt he could not possibly match exactly. It was a growling, "RRrrRRrrRRrr." Suddenly it was replaced by still a different sound, a "p-p-p-p-p" going very rapidly. Perhaps it was the way these creatures snored. It was not unpleasant. Elf cocked his head to one side, listening to the sound, smiling. How exciting it would be when he could join with these creatures! He wanted to so much. The big It began to move. In the first brief second Elf could not believe his senses. How could it move without being carried? But it was moving, and the creatures didn't seem to be aware of it! Or perhaps they were too overcome by fear to leap out! Already the big It was moving faster than a walk, and was moving faster with every heartbeat. How could they remain unaware of it and not leap to safety? Belatedly Elf abandoned caution and leaped down the embankment to the flat ribbon of rock, shouting. But already the big It was over a hundred yards away, and moving faster now than birds in flight! He shouted, but the creatures didn't hear him--or perhaps they were so overcome with fright that they were frozen. Yes, that must be it. Elf ran after the big It. If he could only catch up with it he would gladly join the creatures in their fate. Better to die with them than to lose them! He ran and ran, refusing to believe he could never overtake the big It, even when it disappeared from view, going faster than the wind. He ran and ran until his legs could lift no more. Blinded by tears, he tripped and sprawled full length on the wide ribbon of stone. His nose bled from hitting the hard surface. His knees were scraped and bleeding. He was unaware of this. He was aware only that the creatures were gone, to what unimaginable fate he could not guess, but lost to him, perhaps forever. Sobs welled up within him, spilled out, shaking his small naked body. He cried as he hadn't cried since he was a baby. And the empty Coca Cola bottle clutched forgotten in his hand glistened with the rays of the setting sun.... 33111 ---- THE ORIGIN OF THE FAMILY PRIVATE PROPERTY AND THE STATE BY FREDERICK ENGELS _TRANSLATED BY ERNEST UNTERMANN_ [Illustration: Logo] CHICAGO CHARLES H. KERR & COMPANY 1908 COPYRIGHT, 1902 BY CHARLES H. KERR & COMPANY TABLE OF CONTENTS. Page. Translator's Preface 5 Author's Prefaces 9-12 Prehistoric Stages 27 The Family 35 The Iroquois Gens 102 The Grecian Gens 120 Origin of the Attic State 131 Gens and State in Rome 145 The Gens Among Celts and Germans 158 The Rise of the State Among Germans 176 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. "An eternal being created human society as it is to-day, and submission to 'superiors' and 'authority' is imposed on the 'lower' classes by divine will." This suggestion, coming from pulpit, platform and press, has hypnotized the minds of men and proves to be one of the strongest pillars of exploitation. Scientific investigation has revealed long ago that human society is not cast in a stereotyped mould. As organic life on earth assumes different shapes, the result of a succession of chemical changes, so the group life of human beings develops different social institutions as a result of increasing control over environment, especially of production of food, clothing and shelter. Such is the message which the works of men like Bachofen, Morgan, Marx, Darwin, and others, brought to the human race. But this message never reached the great mass of humanity. In the United States the names of these men are practically unknown. Their books are either out of print, as is the case with the fundamental works of Morgan, or they are not translated into English. Only a few of them are accessible to a few individuals on the dusty shelves of some public libraries. Their message is dangerous to the existing order, and it will not do to give it publicity at a time when further intellectual progress of large bodies of men means the doom of the ruling class. The capitalist system has progressed so far, that all farther progress must bring danger to it and to those who are supreme through it. But the forces, which have brought about the present social order, continue their work regardless of the wishes of a few exploiters. A comprehensive work summarizing our present knowledge of the development of social institutions is, therefore, a timely contribution to socialist propaganda. In order to meet the requirements of socialists, such a summary must be written by a socialist. All the scientists who devoted themselves to the study of primeval society belonged to the privileged classes, and even the most radical of them, Lewis Morgan, was prevented by his environment from pointing out the one fact, the recognition of which distinguishes the socialist position from all others--THE EXISTENCE OF A CLASS STRUGGLE. The strongest allusion to this fact is found in the following passage of "Ancient Society": "Property and office were the foundations upon which aristocracy planted itself. Whether this principle shall live or die has been one of the great problems with which modern society has been engaged.... As a question between equal rights and unequal rights, between equal laws and unequal laws, between the rights of wealth, of rank and of official position, and the power of justice and intelligence, there can be little doubt of the ultimate result" (page 551). Yet Morgan held that "several thousand years have passed away without the overthrow of the privileged classes, excepting in the United States." But in the days of the trusts, of government by injunction, of sets of 400 with all the arrogance and exclusiveness of European nobility, of aristocratic branches of the Daughters of the Revolution, and other gifts of capitalist development, the modern American workingman will hardly share Morgan's optimistic view that there are no privileged classes in the United States. It must be admitted, however, that to this day Morgan's work is the most fundamental and exhaustive of any written on the subject of ancient social development. Westermarck's "History of Human Marriage" treats the question mainly from the standpoint of Ethnology and Natural History. As a scientific treatise it is entirely inadequate, being simply a compilation of data from all parts of the world, arranged without the understanding of gentile organizations or of the materialistic conception of history, and used for wild speculations. Kovalevsky's argument turns on the proposition that the patriarchal household is a typical stage of society, intermediate between the matriarchal and monogamic family. None of these men could discuss the matter from the proletarian point of view. For in order to do this, it is necessary to descend from the hills of class assumption into the valley of proletarian class-consciousness. This consciousness and the socialist mind are born together. The key to the philosophy of capitalism is the philosophy of socialism. With the rays of this searchlight, Engels exposed the pious "deceivers," property and the state, and their "lofty" ideal, covetousness. And the monogamic family, so far from being a divinely instituted "union of souls," is seen to be the product of a series of material and, in the last analysis, of the most sordid motives. But the ethics of property are worthy of a system of production that, in its final stage, shuts the overwhelming mass of longing humanity out from the happiness of home and family life, from all evolution to a higher individuality, and even drives progress back and forces millions of human beings into irrevocable degeneration. The desire for a higher life cannot awake in a man, until he is thoroughly convinced that his present life is ugly, low, and capable of improvement by himself. The present little volume is especially adapted to assist the exploited of both sexes in recognizing the actual causes which brought about their present condition. By opening the eyes of the deluded throng and reducing the vaporings of their ignorant or selfish would-be leaders in politics and education to sober reality, it will show the way out of the darkness and mazes of slavish traditions into the light and freedom of a fuller life on earth. These are the reasons for introducing this little volume to English speaking readers. Without any further apology, we leave them to its perusal and to their own conclusions. ERNEST UNTERMANN. Chicago, August, 1902. AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION, 1884. The following chapters are, in a certain sense, executing a bequest. It was no less a man than Karl Marx who had reserved to himself the privilege of displaying the results of Morgan's investigations in connection with his own materialistic conception of history--which I might call ours within certain limits. He wished thus to elucidate the full meaning of this conception. For in America, Morgan had, in a manner, discovered anew the materialistic conception of history, originated by Marx forty years ago. In comparing barbarism and civilization, he had arrived, in the main, at the same results as Marx. And just as "Capital" was zealously plagiarized and persistently passed over in silence by the professional economists in Germany, so Morgan's "Ancient Society"[1] was treated by the spokesmen of "prehistoric" science in England. My work can offer only a meager substitute for that which my departed friend was not destined to accomplish. But in his copious extracts from Morgan, I have critical notes which I herewith reproduce as fully as feasible. According to the materialistic conception, the decisive element of history is pre-eminently the production and reproduction of life and its material requirements. This implies, on the one hand, the production of the means of existence (food, clothing, shelter and the necessary tools); on the other hand, the generation of children, the propagation of the species. The social institutions, under which the people of a certain historical period and of a certain country are living, are dependent on these two forms of production; partly on the development of labor, partly on that of the family. The less labor is developed, and the less abundant the quantity of its production and, therefore, the wealth of society, the more society is seen to be under the domination of sexual ties. However, under this formation based on sexual ties, the productivity of labor is developed more and more. At the same time, private property and exchange, distinctions of wealth, exploitation of the labor power of others and, by this agency, the foundation of class antagonism, are formed. These new elements of society strive in the course of time to adapt the old state of society to the new conditions, until the impossibility of harmonizing these two at last leads to a complete revolution. The old form of society founded on sexual relations is abolished in the clash with the recently developed social classes. A new society steps into being, crystallized into the state. The units of the latter are no longer sexual, but local groups; a society in which family relations are entirely subordinated to property relations, thereby freely developing those class antagonisms and class struggles that make up the contents of all written history up to the present time. Morgan deserves great credit for rediscovering and re-establishing in its main outlines this foundation of our written history, and of finding in the sexual organizations of the North American Indians the key that opens all the unfathomable riddles of most ancient Greek, Roman and German history. His book is not the work of a short day. For more than forty years he grappled with the subject, until he mastered it fully. Therefore his work is one of the few epochal publications of our time. In the following demonstrations, the reader will, on the whole, easily distinguish what originated with Morgan and what was added by myself. In the historical sections on Greece and Rome, I have not limited myself to Morgan's material, but have added as much as I could supply. The sections on Celts and Germans essentially belong to me. Morgan had only sources of minor quality at his disposal, and for German conditions--aside from Tacitus--only the worthless, unbridled falsifications of Freeman. The economic deductions, sufficient for Morgan's purpose, but wholly inadequate for mine, were treated anew by myself. And lastly I am, of course, responsible for all final conclusions, unless Morgan is expressly quoted. FREDERICK ENGELS. AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION, 1891. The first large editions of this work have been out of print for nearly six months, and the publisher has for some time requested of me the arrangement of a new edition. Urgent duties have hitherto prevented me. Seven years have passed, since the first edition made its appearance; during this time, the study of primeval forms of the family has made considerable progress. Hence it became necessary to apply diligently the improving and supplementing hand, more especially, as the proposed stereotyping of the present text will make further changes impossible for some time. Consequently, I have subjected the whole text to a thorough revision and made a number of additions which, I hope, will give due recognition to the present stage of scientific progress. Furthermore, I give in the course of this preface a short synopsis of the history of the family as treated by various writers from Bachofen to Morgan. I am doing this mainly because the English prehistoric school, tinged with chauvinism, is continually doing its utmost to kill by its silence the revolution in primeval conceptions effected by Morgan's discoveries. At the same time this school is not at all backward in appropriating to its own use the results of Morgan's study. In certain other circles also this English example is unhappily followed rather extensively. My work has been translated into different languages. First into Italian; L'origine della famiglia, della proprietá privata e dello stato, versione riveduta dall' autore, di Pasquale Martignetti; Benevento, 1885. Then into Roumanian: Origina familei, proprietatei private si a statului, traducere de Ivan Nadejde, in the Jassy periodical "Contemporanul," September, 1885, to May, 1886. Furthermore into Danish: Familjens, Privatejendommens og Statens Oprindelse, Dansk, af Forfatteren gennemgaaet Udgave, besörget af Gerson Trier, Kjoebenhavn, 1888. A French translation by Henri Ravé, founded on the present German edition, is under the press. Up to the beginning of the sixties, a history of the family cannot be spoken of. This branch of historical science was then entirely under the influence of the decalogue. The patriarchal form of the family, described more exhaustively by Moses than by anybody else, was not only, without further comment, considered as the most ancient, but also as identical with the family of our times. No historical development of the family was even recognized. At best it was admitted that a period of sexual license might have existed in primeval times. To be sure, aside from monogamy, oriental polygamy and Indo-Tibethan polyandry were known; but these three forms could not be arranged in any historical order and stood side by side without any connection. That some nations of ancient history and some savage tribes of the present day did not trace their descent to the father, but to the mother, hence considered the female lineage as alone valid; that many nations of our time prohibit intermarrying inside of certain large groups, the extent of which was not yet ascertained and that this custom is found in all parts of the globe--these facts were known, indeed, and more examples were continually collected. But nobody knew how to make use of them. Even in E. B. Taylor's "Researches into the Early History of Mankind," etc. (1865), they are only mentioned as "queer customs" together with the usage of some savage tribes to prohibit the touching of burning wood with iron, tools, and similar religious absurdities. This history of the family dates from 1861, the year of the publication of Bachofen's "Mutterrecht" (maternal law). Here the author makes the following propositions: 1. That in the beginning people lived in unrestricted sexual intercourse, which he dubs, not very felicitously, hetaerism. 2. That such an intercourse excludes any absolutely certain means of determining parentage; that consequently descent could only be traced by the female line in compliance with maternal law--and that this was universally practiced by all the nations of antiquity. 3. That consequently women as mothers, being the only well known parents of younger generations, received a high tribute of respect and deference, amounting to a complete women's rule (gynaicocracy), according to Bachofen's idea. 4. That the transition to monogamy, reserving a certain woman exclusively to one man, implied the violation of a primeval religious law (i. e., practically a violation of the customary right of all other men to the same woman), which violation had to be atoned for or its permission purchased by the surrender of the women to the public for a limited time. Bachofen finds the proofs of these propositions in numerous quotations from ancient classics, collected with unusual diligence. The transition from "hetaerism" to monogamy and from maternal to paternal law is accomplished according to him--especially by the Greeks--through the evolution of religious ideas. New gods, the representatives of the new ideas, are added to the traditional group of gods, the representatives of old ideas; the latter are forced to the background more and more by the former. According to Bachofen, therefore, it is not the development of the actual conditions of life that has effected the historical changes in the relative social positions of man and wife, but the religious reflection of these conditions in the minds of men. Hence Bachofen represents the Oresteia of Aeschylos as the dramatic description of the fight between the vanishing maternal and the paternal law, rising and victorious during the time of the heroes. Klytaemnestra has killed her husband Agamemnon on his return from the Trojan war for the sake of her lover Aegisthos; but Orestes, her son by Agamemnon, avenges the death of his father by killing his mother. Therefore he is persecuted by the Erinyes, the demonic protectors of maternal law, according to which the murder of a mother is the most horrible, inexpiable crime. But Apollo, who has instigated Orestes to this act by his oracle, and Athene, who is invoked as arbitrator--the two deities representing the new paternal order of things--protect him. Athene gives a hearing to both parties. The whole question is summarized in the ensuing debate between Orestes and the Erinyes. Orestes claims that Klytemnaestra has committed a twofold crime: by killing her husband she has killed his father. Why do the Erinyes persecute him and not her who is far more guilty? The reply is striking: "She was not related by blood to the man whom she slew." The murder of a man not consanguineous, even though he be the husband of the murderess, is expiable, does not concern the Erinyes; it is only their duty to prosecute the murder of consanguineous relatives. According to maternal law, therefore, the murder of a mother is the most heinous and inexpiable crime. Now Apollo speaks in defense of Orestes. Athene then calls on the areopagites--the jurors of Athens--to vote; the votes are even for acquittal and for condemnation. Thereupon Athene as president of the jury casts her vote in favor of Orestes and acquits him. Paternal law has gained a victory over maternal law, the deities of the "younger generation," as the Erinyes call them, vanquish the latter. These are finally persuaded to accept a new office under the new order of things. This new, but decidedly accurate interpretation of the Oresteia is one of the most beautiful and best passages in the whole book, but it proves at the same time that Bachofen himself believes as much in the Erinyes, in Apollo and in Athene, as Aeschylos did in his day. He really believes, that they performed the miracle of securing the downfall of maternal law through paternal law during the time of the Greek heroes. That a similar conception, representing religion as the main lever of the world's history, must finally lead to sheer mysticism, is evident. Therefore it is a troublesome and not always profitable task to work your way through the big volume of Bachofen. Still, all this does not curtail the value of his fundamental work. He was the first to replace the assumption of an unknown primeval condition of licentious sexual intercourse by the demonstration that ancient classical literature points out a multitude of traces proving the actual existence among Greeks and Asiatics of other sexual relations before monogamy. These relations not only permitted a man to have intercourse with several women, but also left a woman free to have sexual intercourse with several men without violating good morals. This custom did not disappear without leaving as a survival the form of a general surrender for a limited time by which women had to purchase the right of monogamy. Hence descent could originally only be traced by the female line, from mother to mother. The sole legality of the female line was preserved far into the time of monogamy with assured, or at least acknowledged, paternity. Consequently, the original position of the mothers as the sole absolutely certain parents of their children secured for them and for all other women a higher social level than they have ever enjoyed since. Although Bachofen, biased by his mystic conceptions, did not formulate these propositions so clearly, still he proved their correctness. This was equivalent to a complete revolution in 1861. Bachofen's big volume was written In German, i. e., in the language of a nation that cared less than any other of its time for the history of the present family. Therefore he remained unknown. The man next succeeding him in the same field made his appearance in 1865 without having ever heard of Bachofen. This successor was J. F. McLennan, the direct opposite of his predecessor. Instead of the talented mystic, we have here the dry jurist; in place of the rank growth of poetical imagination, we find the plausible combinations of the pleading lawyer. McLennan finds among many savage, barbarian and even civilized people of ancient and modern times a type of marriage forcing the bride-groom, alone or in co-operation with his friends, to go through the form of a mock forcible abduction of the bride. This must needs be a survival of an earlier custom when men of one tribe actually secured their wives by forcible abduction from another tribe. How did this "robber marriage" originate? As long as the men could find women enough in their own tribe, there was no occasion for robbing. It so happens that we frequently find certain groups among undeveloped nations (which in 1865 were often considered identical with the tribes themselves), inside of which intermarrying was prohibited. In consequence the men (or women) of a certain group were forced to choose their wives (or husbands) outside of their group. Other tribes again observe the custom of forcing their men to choose their women inside of their own group only. McLennan calls the first exogamous, the second endogamous, and construes forthwith a rigid contrast between exogamous and endogamous "tribes." And though his own investigation of exogamy makes it painfully obvious that this contrast in many, if not in most or even in all cases, exists in his own imagination only, he nevertheless makes it the basis of his entire theory. According to the latter, exogamous tribes can choose their women only from other tribes. And as in conformity with their savage state a condition of continual warfare existed among such tribes, women could only be secured by abduction. McLennan further asks: Whence this custom of exogamy? The idea of consanguinity and rape could not have anything to do with it, since these conceptions were developed much later. But it was a widely spread custom among savages to kill female children immediately after their birth. This produced a surplus of males in such a tribe which naturally resulted in the condition where several men had one woman--polyandry. The next consequence was that the mother of a child could be ascertained, but not its father; hence: descent only traced by the female line and exclusion of male lineage--maternal law. And a second consequence of the scarcity of women in a certain tribe--a scarcity that was somewhat mitigated, but not relieved by polyandry--was precisely the forcible abduction of women from other tribes. "As exogamy and polyandry are referable to one and the same cause--a want of balance between the sexes--we are forced to regard all the exogamous races as having originally been polyandrous.... Therefore we must hold it to be beyond dispute that among exogamous races the first system of kinship was that which recognized blood-ties through mothers only."[2] It is the merit of McLennan to have pointed out the general extent and the great importance of what he calls exogamy. However, he has by no means discovered the fact of exogamous groups; neither did he understand their presence. Aside from earlier scattered notes of many observers--from which McLennan quoted--Latham had accurately and correctly described this institution among the Indian Magars[3] and stated that it was widespread and practiced in all parts of the globe. McLennan himself quotes this passage. As early as 1847, our friend Morgan had also pointed out and correctly described the same custom in his letters on the Iroquois (in the American Review) and in 1851 in "The League of the Iroquois." We shall see, how the lawyer's instinct of McLennan has introduced more disorder into this subject than the mystic imagination of Bachofen did into the field of maternal law. It must be said to McLennan's credit that he recognized the custom of tracing decent by maternal law as primeval, although Bachofen has anticipated him in this respect. McLennan has admitted this later on. But here again he is not clear on the subject. He always speaks of "kinship through females only" and uses this expression, correctly applicable to former stages, in connection with later stages of development, when descent and heredity were still exclusively traced along female lines, but at the same time kinship on the male side began to be recognized and expressed. It is the narrow-mindedness of the jurist, establishing a fixed legal expression and employing it incessantly to denote conditions to which it should no longer be applied. In spite of its plausibility, McLennan's theory did not seem too well founded even in the eyes of its author. At least he finds it remarkable himself "that the form of capture is now most distinctly marked and impressive just among those races which have male kinship."[4] And again: "It is a curious fact that nowhere now, that we are aware of, is infanticide a system where exogamy and the earliest form of kinship co-exists."[5] Both these facts directly disprove his method of explanation, and he can only meet them with new and still more complicated hypotheses. In spite of this, his theory found great approval and favor in England. Here McLennan was generally considered as the founder of the history of the family and as the first authority on this subject. His contrast of exogamous and endogamous "tribes" remained the recognized foundation of the customary views, however much single exceptions and modifications were admitted. This antithesis became the eye-flap that rendered impossible any free view of the field under investigation and, therefore, any decided progress. It is our duty to confront this overrating of McLennan, practised in England and copied elsewhere, with the fact that he has done more harm with his ill-conceived contrast of exogamous and endogamous tribes than he has done good by his investigations. Moreover, in the course of time more and more facts became known that did not fit into his neat frame. McLennan knew only three forms of marriage: polygamy, polyandry and monogamy. But once attention had been directed to this point, then more and more proofs were found that among undeveloped nations there were connubial forms in which a group of men possessed a group of women. Lubbock in his "Origin of Civilization" (1870) recognized this "communal marriage" as a historical fact. Immediately after him, in 1871, Morgan appeared with fresh and, in many respects, conclusive material. He had convinced himself that the peculiar system of kinship in vogue among the Iroquois was common to all the aborigines of the United States, and practised all over the continent, although it was in direct contradiction with all the degrees of relation arising from the connubial system in practice there. He prevailed on the federal government to collect information on the systems of kinship of other nations by the help of question blanks and tables drawn up by himself. The answers brought the following results: 1. The kinship system of the American Indians is also in vogue in Asia, and in a somewhat modified form among numerous tribes of Africa and Australia. 2. This system finds a complete explanation in a certain form of communal marriage now in process of decline in Hawaii and some Australian islands. 3. By the side of this marital form, there is in practice on the same islands a system of kinship only explicable by a still more primeval and now extinct form of communal marriage. The collected data and the conclusions of Morgan were published in his "Systems of Consanguinity and Affinity," 1871, and discussion transferred to a far more extensive field. Taking his departure from the system of affinity he reconstructed the corresponding forms of the family, thereby opening a new road to scientific investigation and extending the retrospective view into prehistoric periods of human life. Once this view gained recognition, then the frail structure of McLennan, would vanish into thin air. McLennan defended his theory in the new edition of "Primitive Marriage" (Studies in Ancient History, 1875). While he himself most artificially combines into a history of the family a number of hypotheses, he not only demands proofs from Lubbock and Morgan for every one of their propositions, but insists on proofs of such indisputable validity as is solely recognized in a Scotch court. And this is done by the same man who unhesitatingly concludes that the following people practiced polyandry: The Germans, on account of the intimate relation between uncle and nephew (mother's brother and sister's son); the Britons, because Cesar reports that the Britons have ten to twelve women in common; barbarians, because all other reports of the old writers on community of women are misinterpreted by him! One is reminded of a prosecuting attorney who takes all possible liberty in making up his case, but who demands the most formal and legally valid proof for every word of the lawyer for the defense. He asserts that communal marriage is purely the outgrowth of imagination, and in so doing falls far behind Bachofen. He represents Morgan's systems of affinity as mere codes of conventional politeness, proven by the fact that Indians address also strangers, white people, as brother or father. This is like asserting that the terms father, mother, brother, sister are simply meaningless forms of address, because Catholic priests and abbesses are also addressed as father and mother, and monks and nuns, or even free-masons and members of English professional clubs in solemn session, as brother and sister. In short, McLennan's defense was extremely weak. One point still remained that had not been attacked. The contrast of exogamous and endogamous tribes, on which his whole system was founded, was not only left unchallenged, but was even generally regarded as the pivotal point of the entire history of the family. It was admitted that McLennan's attempt to explain this contrast was insufficient and in contradiction with the facts enumerated by himself. But the contrast itself, the existence of two diametrically opposed forms of independent and absolute groups, one of them marrying the women of its own group, the other strictly forbidding this habit, was considered irrefutable gospel. Compare e. g. Giraud-Teulon's "Origines de la famille" (1874) and even Lubbock's "Origin of Civilization" (4th edition, 1882). At this point Morgan's main work, "Ancient Society" (1877), inserts its lever. It is this work on which the present volume is based. Here we find clearly demonstrated what was only dimly perceived by Morgan in 1871. There is no antithesis between endogamy and exogamy; no exogamous "tribes" have been found up to the present time. But at the time when communal marriage still existed--and in all probability it once existed everywhere--a tribe was subdivided into a number of groups--"gentes"--consanguineous on the mother's side, within which intermarrying was strictly forbidden. The men of a certain "gens," therefore, could choose their wives within the tribe, and did so as a rule, but had to choose them outside of the "gens." And while thus the "gens" was strictly exogamous, the tribe comprising an aggregate of "gentes" was equally endogamous. This fact gave the final blow to McLennan's artificial structure. But Morgan did not rest here. The "gens" of the American Indians furthermore assisted him in gaining another important step in the field under investigation. He found that this "gens," organized in conformity with maternal law, was the original form out of which later on the "gens" by paternal law developed, such as we find it among the civilized nations of antiquity. The Greek and Roman "gens," an unsolved riddle to all historians up to our time, found its explanation in the Indian "gens." A new foundation was discovered for the entire primeval history. The repeated discovery that the original maternal "gens" was a preliminary stage of the paternal "gens" of civilized nations has the same signification for primeval history that Darwin's theory of evolution had for biology and Marx's theory of surplus value for political economy. Morgan was thereby enabled to sketch the outline of a history of the family, showing in bold strokes at least the classic stages of development, so far as the available material will at present permit such a thing. It is clearly obvious that this marks a new epoch in the treatment of primeval history. The maternal "gens" has become the pivot on which this whole science revolves. Since its discovery we know in what direction to continue our researches, what to investigate and how to arrange the results of our studies. In consequence, progress in this field is now much more rapid than before the publication of Morgan's book. The discoveries of Morgan are now universally recognized, or rather appropriated, even by the archaeologists of England. But hardly one of them openly admits that we owe this revolution of thought to Morgan. His book is ignored in England as much as possible, and he himself is dismissed with condescending praise for the excellence of his former works. The details of his discussion are diligently criticised, but his really great discoveries are covered up obstinately. The original edition of "Ancient Society" is out of print; there is no paying market for a work of this kind in America; in England, it appears, the book was systematically suppressed, and the only edition of this epochal work still circulating in the market is--the German translation. Whence this reserve? We can hardly refrain from calling it a conspiracy to kill by silence, especially in view of the numerous meaningless and polite quotations and of other manifestations of fellowship in which the writings of our recognized archaeologists abound. Is it because Morgan is an American, and because it is rather hard on the English archaeologists to be dependent on two talented foreigners like Bachofen and Morgan for the outlines determining the arrangement and grouping of their material, in spite of all praiseworthy diligence in accumulating material. They could have borne with the German, but an American? In face of an American, every Englishman becomes patriotic. I have seen amusing illustrations of this fact in the United States. Moreover, it must be remembered that McLennan was, so to say, the official founder and leader of the English prehistoric school. It was almost a requirement of good prehistoric manners to refer in terms of highest admiration to his artificial construction of history leading from infanticide through polyandry and abduction to maternal law. The least doubt in the strictly independent existence of exogamous and endogamous tribes was considered a frivolous sacrilege. According to this view, Morgan, in reducing all these sacred dogmas to thin air, committed an act of wanton destruction. And worse still, his mere manner of reducing them sufficed to show their instability, so that the admirers of McLennan, who hitherto had been stumbling about helplessly between exogamy and endogamy, were almost forced to slap their foreheads and exclaim: "How silly of us, not to have found that out long ago!" Just as if Morgan had not committed crimes enough against the official archaeologists to justify them in discarding all fair methods and assuming an attitude of cool neglect, he persisted in filling their cup to overflowing. Not only does he criticise civilization, the society of production for profit, the fundamental form of human society, in a manner savoring of Fourier, but he also speaks of a future reorganization of society in language that Karl Marx might have used. Consequently, he receives his just deserts, when McLennan indignantly charges him with a profound antipathy against historical methods, and when Professor Giraud-Teulon of Geneva endorses the same view in 1884. For was not the same Professor Giraud-Teulon still wandering about aimlessly in the maze of McLennan's exogamy in 1874 (Origines de la famille)? And was it not Morgan who finally had to set him free? It is not necessary to dwell in this preface on the other forms of progress which primeval history owes to Morgan. Reference to them will be found in the course of my work. During the fourteen years that have elapsed since the publication of his main work, the material contributing to the history of primeval society has been considerably enriched. Anthropologists, travelers and professional historians were joined by comparative jurists who added new matter and opened up new points of view. Here and there, some special hypothesis of Morgan has been shaken or even become obsolete. But in no instance has the new material led to a weakening of his leading propositions. The order he established in primeval history still holds good in its main outlines to this day. We may even say that this order receives recognition in the exact degree, in which the authorship of this great progress is concealed. London, June 16th, 1891. FREDERICK ENGELS. FOOTNOTES: [1] Ancient Society or Researches in the Lines of Human Progress from Savagery, through Barbarism, to Civilization. By Lewis H. Morgan. Henry Holt & Co. 1877. The book, printed in America, was singularly difficult to obtain in London. The author died a few years ago. [2] McLennan, Studies in Ancient History, 1886. Primitive Marriage, p. 124. [3] Latham, Descriptive Ethnology, 1859. [4] McLennan, Studies In Ancient History, 1886. Primitive Marriage, p. 140. [5] Ibidem, p. 146. THE ORIGIN OF THE FAMILY CHAPTER I. PREHISTORIC STAGES. Morgan was the first to make an attempt at introducing a logical order into the history of primeval society. Until considerably more material is obtained, no further changes will be necessary and his arrangement will surely remain in force. Of the three main epochs--savagery, barbarism and civilization--naturally only the first two and the transition to the third required his attention. He subdivided each of these into a lower, middle and higher stage, according to the progress in the production of the means of sustenance. His reason for doing so is that the degree of human supremacy over nature is conditioned on the ability to produce the necessities of life. For of all living beings, man alone has acquired an almost unlimited control over food production. All great epochs of human progress, according to Morgan, coincide more or less directly with times of greater abundance in the means that sustain life. The evolution of the family proceeds in the same measure without, however, offering equally convenient marks for sub-division. I. SAVAGERY. 1. Lower Stage. Infancy of the human race. Human beings still dwelt in their original habitation, in tropical or subtropical forests. They lived at least part of the time in trees, for only in this way they could escape the attacks of large beasts of prey and survive. Fruit, nuts, and roots served as food. The formation of articulated speech is the principal result of this period. Not a single one of all the nations that have become known in historic times dates back to this primeval stage. Although the latter may extend over thousands of years, we have no means of proving its existence by direct evidence. But once the descent of man from the Animal Kingdom is acknowledged, the acceptance of this stage of transition becomes inevitable. 2. Middle Stage: Commencing with the utilization of fish (including crabs, mollusks and other aquatic animals) and the use of fire. Both these things belong together, because fish becomes thoroughly palatable by the help of fire only. With this new kind of food, human beings became completely independent of climate and locality. Following the course of rivers and coastlines, they could spread over the greater part of the earth even in the savage state. The so-called palaeolithic implements of the early stone age, made of rough, unsharpened stones, belong almost entirely to this period. Their wide distribution over all the continents testifies to the extent of these wanderings. The unceasing bent for discovery, together with the possession of fire gained by friction, created new products in the lately occupied regions. Such were farinaceous roots and tubers, baked in hot ashes or in baking pits (ground ovens). When the first weapons, club and spear, were invented, venison was occasionally added to the bill of fare. Nations subsisting exclusively by hunting, such as we sometimes find mentioned in books, have never existed; for the proceeds of hunting are too uncertain. In consequence of continued precariousness of the sources of sustenance, cannibalism seems to arise at this stage. It continues in force for a long while. Even in our day, Australians and Polynesians still remain in this middle stage of savagery. 3. Higher Stage: Coming with the invention of bow and arrow, this stage makes venison a regular part of daily fare and hunting a normal occupation. Bow, arrow and cord represent a rather complicated instrument, the invention of which presupposes a long and accumulated experience and increased mental ability; incidentally they are conditioned on the acquaintance with a number of other inventions. In comparing the nations that are familiar with the use of bow and arrow, but not yet with the art of pottery (from which Morgan dates the transition to barbarism), we find among them the beginnings of village settlements, a control of food production, wooden vessels and utensils, weaving of bast fibre by hand (without a loom), baskets made of bast or reeds, and sharpened (neolithic) stone implements. Generally fire and the stone ax have also furnished the dugout and, here and there, timbers and boards for house-building. All these improvements are found, e. g., among the American Indians of the Northwest, who use bow and arrows, but know nothing as yet about pottery. Bow and arrows were for the stage of savagery what the iron sword was for barbarism and the fire-arm for civilization; the weapon of supremacy. II. BARBARISM. 1. Lower Stage. Dates from the introduction of the art of pottery. The latter is traceable in many cases, and probably attributable in all cases, to the custom of covering wooden or plaited vessels with clay in order to render them fire-proof. It did not take long to find out that moulded clay served the same purpose without a lining of other material. Hitherto we could consider the course of evolution as being equally characteristic, in a general way, for all the nations of a certain period, without reference to locality. But with the beginning of barbarism, we reach a stage where the difference in the natural resources of the two great bodies of land makes itself felt. The salient features of this stage of barbarism is the taming and raising of animals and the cultivation of plants. Now the eastern body of land, the so-called old world, contained nearly all the tamable animals and all the cultivable species of grain but one; while the western continent, America, possessed only one tamable mammal, the llama (even this only in a certain part of the South), and only one, although the best, species of grain: the corn. From now on, these different conditions of nature lead the population of each hemisphere along divergent roads, and the landmarks on the boundaries of the various stages differ in both cases. 2. Middle Stage. Commencing in the East with the domestication of animals, in the West with the cultivation and irrigation of foodplants; also with the use of adobes (bricks baked in the sun) and stones for buildings. We begin in the West, because there this stage was never outgrown up to the time of the conquest by Europeans. At the time of their discovery, the Indians in the lower stage of barbarism (all those living east of the Mississippi) carried on cultivation on a small scale in gardens. Corn, and perhaps also pumpkins, melons and other garden truck were raised. A very essential part of their sustenance was produced in this manner. They lived in wooden houses, in fortified villages. The tribes of the Northwest, especially those of the region along the Columbia river, were still in the higher stage of savagery, ignorant of pottery and of any cultivation of plants whatever. But the so-called Pueblo Indians in New Mexico, the Mexicans, Central-Americans and Peruvians, were in the middle-stage of barbarism. They lived in fortlike houses of adobe or stone, cultivated corn and other plants suitable to various conditions of localities and climate in artificially irrigated gardens that represented the main source of nourishment, and even kept a few tamed animals--the Mexicans the turkey and other birds, the Peruvians the llama. Furthermore they were familiar with the use of metals--iron excepted, and for this reason they could not get along yet without stone weapons and stone implements. The conquest by the Spaniards cut short all further independent development. In the East, the middle stage of barbarism began with the taming of milk and meat producing animals, while the cultivation of plants seems to have remained unknown far into this period. It appears that the taming and raising of animals and the formation of large herds gave rise to the separation of Aryans and Semites from the rest of the barbarians. Names of animals are still common to the languages of European and Asian Aryans, while this is almost never the case with the names of cultivated plants. In suitable localities, the formation of herds led to a nomadic life, as with the Semites in the grassy plains of the Euphrates and Tigris, the Aryans in the plains of India, of the Oxus, Jaxartes, Don and Dnieper. Along the borders of such pasture lands, the taming of animals must have been accomplished first. But later generations conceived the mistaken idea that the nomadic tribes had their origin in regions supposed to be the cradle of humanity, while in reality their savage ancestors and even people in the lower stage of barbarism would have found these regions almost unfit for habitation. On the other hand, once these barbarians of the middle stage were accustomed to nomadic life, nothing could have induced them to return voluntarily from the grassy river plains to the forests that had been the home of their ancestors. Even when Semites and Aryans were forced further to the North and West, it was impossible for them to occupy the forest regions of Western Asia and Europe, until they were enabled by agriculture to feed their animals on this less favorable soil and especially to maintain them during the winter. It is more than probable that the cultivation of grain was due primarily to the demand for stock feed, and became an important factor of human sustenance at a later period. The superior development of Aryans and Semites is, perhaps, attributable to the copious meat and milk diet of both races, more especially to the favorable influence of such food on the growth of children. As a matter of fact, the Pueblo Indians of New Mexico who live on an almost purely vegetarian diet, have a smaller brain than the Indians in the lower stage of barbarism who eat more meat and fish. At any rate, cannibalism gradually disappears at this stage and is maintained only as a religious observance or, what is here nearly identical, as a magic remedy.[6] 3. Higher Stage. Beginning with the melting of iron ore and merging into civilization by the invention of letter script and its utilization for writing records. This stage which is passed independently only on the Eastern Hemisphere, is richer in improvements of production than all preceding stages together. It is the stage of the Greek heroes, the Italian tribes shortly before the foundation of Rome, the Germans of Tacitus, the Norsemen of the Viking age. We are here confronted for the first time with the iron ploughshare drawn by animals, rendering possible agriculture on a large scale, in fields, and hence a practically unlimited increase in the production of food for the time being. The next consequence is the clearing of forests and their transformation into arable land and meadows--which process, however, could not be continued on a larger scale without the help of the iron ax and the iron spade. Naturally, these improvements brought a more rapid increase of population and a concentration of numbers into a small area. Before the time of field cultivation a combination of half a million of people under one central management could have been possible only under exceptionally favorable conditions; most likely this was never the case. The greatest attainments of the higher stage of barbarism are presented in Homer's poems, especially in the Iliad. Improved iron tools; the bellows; the hand-mill; the potter's wheel; the preparation of oil and wine; a well developed fashioning of metals verging on artisanship; the wagon and chariot; ship-building with beams and boards; the beginning of artistic architecture; towns surrounded by walls with turrets and battlements; the Homeric epos and the entire mythology--these are the principal bequests transmitted by the Greeks from barbarism to civilization. In comparing these attainments with the description given by Cesar or even Tacitus of Germans, who were in the beginning of the same stage of evolution which the Greeks were preparing to leave for a higher one, we perceive the wealth of productive development comprised in the higher stage of barbarism. The sketch which I have here produced after Morgan of the evolution of the human race through savagery and barbarism to the beginning of civilization is even now rich in new outlines. More still, these outlines are incontrovertible, because traced directly from production. Nevertheless, this sketch will appear faint and meagre in comparison to the panorama unrolled to our view at the end of our pilgrimage. Not until then will it be possible to show in their true light both the transition from barbarianism to civilization and the striking contrast between them. For the present we can summarize Morgan's arrangement in the following manner: Savagery--time of predominating appropriation of finished natural products; human ingenuity invents mainly tools useful in assisting this appropriation. Barbarism--time of acquiring the knowledge of cattle raising, of agriculture and of new methods for increasing the productivity of nature by human agency. Civilization: time of learning a wider utilization, of natural products, of manufacturing and of art. FOOTNOTE: [6] Translator's note. Advocates of vegetarianism may, of course, challenge this statement and show that all the testimony of anthropology is not in favor of the meat-eaters. It must also be admitted that diet is not the only essential factor in environment which influences the development of races. And there is no conclusive evidence to prove the absolute superiority of one diet over another. Neither have we any proofs that cannibalism ever was in general practice. It rather seems to have been confined to limited groups of people in especially ill-favored localities or to times of great scarcity of food. Hence we can neither refer to cannibalism as a typical stage in human history, nor are we obliged to accept the vegetarian hypothesis of a transition from a meat diet to a plant diet as a condition sine qua non of higher human development. CHAPTER II. THE FAMILY. Morgan, who spent the greater part of his life among the Iroquois in the State of New York and who had been adopted into one of their tribes, the Senecas, found among them a system of relationship that was in contradiction with their actual family relations. Among them existed what Morgan terms the syndyasmian or pairing family, a monogamous state easily dissolved by either side. The offspring of such a couple was identified and acknowledged by all the world. There could be no doubt to whom to apply the terms father, mother, son, daughter, brother, sister. But the actual use of these words was not in keeping with their fundamental meaning. For the Iroquois addresses as sons and daughters not only his own children, but also those of his brothers; and he is called father by all of them. But the children of his sisters he calls nephews and nieces, and they call him uncle. Vice versa, an Iroquois woman calls her own children as well as those of her sisters sons and daughters and is addressed as mother by them. But the children of her brothers are called nephews and nieces, and they call her aunt. In the same way, the children of brothers call one another brothers and sisters, and so do the children of sisters. But the children of a sister call those of her brother cousins, and vice versa. And these are not simply meaningless terms, but expressions of actually existing conceptions of proximity and remoteness, equality or inequality of consanguinity. These conceptions serve as the fundament of a perfectly elaborated system of relationship, capable of expressing several hundred different relations of a single individual. More still, this system is not only fully accepted by all American Indians--no exception has been found so far--but it is also in use with hardly any modifications among the original inhabitants of India, among the Dravidian tribes of the Dekan and the Gaura tribes of Hindostan. The terms of relationship used by the Tamils of Southern India and by the Seneca-Iroquois of New York State are to this day identical for more than two hundred different family relations. And among these East Indian tribes also, as among all American Indians, the relations arising out of the prevailing form of the family are not in keeping with the system of kinship. How can this be explained? In view of the important role played by kinship in the social order of all the savage and barbarian races, the significance of such a widespread system cannot be obliterated by phrases. A system that is generally accepted in America, that also exists in Asia among people of entirely different races, that is frequently found in a more or less modified form all over Africa and Australia, such a system requires a historical explanation and cannot be talked down, as was attempted, e. g., by McLennan. The terms father, child, brother, sister are more than mere honorary titles; they carry in their wake certain well-defined and very serious obligations, the aggregate of which comprises a very essential part of the social constitution of those nations. And the explanation was found. In the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii) there existed up to the first half of the nineteenth century a family form producing just such fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts, nephews and nieces, as the old Indo-American system of kinship. But how remarkable! The Hawaiian system of kinship again did not agree with the family form actually prevailing there. For there all the children of brothers and sisters, without any exception, are considered brothers and sisters, and regarded as the common children not only of their mother or her sisters, or their father and his brothers, but of all the brothers and sisters of their parents without distinction. While thus the American system of kinship presupposes an obsolete primitive form of the family, which is still actually existing in Hawaii, the Hawaiian system on the other hand points to a still more primitive form of the family, the actual existence of which cannot be proved any more, but which must have existed, because otherwise such a system of kinship could not have arisen. According to Morgan, the family is the active element; it is never stationary, but in progression from a lower to a higher form in the same measure in which society develops from a lower to a higher stage. But the systems of kinship are passive. Only in long intervals they register the progress made by the family in course of time, and only then are they radically changed, when the family has done so. "And," adds Marx, "it is the same with political, juridical, religious and philosophical systems in general." While the family keeps on growing, the system of kinship becomes ossified. The latter continues in this state and the family grows beyond it. With the same certainty which enabled Cuvier to conclude from some bones of Marsupialia found near Paris that extinct marsupialia had lived there, with this same certainty may we conclude from a system of kinship transmitted by history that the extinct form of the family corresponding to this system was once in existence. The systems of kinship and forms of the family just mentioned differ from the present systems in that every child has several fathers and mothers. Under the American system to which the Hawaiian system corresponds, brother and sister cannot be father and mother of the same child; but the Hawaiian system presupposes a family, in which, on the contrary, this was the rule. We are here confronted by a series of family forms that are in direct contradiction with those that were currently regarded as alone prevailing. The conventional conception knows only monogamy, furthermore polygamy of one man, eventually also polyandry of one woman. But it passes in silence, as is meet for a moralizing philistine, that the practice silently but without compunction supersedes these barriers sanctioned officially by society. The study of primeval history, however, shows us conditions, where men practiced polygamy and women at the same time polyandry, so that their children were considered common to all; conditions that up to their final transition into monogamy underwent a whole series of modifications. These modifications slowly and gradually contract the circle comprised by the common tie of marriage until only the single couple remains which prevails to-day. In thus constructing backward the history of the family, Morgan, in harmony with the majority of his colleagues, arrives at a primeval condition, where unrestricted sexual intercourse existed within a tribe, so that every woman belonged to every man, and vice versa. Much has been said about this primeval state of affairs since the eighteenth century, but only in general commonplaces. It is one of Bachofen's great merits to have taken the subject seriously and to have searched for traces of this state in historical and religious traditions. To-day we know that these traces, found by him, do not lead back to a stage of unlimited sexual intercourse, but to a much later form, the group marriage. The primeval stage, if it really ever existed, belongs to so remote a period, that we can hardly expect to find direct proofs of its former existence among these social fossils, backward savages. Bachofen's merit consists in having brought this question to the fore.[7] It has lately become a fashion to deny the existence of this early stage of human sex life, in order to spare us this "shame." Apart from the absence of all direct proof, the example of the rest of animal life is invoked. From the latter, Letourneau (Evolution du mariage et de la famille, 1888) quoted numerous facts, alleged to prove that among animals also an absolutely unlimited sexual intercourse belongs to a lower stage. But I can only conclude from all these facts that they prove absolutely nothing for man and the primeval conditions of his life. The mating of vertebrates for a lengthy term is sufficiently explained by physiological causes, e. g., among birds by the helplessness of the female during brooding time. Examples of faithful monogamy among birds do not furnish any proofs for men, for we are not descended from birds. And if strict monogamy is the height of virtue, then the palm belongs to the tapeworm that carries a complete male and female sexual apparatus in each of its 50 to 200 sections and passes its whole lifetime in fertilizing itself in every one of its sections. But if we confine ourselves to mammals, we find all forms of sexual intercourse, license, suggestions of group marriage, polygamy and monogamy. Only polyandry is missing;[8] that could be accomplished by men only. Even our next relations, the quadrumana, exhibit all possible differences in the grouping of males and females. And if we draw the line still closer and consider only the four anthropoid apes, Letourneau can only tell us, that they are now monogamous, now polygamous; while Saussure contends according to Giraud-Teulon that they are monogamous. The recent contentions of Westermarck[9] in regard to monogamy among anthropoid apes are far from proving anything. In short, the information is such that honest Letourneau admits: "There exists no strict relation at all between the degree of intellectual development and the form of sexual intercourse among mammals." And Espinas says frankly:[10] "The herd is the highest social group found among animals. It seems to be composed of families, but from the outset the family and the herd are antagonistic; they develop in directly opposite ratio." It is evident from the above that we know next to nothing of the family and other social groups of anthropoid apes; the reports are directly contradictory. How full of contradiction, how much in need of critical scrutiny and research are the reports even on savage human tribes! But monkey tribes are far more difficult to observe than human tribes. For the present, therefore, we must decline all final conclusions from such absolutely unreliable reports. The quotation from Espinas, however, offers a better clue. Among higher animals, the herd and family are not supplements of one another, but antitheses. Espinas demonstrates very nicely, how the jealousy of the males loosens or temporarily dissolves every herd during mating time. "Where the family is closely organized, herds are formed only in exceptional cases. But wherever free sexual intercourse or polygamy are existing, the herd appears almost spontaneously.... In order that a herd may form, family ties must be loosened and the individual be free. For this reason we so rarely find organized herds among birds.... Among mammals, however, we find groups organized after a fashion, just because here the individual is not merged in the family.... The rising sense of cohesion in a herd cannot, therefore, have a greater enemy than the consciousness of family ties. Let us not shrink from pronouncing it: the development of a higher form of society than the family can be due only to the fact that it admitted families which had undergone a thorough change. This does not exclude the possibility that these same families were thus enabled to reorganize later on under infinitely more favorable circumstances."[11] It becomes apparent from this, that animal societies may indeed have a certain value in drawing conclusions in regard to human life--but only negatively. The higher vertebrate knows, so far as we may ascertain, only two forms of the family: polygamy or pairs. In both of them there is only one grown male, only one husband. The jealousy of the male, at the same time tie and limit of the family, creates an opposition between the animal family and the herd. The latter, a higher social form, is here rendered impossible, there loosened or dissolved during mating time, and at best hindered in its development by the jealousy of the male. This in itself is sufficient proof that the animal family and primeval human society are irreconcilable; that ancient man, struggling upward from the animal stage, either had no family at all or at the most one that does not exist among animals. A being so defenceless as evolving man might well survive in small numbers though living in an isolated state, the highest social form of which is that of pairs such as Westermarck, relying on hunter's reports, attributes to the gorilla and the chimpanzee. Another element is necessary for the elevation out of the animal stage, for the realization of the highest progress found in nature: the replacing of the defencelessness of the single individual by the united strength and co-operation of the whole herd. The transition from beast to man out of conditions of the sort under which the anthropoid apes are living to-day would be absolutely unexplainable. These apes rather give the impression of stray sidelines gradually approaching extinction, and at all events in process of decline. This alone is sufficient to reject all parallels between their family forms and those of primeval man. But mutual tolerance of the grown males, freedom from jealousy, was the first condition for the formation of such large and permanent groups, within which alone the transformation from beast to man could be accomplished. And indeed, what do we find to be the most ancient and original form of the family, undeniably traceable by history and even found to-day here and there? The group marriage, that form in which whole groups of men and whole groups of women mutually belong to one another, leaving only small scope for jealousy. And furthermore we find at a later stage the exceptional form of polyandry which still more supersedes all sentiments of jealousy and hence is unknown to animals. But all the forms of the group marriage known to us are accompanied by such peculiarly complicated circumstances that they of necessity point to a preceding simpler form of sexual intercourse and, hence, in the last instance to a period of unrestricted sexual intercourse corresponding to a transition from the animal to man. Therefore the references to animal marriages lead us back to precisely that point, from which they were intended to remove us forever. What does the term "unrestricted sexual intercourse" mean? Simply, that the restrictions in force now were not observed formerly. We have already seen the barrier of jealousy falling. If anything is certain, it is that jealousy is developed at a comparatively late stage. The same is true of incest. Not only brother and sister were originally man and wife, but also the sexual intercourse between parents and children is permitted to this day among many nations. Bancroft testifies to the truth of this among the Kaviats of the Behring Strait, the Kadiaks of Alaska, the Tinnehs in the interior of British North America; Letourneau compiled reports of the same fact in regard to the Chippeway Indians, the Coocoos in Chile, the Caribeans, the Carens in Indo-China, not to mention the tales of ancient Greeks and Romans about the Parthians, Persians, Scythians, Huns and so forth. Before incest was invented (and it is an invention, a really valuable one indeed), sexual intercourse between parents and children could not be any more repulsive than between other persons belonging to different generations, which takes place even in our day among the most narrow-minded nations without causing any horror. Even old "maids" of more than sixty years sometimes, if they are rich enough, marry young men of about thirty. Eliminating from the primeval forms of the family known to us those conceptions of incest--conceptions totally different from ours and often enough in direct contradiction with them--we arrive at a form of sexual intercourse that can only be designated as unrestricted. Unrestricted in the sense that the barriers drawn later on by custom did not yet exist. This in no way necessarily implies for practical purposes an injudicious pell-mell intercourse. The separate existence of pairs for a limited time is not out of the question, and even comprises the majority of cases in the group marriage of our days. And if the latest repudiator of such a primeval state, Westermarck, designates as marriage every case, where both sexes remain mated until the birth of the offspring, then this is equivalent to saying that this kind of marriage may well exist during a stage of unrestricted intercourse without contradicting license, i. e., absence of barriers drawn by custom for sexual intercourse. Westermarck bases himself on the opinion that "license includes the suppression of individual affections" so that "prostitution is its most genuine form." To me it rather seems that any understanding of primeval conditions is impossible as long as we look at them through brothel spectacles. We shall return to this point in the group marriage. According to Morgan, the following forms developed from this primeval state at an apparently early stage: 1. THE CONSANGUINE FAMILY. The Consanguine Family is the first step toward the family. Here the marriage groups are arranged by generations: all the grand-fathers and grand-mothers within a certain family are mutually husbands and wives; and equally their children, the fathers and mothers, whose children form a third cycle of mutual mates. The children of these again, the great-grandchildren of the first cycle, will form a fourth. In this form of the family, then, only ancestors and descendants are excluded from what we would call the rights and duties of marriage. Brothers and sisters, male and female cousins of the first, second and more remote grades, are all mutually brothers and sisters and for this reason mutual husbands and wives. The relation of brother and sister quite naturally includes at this stage the practice of sexual intercourse.[12] The typical form of such a family would consist of the offspring of one pair, representing again the descendants of each grade as mutual brothers and sisters and, therefore, mutual husbands and wives. The consanguine family is extinct. Even the crudest nations of history do not furnish any proofs of it. But the Hawaiian system of kinship, in force to this day in all Polynesia, compels us to acknowledge its former existence, for it exhibits grades of kinship that could only originate in this form of the family. And the whole subsequent development of the family compels us to admit this form as a necessary step. 2. THE PUNALUAN FAMILY. While the first step of organization consisted in excluding parents and children from mutual sexual intercourse, the second was the erection of a barrier between brother and sister. This progress was much more important on account of the greater equality in the ages of the parties concerned, but also far more difficult. It was accomplished gradually, probably beginning with the exclusion of the natural sister (i. e., on the mother's side) from sexual intercourse, first in single cases, then becoming more and more the rule (in Hawaii exceptions were still noted during the nineteenth century), and finally ending with the prohibition of marriage even among collateral brothers and sisters, i. e., what we now term brother's and sister's children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. This progress offers, according to Morgan, an excellent illustration how the principle of natural selection works. Without question, the tribes limiting inbreeding by this progress developed faster and more completely than those retaining the marriage between brothers and sisters as a rule and law. And how powerfully the influence of this progress was felt, is shown by the institution of the gens, directly attributable to it and passing far beyond the goal. The gens is the foundation of the social order of most, if not all, barbarian nations, and in Greece and Rome we step immediately from it to civilization. Every primeval family necessarily had to divide after a few generations. The originally communistic and collective household existing far into the middle stage of barbarism, involved a certain maximum size of the family, variable according to conditions, but still limited in a degree. As soon as the conception of the impropriety of sexual intercourse between children of the same mother arose, it naturally became effective on such occasions as the division of old and the foundation of new household communities (which, however, did not necessarily coincide with the family group). One or more series of sisters became the center of one group, their natural brothers that of another. In this or a similar manner that form which Morgan styles the Punaluan family developed from the consanguine family. According to Hawaiian custom, a number of sisters, natural or more remote (i. e., cousins of the first, second and more remote degrees) were the mutual wives of their mutual husbands, their natural brothers excepted. These men now no longer addressed one another as "brother"--which they no longer had to be--but as "Punalua," i. e., intimate companion, associate as it were. Likewise a series of natural or more remote brothers lived in mutual marriage with a number of women, not their natural sisters, and these women referred to each other as "Punalua." This is the classical form of a family, which later admitted of certain variations. Its fundamental characteristic was mutual community of husbands and wives within a given family with the exclusion of the natural brothers (or sisters) first, and of the more remote grades later. This form of the family, now, furnishes with complete accuracy the degrees of kinship expressed by the American system. The children of the sisters of my mother still are her children; likewise the children of the brothers of my father still his children; and all of them are my brothers and sisters. But the children of the brothers of my mother are now her nephews and nieces, the children of the sisters of my father his nephew and nieces, and they are all my cousins. For while the husbands of the sisters of my mother are still her husbands, and likewise the wives of the brothers of my father still his wives--legally, if not always in fact--the social proscription of sexual intercourse between brothers and sisters has now divided those relatives who were formerly regarded without distinction as brothers and sisters, into two classes. In one category are those who remain (more remote) brothers and sisters as before; in the other the children of the brother on one hand or the sister on the opposite, who can be brothers and sisters no longer. The latter have mutual parents no more, neither father nor mother nor both together. And for this reason the class of nephews and nieces, male and female cousins, here becomes necessary for the first time. Under the former family order this would have been absurd. The American system of kinship, which appears absolutely paradoxical in any family form founded on monogamy, is rationally explained and naturally confirmed in its most minute details by the Punaluan family. Wherever this system of kinship was in force, there the Punaluan family or at least a form akin to it must also have existed. This family form, the existence of which in Hawaii was actually demonstrated, would have been transmitted probably by all Polynesia, if the pious missionaries, similar to the Spanish monks in America, could have looked upon such anti-Christian relations as being something more than simply a "horror."[13] Cesar's report to the effect that the Britons, who then were in the middle stage of barbarism, "have ten or twelve women in common, mostly brothers with brothers and parents with children," is best explained by group marriage. Barbarian mothers have not ten or twelve sons old enough to keep women in common, but the American system of kinship corresponding to the Punaluan family furnishes many brothers, because all near and remote cousins of a certain man are his brothers. The term "parents with children" may arise from a wrong conception of Cesar, but this system does not absolutely exclude the existence of father and son, mother or daughter in the same group. It does exclude, however, father and daughter or mother and son. This or a similar form of group marriage also furnishes the easiest explanation of the reports of Herodotus and other ancient writers concerning community of women among savage and barbarian nations. This is true, furthermore, of Watson's and Kaye's[14] tale about the Tikurs of Audh (north of the Ganges): "They live together (i. e., sexually) almost indiscriminately in large communities, and though two persons may be considered as being married, still the tie is only nominal." The institution of the gens seems to have its origin in the majority of cases in the Punaluan family. True, the Australian class system also offers a starting point for it; the Australians have gentes, but not yet a Punaluan family, only a cruder form of group marriage.[15] In all forms of the group family it is uncertain who is the father of a child, but certain, who is its mother. Although she calls all the children of the aggregate family her children and has the duties of a mother toward them, still she knows her natural children from others. It is also obvious that, as far as group marriage exists, descent can only be traced on the mother's side and, hence, only female lineage be acknowledged. This is actually the case among all savage tribes and those in the lower stage of barbarism. To have discovered this first is the second great merit of Bachofen. He designates this exclusive recognition of descent from the female line and the hereditary relations resulting therefrom in course of time as "maternal law." I retain this term for the sake of brevity, although it is distorted; for at this social stage there is no sign yet of any law in the juridic sense. If we now take one of the two standard groups of a Punaluan family, namely that of a series of natural and remote sisters (i. e., first, second and more remote descendants of natural sisters), their children and their natural or remote brothers on the mother's side (who according to our supposition are not their husbands), we have exactly that circle of persons who later appear as members of a gens, in the original form of this institution. They all have a common ancestress, by virtue of the descent that makes the different female generations sisters. But the husbands of these sisters cannot be chosen among their brothers any more, can no longer come from the same ancestress, and do not, therefore, belong to the consanguineous group of relatives, the gens of a later time. The children of these same sisters, however, do belong to this group, because descent from the female line alone is conclusive, alone is positive. As soon as the proscription of sexual intercourse between all relatives on the mother's side, even the most remote of them, is an accomplished fact, the above named group has become a gens, i. e., constitutes a definite circle of consanguineous relatives of female lineage who are not permitted to marry one another. Henceforth this circle is more and more fortified by other mutual institutions of a social or religious character and thus distinguished from other gentes of the same tribe. Of this more anon. Finding, as we do, that the gens not only necessarily, but also as a matter of course, develops from the Punaluan family, it becomes obvious to us to assume as almost practically demonstrated the prior existence of this family form among all those nations where such gentes are traceable, i. e., nearly all barbarian and civilized nations. When Morgan wrote his book, our knowledge of group marriage was very limited. We knew very little about the group marriages of the Australians organized in classes, and furthermore Morgan had published as early as 1871 the information he had received about the Punaluan family of Hawaii. This family on one hand furnished a complete explanation of the system of kinship in force among the American Indians, which had been the point of departure for all the studies of Morgan. On the other hand it formed a ready means for the deduction of the maternal law gens. And finally it represented a far higher stage of development than the Australian classes. It is, therefore, easy to understand how Morgan could regard this form as the stage necessarily preceding the pairing family and attribute general extension in former times to it. Since then we have learned of several other forms of the group marriage, and we know that Morgan went too far in this respect. But it was nevertheless his good fortune to encounter in his Punaluan family the highest, the classical, form of group marriage, that form which gave the simplest clue for the transition to a higher stage. The most essential contribution to our knowledge of the group marriage we owe to the English missionary, Lorimer Fison, who studied this form of the family for years on its classical ground, Australia. He found the lowest stage of development among the Papuans near Mount Gambier in South Australia. Here the whole tribe is divided into two great classes, Kroki and Kumite.[16] Sexual intercourse within each of these classes is strictly prohibited. But every man of one class is by birth the husband of every woman of the other class, and vice versa. Not the individuals are married to one another, but the whole groups, class to class. And mark well, no caution is made anywhere on account of difference of age or special consanguinity, unless it is resulting from the division into two exogamous classes. A Kroki has for his wife every Kumite woman. And as his own daughter, being the daughter of a Kumite woman, is also Kumite according to maternal law, she is therefore the born wife of every Kroki, including her father. At least, the class organization, as we know it, does not exclude this possibility. Hence this organization either arose at a time when, in spite of all dim endeavor to limit inbreeding, sexual intercourse between parents and children was not yet regarded with any particular horror; in this case the class system would be directly evolved from a condition of unrestricted sexual relations. Or the intercourse between parents and children was already proscribed by custom, when the classes were formed; and in this case the present condition points back to the consanguine family and is the first step out of it. The latter case is the more probable. So far as I know, no mention is made of any sexual intercourse between parents and children in Australia. Even the later form of exogamy, the maternal law gens, as a rule silently presupposes that the prohibition of this intercourse was an accomplished fact at the time of its institution. The system of two classes is not only found near Mount Gambier in South Australia, but also farther east along Darling River, and in the northeast of Queensland. It is, consequently, widespread. It excludes only marriage between brothers and sisters, between brothers' children and between sisters' children of the mother's side, because these belong to the same class; but the children of a sister can marry those of a brother and vice versa. A further step for preventing inbreeding is found among the Kamilaroi on the Darling River in New South Wales, where the two original classes are split into four, and every one of these is married as a whole to a certain other class. The first two classes are husbands and wives by birth. According to the place of the mother in the first or second class, the children belong to the third and fourth. The children of these two classes, who are also married to one another, again belong to the first and second class. So that a certain generation belongs to the first and second class, the next to the third and fourth and the following again to the first and second. Hence the children of natural brothers and sisters (on the mother's side) cannot marry one another, but their grandchildren can do so. This peculiarly complicated order of things is still more entangled by the inoculation--evidently at a later stage--with maternal law gentes. But we cannot discuss this further. Enough, the desire to prevent inbreeding again and again demands recognition, but feeling its way quite spontaneously, without a clear conception of the goal. The group marriage is represented in Australia by class marriage, i. e., mass marriage of a whole class of men frequently scattered over the whole breadth of the continent to an equally widespread class of women. A close view of this group marriage does not offer quite such a horrible spectacle as the philistine imagination accustomed to brothel conditions generally pictures to itself. On the contrary, long years passed, before its existence was even suspected, and quite recently it is once more denied. To the casual observer it makes the impression of a loose monogamy and in certain places of polygamy, with occasional breach of faith. Years are required before one can discover, like Fison and Howitt, the law regulating these marital conditions that rather appeal in their practicability to the average European; the law enabling the strange Papuan, thousands of miles from his home and among people whose language he does not understand, to find frequently, from camp to camp and from tribe to tribe, women who will without resistance and guilelessly surrender to him; the law according to which a man with several women offers one to his guest for the night. Where the European sees immorality and lawlessness, there in reality a strict law is observed. The women belong to the marriage class of the stranger and, therefore, they are his wives by birth. The same moral law assigning both to one another forbids under penalty of proscription all sexual intercourse outside of the two marriage classes. Even when women are abducted, as is frequently the case in certain regions, the class law is carefully respected. In the abduction of women, by the way, a trace of transition to monogamy is found even here, at least in the form of the pairing family. If a young man has abducted a girl with the help of his friends, they hold sexual intercourse with her one after another. But after that the girl is regarded as the wife of the young man who planned the abduction. And again, if an abducted woman deserts her husband and is caught by another man, she becomes the wife of the latter and the first has lost his privilege. Alongside of and within the generally existing group marriage such exclusive relations are formed, pairing for a shorter or longer term by the side of polygamy, so that here also group marriage is declining. The question is only which will first disappear under the pressure of European influence: group marriage or the Papuans addicted to it. The marriage in whole classes, such as is in force in Australia, is no doubt a very low and primitive form of group marriage, while the Punaluan family, so far as we know, is its highest stage of development. The former seems to be corresponding to the social stage of roving savages, the latter requires relatively settled communistic bodies and leads directly to the next higher stage of development. Between these two, we shall no doubt find many an intermediate stage. Here lies a barely opened, hardly entered field of investigation.[17] 3. THE PAIRING FAMILY. A certain pairing for a longer or shorter term took place even during the group marriage or still earlier. A man had his principal wife (one can hardly call it favorite wife as yet) among many women, and he was to her the principal husband among others. This fact in no small degree contributed to the confusion among missionaries, who regarded group marriage now as a disorderly community of women, now as an arbitrary adultery. Such a habitual pairing would gain ground the more the gens developed and the more numerous the classes of "brothers" and "sisters" became who were not permitted to marry one another. The impulse to prevent marriage of consanguineous relatives started by the gens went still further. Thus we find that among the Iroquois and most of the Indians in the lower stage of barbarism marriage is prohibited between all the relatives of their system of kinship, and this comprises several hundred kinds. By this increasing complication of marriage restrictions, group marriage became more and more impossible; it was displaced by the pairing family. At this stage one man lives with one woman, but in such a manner that polygamy, and occasional adultery, remain privileges of men, although the former occurs rarely for economic reasons. Women, however, are generally expected to be strictly faithful during the time of living together, and adultery on their part is cruelly punished. But the marriage-tie may be easily broken by either party, and the children belong to the mother alone, as formerly. In this ever more extending restriction of marriage between consanguineous relations, natural selection also remains effective. As Morgan expresses it: "Marriages between gentes that were not consanguineous produced a more vigorous race, physically and mentally; two progressive tribes intermarried, and the new skulls and brains naturally expanded until they comprised the faculties of both." Thus tribes composed of gentes necessarily either gained the supremacy over the backward ones or, by their example, carried them along in their wake. The development of the family, then, is founded on the continual contraction of the circle, originally comprising the whole tribe, within which marital intercourse between both sexes was general. By the continual, exclusion, first of near, then of ever remoter relatives, including finally even those who were simply related legally, all group marriage becomes practically impossible. At last only one couple, temporarily and loosely united, remains; that molecule, the dissolution of which absolutely puts an end to marriage. Even from this we may infer how little the sexual love of the individual in the modern sense of the word had to do with the origin of monogamy. The practice of all nations of that stage still more proves this. While in the previous form of the family the men were never embarrassed for women, but rather had more than enough of them, women now became scarce and were sought after. With the pairing family, therefore, the abduction and barter of women began--widespread symptoms, and nothing but that, of a new and much more profound change. The pedantic Scot, McLennan, however, transmuted these symptoms, mere methods of obtaining women, into separate classes of the family under the head of "marriage by capture" and "marriage by barter." Moreover among American Indians and other nations in the same stage, the marriage agreement is not the business of the parties most concerned, who often are not even asked, but of their mothers. Frequently two persons entirely unknown to one another are thus engaged to be married and receive no information of the closing of the bargain, until the time for the marriage ceremony approaches. Before the wedding, the bridegroom brings gifts to the maternal relatives of the bride (not to her father or his relatives) as an equivalent for ceding the girl to him. Either of the married parties may dissolve the marriage at will. But among many tribes, as, e. g., the Iroquois, public opinion has gradually become averse to such separations. In case of domestic differences the gentile relatives of both parties endeavor to bring about a reconciliation, and not until they are unsuccessful a separation takes place. In this case the woman keeps the children, and both parties are free to marry again. The pairing family, being too weak and too unstable to make an independent household necessary or even desirable, in no way dissolves the traditional communistic way of housekeeping. But household communism implies supremacy of women in the house as surely as exclusive recognition of a natural mother and the consequent impossibility of identifying the natural father signify high esteem for women, i. e., mothers. It is one of the most absurd notions derived from eighteenth century enlightenment, that in the beginning of society woman was the slave of man. Among all savages and barbarians of the lower and middle stages, sometimes even of the higher stage, women not only have freedom, but are held in high esteem. What they were even in the pairing family, let Arthur Wright, for many years a missionary among the Seneca Iroquois, testify: "As to their families, at a time when they still lived in their old long houses (communistic households of several families) ... a certain clan (gens) always reigned, so that the women choose their husbands from other clans (gentes).... The female part generally ruled the house; the provisions were held in common; but woe to the luckless husband or lover who was too indolent or too clumsy to contribute his share to the common stock. No matter how many children or how much private property he had in the house, he was liable at any moment to receive a hint to gather up his belongings and get out. And he could not dare to venture any resistance; the house was made too hot for him and he had no other choice, but to return to his own clan (gens) or, as was mostly the case, to look for another wife in some other clan. The women were the dominating power in the clans (gentes) and everywhere else. Occasionally they did not hesitate to dethrone a chief and degrade him to a common warrior." The communistic household, in which most or all the women belong to one and the same gens, while the husbands come from different gentes, is the cause and foundation of the general and widespread supremacy of women in primeval times. The discovery of this fact is the third merit of Bachofen. By way of supplement I wish to state that the reports of travelers and missionaries concerning the overburdening of women among savages and barbarians do not in the least contradict the above statements. The division of labor between both sexes is caused by other reasons than the social condition of women. Nations, where women have to work much harder than is proper for them in our opinion, often respect women more highly than Europeans do. The lady of civilized countries, surrounded with sham homage and a stranger to all real work stands on a far lower social level than a hard-working barbarian woman, regarded as a real lady (frowa-lady-mistress) and having the character of such. Whether or not the pairing family has in our time entirely supplanted group marriage in America, can be decided only by closer investigations among those nations of northwestern and especially of southern America that are still in the higher stage of savagery. About the latter so many reports of sexual license are current that the assumption of a complete cessation of the ancient group marriage is hardly warranted. Evidently all traces of it have not yet disappeared. In at least forty North American tribes the man marrying an elder sister has the right to make all her sisters his wives as soon as they are of age, a survival of the community of men for the whole series of sisters. And Bancroft relates that the Indians of the Californian peninsula celebrate certain festivities uniting several "tribes" for the purpose of unrestricted sexual intercourse. These are evidently gentes that have preserved in these festivities a vague recollection of the time when the women of one gens had for their common husbands all the men of another gens, and vice versa. The same custom is still observed in Australia. Among certain nations it sometimes happens that the older men, the chief and sorcerer-priests, exploit the community of women for their own benefits and monopolize all the women. But in their turn they must restore the old community during certain festivities and great assemblies, permitting their wives to enjoy themselves with the young men. A whole series of examples of such periodical saturnalia restoring for a short time the ancient sexual freedom is quoted by Westermarck:[18] among the Hos, the Santals, the Punjas and Kotars in India, among some African nations, etc. Curiously enough Westermarck concludes that this is a survival, not of group marriage, the existence of which he denies, but--of a rutting season which primitive man had in common with other animals. Here we touch Bachofen's fourth great discovery: the widespread form of transition from group marriage to pairing family. What Bachofen represents as a penance for violating the old divine laws--the penalty with which a woman redeems her right to chastity, is in fact only a mystical expression for the penalty paid by a woman for becoming exempt from the ancient community of men and acquiring the right of surrendering to one man only. This penalty consists in a limited surrender: Babylonian women had to surrender once a year in the temple of Mylitta; other nations of Western Asia sent their young women for years to the temple of Anaitis, where they had to practice free love with favorites of their own choice before they were allowed to marry. Similar customs in a religious disguise are common to nearly all Asiatic nations between the Mediterranean and the Ganges. The penalty for exemption becomes gradually lighter in course of time, as Bachofen remarks: "The annually repeated surrender gives place to a single sacrifice; the hetaerism of the matrons is followed by that of the maidens, the promiscuous intercourse during marriage to that before wedding, the indiscriminate intercourse with all to that with certain individuals."[19] Among some nations the religious disguise is missing. Among others--Thracians, Celts, etc., in classic times, many primitive inhabitants of India, Malay nations, South Sea Islanders and many American Indians to this day--the girls enjoy absolute sexual freedom before marriage. This is especially true almost everywhere in South America, as everybody can confirm who penetrates a little into the interior. Agassiz, e. g., relates[20] an anecdote of a wealthy family of Indian descent. On being introduced to the daughter he asked something about her father, presuming him to be her mother's husband, who was in the war against Paraguay. But the mother replied, smiling: "Nao tem pai, he filha da fortuna"--she hasn't any father; she is the daughter of chance. "It is the way the Indian or half-breed women here always speak of their illegitimate children; and though they say it without an intonation of sadness or of blame, apparently as unconscious of any wrong or shame as if they said the father was absent or dead, it has the most melancholy significance; it seems to speak of such absolute desertion. So far is this from being an unusual case, that among the common people the opposite seems the exception. Children are frequently quite ignorant of their parentage. They know about their mother, for all the care and responsibility falls upon her, but they have no knowledge of their father; nor does it seem to occur to the woman that she or her children have any claim upon him." What seems so strange to the civilized man, is simply the rule of maternal law and group marriage. Again, among other nations the friends and relatives of the bridegroom or the wedding guests claim their traditional right to the bride, and the bridegroom comes last. This custom prevailed in ancient times on the Baleares and among the African Augilers; it is observed to this day by the Bareas in Abyssinia. In still other cases, an official person--the chief of a tribe or a gens, the cazique, shamane, priest, prince or whatever may be his title--represents the community and exercises the right of the first night. All modern romantic whitewashing notwithstanding, this jus primae noctis, is still in force among most of the natives of Alaska,[21] among the Tahus of northern Mexico[22] and some other nations. And during the whole of the middle ages it was practiced at least in originally Celtic countries, where it was directly transmitted by group marriage, e. g. in Aragonia. While in Castilia the peasant was never a serf, the most disgraceful serfdom existed in Aragonia, until abolished by the decision of Ferdinand the Catholic in 1486. In this document we read: "We decide and declare that the aforesaid 'senyors' (barons) ... shall neither sleep the first night with the wife of a peasant, nor shall they in the first night after the wedding, when the woman has gone to bed, step over said woman or bed as a sign of their authority. Neither shall the aforesaid senyors use the daughter or the son of any peasant, with or without pay, against their will." (Quoted in the Catalonian original by Sugenheim, "Serfdom," Petersburg, 1861, page 35.) Bachofen, furthermore, is perfectly right in contending that the transition from what he calls "hetaerism" or "incestuous generation" to monogamy was brought about mainly by women. The more in the course of economic development, undermining the old communism and increasing the density of population, the traditional sexual relations lost their innocent character suited to the primitive forest, the more debasing and oppressive they naturally appeared to women; and the more they consequently longed for relief by the right of chastity, of temporary or permanent marriage with one man. This progress could not be due to men for the simple reason that they never, even to this day, had the least intention of renouncing the pleasures of actual group marriage. Not until the women had accomplished the transition to the pairing family could the men introduce strict monogamy--true, only for women. The pairing family arose on the boundary line between savagery and barbarism, generally in the higher stage of savagery, here and there in the lower stage of barbarism. It is the form of the family characteristic for barbarism, as group marriage is for savagery and monogamy for civilization. In order to develop it into established monogamy, other causes than those active hitherto were required. In the pairing family the group was already reduced to its last unit, its biatomic molecule: one man and one woman. Natural selection, had accomplished its purpose by a continually increasing restriction of sexual intercourse. Nothing remained to be done in this direction. Unless new social forces became active, there was no reason why a new form of the family should develop out of the pairing family. But these forces did become active. We now leave America, the classic soil of the pairing family. No sign permits the conclusion that a higher form of the family was developed here, that any established form of monogamy ever existed anywhere in the New World before the discovery and conquest. Not so in the Old World. In the latter, the domestication of animals and the breeding of flocks had developed a hitherto unknown source of wealth and created entirely new social conditions. Up to the lower stage of barbarism, fixed wealth was almost exclusively represented by houses, clothing, rough ornaments and the tools for obtaining and preparing food: boats, weapons and household articles of the simplest kind. Nourishment had to be secured afresh day by day. But now, with their herds of horses, camels, donkeys, cattle, sheep, goats and hogs, the advancing nomadic nations--the Aryans in the Indian Punjab, in the region of the Ganges and the steppes of the Oxus and Jaxartes, then still more rich in water-veins than now; the Semites on the Euphrates and Tigris--had acquired possessions demanding only the most crude attention and care in order to propagate themselves in ever increasing numbers and yield the most abundant store of milk and meat. All former means of obtaining food were now forced to the background. Hunting, once a necessity, now became a sport. But who was the owner of this new wealth? Doubtless it was originally the gens. However, private ownership of flocks must have had an early beginning. It is difficult to say whether to the author of the so-called first book of Moses Father Abraham appeared as the owner of his flocks by virtue of his privilege as head of a communistic family or of his capacity as gentile chief by actual descent. So much is certain: we must not regard him as a proprietor in the modern sense of the word. It is furthermore certain that everywhere on the threshold of documentary history we find the flocks in the separate possession of chiefs of families, exactly like the productions of barbarian art, such as metal ware, articles of luxury and, finally, the human cattle--the slaves. For now slavery was also invented. To the barbarian of the lower stage a slave was of no use. The American Indians, therefore, treated their vanquished enemies in quite a different way from nations of a higher stage. The men were tortured or adopted as brothers into the tribe of the victors. The women were married or likewise adopted with their surviving children. The human labor power at this stage does not yet produce a considerable amount over and above its cost of subsistence. But the introduction of cattle raising, metal industry, weaving and finally agriculture wrought a change. Just as the once easily obtainable wives now had an exchange value and were bought, so labor power was now procured, especially since the flocks had definitely become private property. The family did not increase as rapidly as the cattle. More people were needed for superintending; for this purpose the captured enemy was available and, besides, he could be increased by breeding like the cattle. Such riches, once they had become the private property of certain families and augmented rapidly, gave a powerful impulse to society founded on the pairing family and the maternal gens. The pairing family had introduced a new element. By the side of the natural mother it had placed the authentic natural father who probably was better authenticated than many a "father" of our day. According to the division of labor in those times, the task of obtaining food and the tools necessary for this purpose fell to the share of the man; hence he owned the latter and kept them in case of a separation, as the women did the household goods. According to the social custom of that time, the man was also the owner of the new source of existence, the cattle, and later on of the new labor power, the slaves. But according to the same custom, his children could not inherit his property, for the following reasons: By maternal law, i. e., while descent was traced only along the female line, and by the original custom of inheriting in the gens, the gentile relatives inherited the property of their deceased gentile relative. The wealth had to remain in the gens. In view of the insignificance of the objects, the property may have gone in practice to the closest gentile relatives, i. e., the consanguine relatives on the mother's side. The children of the dead man, however, did not belong to his gens, but to that of their mother. They inherited first together with the other consanguine relatives of the mother, later on perhaps in preference to the others. But they could not inherit from their father, because they did not belong to his gens, where his property had to remain. Hence, after the death of a cattle owner, the cattle would fall to his brothers, sisters and the children of his sisters, or to the offspring of the sisters of his mother. His own children were disinherited. In the measure of the increasing wealth man's position in the family became superior to that of woman, and the desire arose to use this fortified position for the purpose of overthrowing the traditional law of inheritance in favor of his children. But this was not feasible as long as maternal law was valid. This law had to be abolished, and it was. This was by no means as difficult as it appears to us to-day. For this revolution--one of the most radical ever experienced by humanity--did not have to touch a single living member of the gens. All its members could remain what they had always been. The simple resolution was sufficient, that henceforth the offspring of the male members should belong to the gens, while the children of the female members should be excluded by transferring them to the gens of their father. This abolished the tracing of descent by female lineage and the maternal right of inheritance, and instituted descent by male lineage and the paternal right of inheritance. How and when this revolution was accomplished by the nations of the earth, we do not know. It belongs entirely to prehistoric times. That it was accomplished is proven more than satisfactorily by the copious traces of maternal law collected especially by Bachofen. How easily it is accomplished we may observe in a whole series of Indian tribes, that recently passed through or are still engaged in it, partly under the influence of increasing wealth and changed modes of living (transfer from forests to the prairie), partly through the moral pressure of civilization and missionaries. Six out of eight Missouri tribes have male descent and inheritance, while only two retain female descent and inheritance. The Shawnees, Miamis and Delawares follow the custom of placing their children into the male gens by giving them a gentile name belonging to the father's gens, so that they may be entitled to inherit. "Innate casuistry of man, to change the objects by changing their names, and to find loopholes for breaking tradition inside of tradition where a direct interest was a sufficient motive." (Marx.) This made confusion worse confounded, which could be and partially was remedied alone by paternal law. "This seems to be the most natural transition." (Marx.) As to the opinion of the comparative jurists, how this transition took place among the civilized nations of the old world--although only in hypotheses--compare M. Kovalevsky, Tableau des origines et de l'évolution de la famille et de la propriété, Stockholm, 1890. The downfall of maternal law was the historic defeat of the female sex. The men seized the reins also in the house, the women were stripped of their dignity, enslaved, tools of men's lust and mere machines for the generation of children. This degrading position of women, especially conspicuous among the Greeks of heroic and still more of classic times, was gradually glossed over and disguised or even clad in a milder form. But it is by no means obliterated. The first effect of the established supremacy of men became now visible in the reappearance of the intermediate form of the patriarchal family. Its most significant feature is not polygamy, of which more anon, but "the organization of a certain number of free and unfree persons into one family under the paternal authority of the head of the family. In the Semitic form this head of the family lives in polygamy, the unfree members have wife and children, and the purpose of the whole organization is the tending of herds in a limited territory." The essential points are the assimilation of the unfree element and the paternal authority. Hence the ideal type of this form of the family is the Roman family. The word familia did not originally signify the composite ideal of sentimentality and domestic strife in the present day philistine mind. Among the Romans it did not even apply in the beginning to the leading couple and its children, but to the slaves alone. Famulus means domestic slave, and familia is the aggregate number of slaves belonging to one man. At the time of Gajus, the familia, id est patrimonium (i. e., paternal legacy), was still bequeathed by testament. The expression was invented by the Romans in order to designate a new social organism, the head of which had a wife, children and a number of slaves under his paternal authority and according to Roman law the right of life and death over all of them. "The word is, therefore, not older than the ironclad family system of the Latin tribes, which arose after the introduction of agriculture and of lawful slavery, and after the separation of the Aryan Itali from the Greeks." Marx adds: "The modern family contains the germ not only of slavery (servitus), but also of serfdom, because it has from the start a relation to agricultural service. It comprises in miniature all those contrasts that later on develop more broadly in society and the state." Such a form of the family shows the transition from the pairing family to monogamy. In order to secure the faithfulness of the wife, and hence the reliability of paternal lineage, the women are delivered absolutely into the power of the men; in killing his wife, the husband simply exercises his right. With the patriarchal family we enter the domain of written history, a field in which comparative law can render considerable assistance. And here it has brought about considerable progress indeed. We owe to Maxim Kovalevsky (Tableau etc. de la famille et de la propriété, Stockholm, 1890, p. 60-100) the proof, that the patriarchal household community, found to this day among Serbians and Bulgarians under the names of Zádruga (friendly bond) and Bratstvo (fraternity), and in a modified form among oriental nations, formed the stage of transition between the maternal family derived from group marriage and the monogamous family of the modern world. This seems at least established for the historic nations of the old world, for Aryans and Semites. The Zádruga of southern Slavonia offers the best still existing illustration of such a family communism. It comprises several generations of the father's descendants, together with their wives, all living together on the same farm, tilling their fields in common, living and clothing themselves from the same stock, and possessing collectively the surplus of their earnings. The community is managed by the master of the house (domácin), who acts as its representative, may sell inferior objects, has charge of the treasury and is responsible for it as well as for a proper business administration. He is chosen by vote and is not necessarily the oldest man. The women and their work are directed by the mistress of the house (domácica), who is generally the wife of the domácin. She also has an important, and often final, voice in choosing a husband for the girls. But the highest authority is vested in the family council, the assembly of all grown companions, male and female. The domácin is responsible to this council. It takes all important resolutions, sits in judgment on the members of the household, decides the question of important purchases and sales, especially of land, etc. It is only about ten years since the existence of such family communism in the Russia of to-day was proven. At present it is generally acknowledged to be rooted in popular Russian custom quite as much as the obscina or village community. It is found in the oldest Russian code, the Pravda of Jaroslav, under the same name (vervj) as in the Dalmatian code, and may also be traced in Polish and Czech historical records. Likewise among Germans, the economic unit according to Heussler (Institutions of German law) is not originally the single family, but the "collective household," comprising several generations or single families and, besides, often enough unfree individuals. The Roman family is also traced to this type, and hence the absolute authority of the master of the house and the defenselessness of the other members in regard to him is strongly questioned of late. Similar communities are furthermore said to have existed among the Celts of Ireland. In France they were preserved up to the time of the Revolution in Nivernais under the name of "parçonneries," and in the Franche Comté they are not quite extinct yet. In the region of Louhans (Saône et Loire) we find large farmhouses with a high central hall for common use reaching up to the roof and surrounded by sleeping rooms accessible by the help of stairs with six to eight steps. Several generations of the same family live together in such a house. In India, the household community with collective agriculture is already mentioned by Nearchus at the time of Alexander the Great, and it exists to this day in the same region, in the Punjab and the whole Northwest of the country. In the Caucasus it was located by Kovalevski himself. In Algeria it is still found among the Kabyles. Even in America it is said to have existed. It is supposed to be identical with the "Calpullis" described by Zurita in ancient Mexico. In Peru, however, Cunow (Ausland, 1890, No. 42-44) has demonstrated rather clearly that at the time of the conquest a sort of a constitution in marks (called curiously enough marca), with a periodical allotment of arable soil, and consequently individual tillage, was in existence. At any rate, the patriarchal household community with collective tillage and ownership of land now assumes an entirely different meaning than heretofore. We can no longer doubt that it played an important role among the civilized and some other nations of the old world in the transition from the maternal to the single family. Later on we shall return to Kovaleski's further conclusion that it was also the stage of transition from which developed the village or mark community with individual tillage and first periodical, then permanent allotment of arable and pasture lands. In regard to the family life within these household communities it must be remarked that at least in Russia the master of the house has the reputation of strongly abusing his position against the younger women of the community, especially his daughters-in-law, and of transforming them into a harem for himself. Russian popular songs are very eloquent on this point. Before taking up monogamy, which rapidly developed after the downfall of maternal law, let me say a few words about polygamy and polyandry. Both forms of the family can only be exceptions, historical products of luxury so to speak, unless they could be found side by side in the same country, which is apparently not the case. As the men excluded from polygamy cannot find consolation in the women left over by polyandry, the number of men and women being hitherto approximately equal without regard to social institutions, it becomes of itself impossible to confer on any one of these two forms the distinction of general preference. Indeed, the polygamy of one man was evidently the product of slavery, confined to certain exceptional positions. In the Semitic patriarchal family, only the patriarch himself, or at best a few of his sons, practice polygamy, the others must be satisfied with one wife. This is the case to-day in the whole Orient. Polygamy is a privilege of the wealthy and distinguished, and is mainly realized by purchase of female slaves. The mass of the people live in monogamy. Polyandry in India and Thibet is likewise an exception. Its surely not uninteresting origin from group marriage requires still closer investigation. In its practice it seems, by the way, much more tolerant than the jealous Harem establishment of the Mohammedans. At least among the Nairs of India, three, four or more men have indeed one woman in common; but every one of them may have a second woman in common with three or more other men; and in the same way a third, fourth, etc. It is strange that McLennan did not discover the new class of "club marriage" in these marital clubs, in several of which one may be a member and which he himself describes. This marriage club business is, however, by no means actual polyandry. It is on the contrary, as Giraud-Teulon already remarks, a specialized form of group marriage. The men live in polygamy, the women in polyandry. 4. THE MONOGAMOUS FAMILY. It develops from the pairing family, as we have already shown, during the time of transition from the middle to the higher stage of barbarism. Its final victory is one of the signs of beginning civilization. It is founded on male supremacy for the pronounced purpose of breeding children of indisputable paternal lineage. The latter is required, because these children shall later on inherit the fortune of their father. The monogamous family is distinguished from the pairing family by the far greater durability of wedlock, which can no longer be dissolved at the pleasure of either party. As a rule, it is only the man who can still dissolve it and cast off his wife. The privilege of conjugal faithlessness remains sanctioned for men at least by custom (the Code Napoleon concedes it directly to them, as long as they do not bring their concubines into the houses of their wives). This privilege is more and more enjoyed with the increasing development of society. If the woman remembers the ancient sexual practices and attempts to revive them, she is punished more severely than ever. The whole severity of this new form of the family confronts us among the Greeks. While, as Marx observes, the position of the female gods in mythology shows an earlier period, when women still occupied a freer and more respected plane, we find woman already degraded by the supremacy of man and the competition of slaves during the time of the heroes. Read in the Odysseia how Telemachos reproves and silences his mother. The captured young women, according to Homer, are delivered to the sensual lust of the victors. The leaders in the order of their rank select the most beautiful captives. The whole Iliad notoriously revolves around the quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon about such a captured woman. In mentioning any hero of importance, the captured girl sharing his tent and bed is never omitted. These girls are also taken into the hero's home country and his house, as Kassandra by Agamemnon in Aeschylos. Boys born by these female slaves receive a small share of the paternal heirloom and are regarded as free men. Teukros is such an illegitimate son and may use his father's name. The wife is expected to put up with everything, while herself remaining chaste and faithful. Although the Greek woman of heroic times is more highly respected than she of the civilized period, still she is for her husband only the mother of his legal heirs, his first housekeeper and the superintendent of the female slaves, whom he can and does make his concubines at will. It is this practice of slavery by the side of monogamy, the existence of young and beautiful female slaves belonging without any restriction to their master, which from the very beginning gives to monogamy the specific character of being monogamy for women only, but not for men. And this character remains to this day. For the Greeks of later times we must make a distinction between Dorians and Ionians. The former, with Sparta as their classic example, have in many respects still more antiquated marriage customs than even Homer illustrates. In Sparta existed a form of the pairing family modified by the contemporaneous ideas of the state and still recalling group marriage in many ways. Sterile marriages were dissolved. King Anaxandridas (about 650 before Christ) took another wife besides his childless one and kept two households. About the same time King Ariston added another wife to two childless ones, one of which he dismissed. Furthermore, several brothers could have one wife in common; a friend who liked his friend's wife better than his own could share her with him, and it was not considered indecent to place a wife at the disposal of a sturdy "stallion," as Bismarck would have said, even though he might not be a citizen. A certain passage in Plutarch, where a Spartan matron refers a lover, who persists in making offers to her, to her husband, seems to indicate--according to Schoemann--even a still greater sexual freedom. Also adultery, faithlessness of a wife behind her husband's back, was unheard of. On the other hand, domestic slavery in Sparta, at least during the best time, was unknown, and the serf Helots lived on separate country seats. Hence there was less temptation for a Spartan to hold intercourse with other women. As was to be expected under such circumstances, the women of Sparta occupied a more highly respected place than those of other Greeks. Spartan women and the Athenian hetaerae were the only Greek women of whom the ancients speak respectfully and whose remarks they considered worthy of notice. Quite a different condition among Ionians, whose representative is Athens. The girls learned only to spin, weave and sew, at the most a little reading and writing. They were practically shut in and had only the company of other women. The women's room formed a separate part of the house, on the upper floor or in a rear building, where men, especially strangers, did not easily enter and whither the women retreated when male visitors came. The women did not leave the house without being accompanied by a female slave. At home they were strictly guarded. Aristophanes speaks of Molossian dogs that were kept to frighten off adulterers. And at least in the Asiatic towns, eunuchs were kept for guarding women. Even at Herodotus' time these eunuchs were manufactured for the trade, and according to Wachsmuth not for barbarians alone. By Euripides woman is designated as "oikurema," a neuter signifying an object for housekeeping, and beside the business of breeding children she served to the Athenian for nothing but his chief house maid. The man had his gymnastic exercises, his public meetings, from which the women were excluded. Besides, the man very often had female slaves at his disposal, and during the most flourishing time of Athens an extensive prostitution which was at least patronized by the state. It was precisely on the basis of this prostitution that the unique type of Ionic women developed; the hetaerae. They rose by esprit and artistic taste as far above the general level of antique womanhood as the Spartan women by their character. But that it was necessary to become a hetaera before one could be a woman, constitutes the severest denunciation of the Athenian family. The Athenian family became in the course of time the model after which not only the rest of the Ionians, but gradually all the Greeks at home and abroad molded their domestic relations. Nevertheless, in spite of all seclusion and watching, the Grecian ladies found sufficient opportunity for deceiving their husbands. The latter who would have been ashamed of betraying any love for their wives, found recreation in all kinds of love affairs with hetaerae. But the degradation of the women was avenged in the men and degraded them also, until they sank into the abomination of boy-love. They degraded their gods and themselves by the myth of Ganymedes. Such was the origin of monogamy, as far as we may trace it in the most civilized and most highly developed nation of antiquity. It was by no means a fruit of individual sex-love and had nothing to do with the latter, for the marriages remained as conventional as ever. Monogamy was the first form of the family not founded on natural, but on economic conditions, viz.: the victory of private property over primitive and natural collectivism. Supremacy of the man in the family and generation of children that could be his offspring alone and were destined to be the heirs of his wealth--these were openly avowed by the Greeks to be the sole objects of monogamy. For the rest it was a burden to them, a duty to the gods, the state and their own ancestors, a duty to be fulfilled and no more. In Athens the law enforced not only the marriage, but also the fulfillment of a minimum of the so-called matrimonial duties on the man's part. Monogamy, then, does by no means enter history as a reconciliation of man and wife and still less as the highest form of marriage. On the contrary, it enters as the subjugation of one sex by the other, as the proclamation of an antagonism between the sexes unknown in all preceding history. In an old unpublished manuscript written by Marx and myself in 1846, I find the following passage: "The first division of labor is that of man and wife in breeding children." And to-day I may add: The first class antagonism appearing in history coincides with the development of the antagonism of man and wife in monogamy, and the first class oppression with that of the female by the male sex. Monogamy was a great historical progress. But by the side of slavery and private property it marks at the same time that epoch which, reaching down to our days, takes with all progress also a step backwards, relatively speaking, and develops the welfare and advancement of one by the woe and submission of the other. It is the cellular form of civilized society which enables us to study the nature of its now fully developed contrasts and contradictions. The old relative freedom of sexual intercourse by no means disappeared with the victory of the pairing or even of the monogamous family. "The old conjugal system, now reduced to narrower limits by the gradual disappearance of the punaluan groups, still environed the advancing family, which it was to follow to the verge of civilization.... It finally disappeared in the new form of hetaerism, which still follows mankind in civilization as a dark shadow upon the family."[23] By hetaerism Morgan designates sexual intercourse of men with unmarried women outside of the monogamous family, flourishing, as is well known, during the whole period of civilization in many different forms and tending more and more to open prostitution. This hetaerism is directly derived from group marriage, from the sacrificial surrender of women for the purpose of obtaining the right to chastity. The surrender for money was at first a religious act; it took place in the temple of the goddess of love and the money flowed originally into the treasury of the temple. The hierodulae of Anaitis in Armenia, of Aphrodite in Corinth and the religious dancing girls of India attached to the temples, the so-called bajaderes (derived from the Portuguese "bailadera," dancing girl), were the first prostitutes. The surrender, originally the duty of every woman, was later on practiced by these priestesses alone in representation of all others. Among other nations, hetaerism is derived from the sexual freedom permitted to girls before marriage--also a survival of the group marriage, only transmitted by another route. With the rise of different property relations, in the higher stage of barbarism, wage labor appears sporadically by the side of slavery, and at the same time its unavoidable companion, professional prostitution of free women by the side of the forced surrender of female slaves. It is the heirloom bequeathed by group marriage to civilization, a gift as ambiguous as everything else produced by ambiguous, double-faced, schismatic and contradictory civilization. Here monogamy, there hetaerism and its most extreme form, prostitution. Hetaerism is as much a social institution as all others. It continues the old sexual freedom--for the benefit of the men. In reality not only permitted, but also assiduously practised by the ruling class, it is denounced only nominally. Still in practice this denunciation strikes by no means the men who indulge in it, but only the women. These are ostracised and cast out by society, in order to proclaim once more the fundamental law of unconditional male supremacy over the female sex. However, a second contradiction is thereby developed within monogamy itself. By the side of the husband, who is making his life pleasant by hetaerism, stands the neglected wife. And you cannot have one side of the contradiction without the other, just as you cannot have the whole apple after eating half of it. Nevertheless this seems to have been the idea of the men, until their wives taught them a lesson. Monogamy introduces two permanent social characters that were formerly unknown: the standing lover of the wife and the cuckold. The men had gained the victory over the women, but the vanquished magnanimously provided the coronation. In addition to monogamy and hetaerism, adultery became an unavoidable social institution--denounced, severely punished, but irrepressible. The certainty of paternal parentage rested as of old on moral conviction at best, and in order to solve the unreconcilable contradiction, the code Napoléon decreed in its article 312: "L'enfant conçu pendant le mariage a pour père le mari;" the child conceived during marriage has for its father--the husband. This is the last result of three thousand years of monogamy. Thus we have in the monogamous family, at least in those cases that remain true to historical development and clearly express the conflict between man and wife created by the exclusive supremacy of men, a miniature picture of the contrasts and contradictions of society at large. Split by class-differences since the beginning of civilization, society has been unable to reconcile and overcome these antitheses. Of course, I am referring here only to those cases of monogamy, where matrimonial life actually remains in accord with the original character of the whole institution, but where the wife revolts against the rule of the man. Nobody knows better than your German philistine that not all marriages follow such a course. He does not understand how to maintain the control of his own home any better than that of the State, and his wife is, therefore, fully entitled to wearing the trousers, which he does not deserve. But he thinks himself far superior to his French companion in misery, who more frequently fares far worse. The monogamous family, by the way, did not everywhere and always appear in the classic severe form it had among the Greeks. Among the Romans, who as future conquerors of the world had a sharper although less refined eye than the Greeks, the women were freer and more respected. A Roman believed that the conjugal faith of his wife was sufficiently safeguarded by his power over her life and death. Moreover, the women could voluntarily dissolve the marriage as well as the men. But the highest progress in the development of monogamy was doubtless due to the entrance of the Germans into history, probably because on account of their poverty their monogamy had not yet fully outgrown the pairing family. Three facts mentioned by Tacitus favor this conclusion: In the first place, although marriage was held very sacred--"they are satisfied with one wife, the women are protected by chastity"--still polygamy was in use among the distinguished and the leaders of the tribes, as was the case in the pairing families of the American Indians. Secondly, the transition from maternal to paternal law could have taken place only a short while before, because the mother's brother--the next male relative in the gens by maternal law--was still considered almost a closer relative than the natural father, also in accordance with the standpoint of the American Indians. The latter furnished to Marx, according to his own testimony, the key to the comprehension of German primeval history. And thirdly, the German women were highly respected and also influenced public affairs, a fact directly opposed to monogamic male supremacy. In all these things the Germans almost harmonize with the Spartans, who, as we saw, also had not fully overcome the pairing family. Hence in this respect an entirely new element succeeded to the world's supremacy with the Germans. The new monogamy now developing the ruins of the Roman world from the mixture of nations endowed male rule with a milder form and accorded to women a position that was at least outwardly far more respected and free than classical antiquity ever knew. Not until now was there a possibility of developing from monogamy--in it, by the side of it or against it, as the case might be--the highest ethical progress we owe to it: the modern individual sexlove, unknown to all previous ages. This progress doubtless arose from the fact that the Germans still lived in the pairing family and inoculated monogamy as far as possible with the position of women corresponding to the former. It was in no way due to the legendary and wonderfully pure natural qualities of the Germans. These qualities were limited to the simple fact that the pairing family indeed does not create the marked moral contrasts of monogamy. On the contrary, the Germans, especially those who wandered southeast among the nomadic nations of the Black Sea, had greatly degenerated morally. Beside the equestrian tricks of the inhabitants of the steppe they had also acquired some very unnatural vices. This is expressly confirmed of the Thaifali by Ammianus and of the Heruli by Prokop. Although monogamy was the only one of all known forms of the family in which modern sexlove could develop, this does not imply that it developed exclusively or even principally as mutual love of man and wife. The very nature of strict monogamy under man's rule excluded this. Among all historically active, i. e., ruling, classes matrimony remained what it had been since the days of the pairing family--a conventional matter arranged by the parents. And the first historical form of sexlove as a passion, as an attribute of every human being (at least of the ruling classes), the specific character of the highest form of the sexual impulse, this first form, the love of the knights in the middle ages, was by no means matrimonial love, but quite the contrary. In its classic form, among the Provençals, it heads with full sails for adultery and their poets extol the latter. The flower of Provençal love poetry, the Albas, describe in glowing colors how the knight sleeps with his adored--the wife of another--while the watchman outside calls him at the first faint glow of the morning (alba) and enables him to escape unnoticed. The poems culminate in the parting scene. Likewise the Frenchmen of the north and also the honest Germans adopted this style of poetry and the manner of knightly love corresponding to it. Old Wolfram von Eschenbach has left us three wonderful "day songs" treating this same questionable subject, and I like them better than his three heroic epics. Civil matrimony in our day is of two kinds. In Catholic countries, the parents provide a fitting spouse for their son as of old, and the natural consequence is the full development of the contradictions inherent to monogamy: voluptuous hetaerism on the man's part, voluptuous adultery of the woman. Probably the Catholic church has abolished divorce for the simple reason that it had come to the conclusion, there was as little help for adultery as for death. In Protestant countries, again, it is the custom to give the bourgeois son more or less liberty in choosing his mate. Hence a certain degree of love may be at the bottom of such a marriage and for the sake of propriety this is always assumed, quite in keeping with Protestant hypocrisy. In this case hetaerism is carried on less strenuously and adultery on the part of the woman is not so frequent. But as human beings remain under any form of marriage what they were before marrying, and as the citizens of Protestant countries are mostly philistines, this Protestant monogamy on the average of the best cases confines itself to the community of a leaden ennui, labeled wedded bliss. The best mirror of these two species of marriage is the novel, the French novel for the Catholic, the German novel for the Protestant brand. In both of these novels they "get one another:" in the German novel the man gets the girl, in the French novel the husband gets the horns. It does not always go without saying which of the two deserves the most pity. For this reason the tediousness of the German novels is abhorred as much by the French bourgeois as the "immorality" of the French novels by the German philistine. Of late, since Berlin became cosmopolitan, the German novel begins to treat somewhat timidly of the hetaerism and adultery that a long time ago became familiar features of that city. In both cases the marriage is influenced by the class environment of the participants, and in this respect it always remains conventional. This conventionalism often enough results in the most pronounced prostitution--sometimes of both parties, more commonly of the woman. She is distinguished from a courtisane only in that she does not offer her body for money by the hour like a commodity, but sells it into slavery for once and all. Fourier's words hold good with respect to all conventional marriages: "As in grammar two negatives make one affirmative, so in matrimonial ethics, two prostitutions are considered as one virtue." Sexual love in man's relation to woman becomes and can become the rule among the oppressed classes alone, among the proletarians of our day--no matter whether this relation is officially sanctioned or not. Here all the fundamental conditions of classic monogamy have been abolished. Here all property is missing and it was precisely for the protection and inheritance of this that monogamy and man rule were established. Hence all incentive to make this rule felt is wanting here. More still, the funds are missing. Civil law protecting male rule applies only to the possessing classes and their intercourse with proletarians. Law is expensive and therefore the poverty of the laborer makes it meaningless for his relation to his wife. Entirely different personal and social conditions decide in this case. And finally, since the great industries have removed women from the home to the labor market and to the factory, the last remnant of man rule in the proletarian home has lost its ground--except, perhaps, a part of the brutality against women that has become general since the advent of monogamy. Thus the family of the proletarian is no longer strictly monogamous, even with all the most passionate love and the most unalterable loyalty of both parties, and in spite of any possible clerical or secular sanction. Consequently the eternal companions of monogamy, hetaerism and adultery, play an almost insignificant role here. The woman has practically regained the right of separation, and if a couple cannot agree, they rather separate. In short, the proletarian marriage is monogamous in the etymological sense of the word, but by no means in a historical sense. True, our jurists hold that the progress of legislation continually lessens all cause of complaint for women. The modern systems of civil law recognize, first that marriage, in order to be legal, must be a contract based on voluntary consent of both parties, and secondly that during marriage the relations of both parties shall be founded on equal rights and duties. These two demands logically enforced will, so they claim, give to women everything they could possibly ask. This genuinely juridical argumentation is exactly the same as that used by the radical republican bourgeois to cut short and dismiss the proletarian. The labor contract is said to be voluntarily made by both parties. But it is considered as voluntary when the law places both parties on equal terms on paper. The power conferred on one party by the division of classes, the pressure thereby exerted on the other party, the actual economic relation of the two--all this does not concern the law. Again, during the term of the contract both parties are held to have equal rights, unless one has expressly renounced his right. That the economic situation forces the laborer to give up even the last semblance of equality, that is not the fault of the law. In regard to marriage, even the most advanced law is completely satisfied after both parties have formally declared their willingness. What passes behind the juridical scenes where the actual process of living is going on, and how this willingness is brought about, that cannot be the business of the law and the jurist. Yet the simplest legal comparison should show to the jurist what this willingness really means. In those countries where a legitimate portion of the parental wealth is assured to children and where these cannot be disinherited--in Germany, in countries with French law, etc.--the children are bound to secure the consent of their parents for marrying. In countries with English law, where the consent of the parents is by no means a legal qualification of marriage, the parents have full liberty to bequeath their wealth to anyone and may disinherit their children at will. Hence it is clear that among classes having any property to bequeath the freedom to marry is not a particle greater in England and America than in France and Germany. The legal equality of man and woman in marriage is by no means better founded. Their legal inequality inherited from earlier stages of society is not the cause, but the effect of the economic oppression of women. In the ancient communistic household comprising many married couples and their children, the administration of the household entrusted to women was just as much a public function, a socially necessary industry, as the procuring of food by men. In the patriarchal and still more in the monogamous family this was changed. The administration of the household lost its public character. It was no longer a concern of society. It became a private service. The woman became the first servant of the house, excluded from participation in social production. Only by the great industries of our time the access to social production was again opened for women--for proletarian women alone, however. This is done in such a manner that they remain excluded from public production and cannot earn anything, if they fulfill their duties in the private service of the family; or that they are unable to attend to their family duties, if they wish to participate in public industries and earn a living independently. As in the factory, so women are situated in all business departments up to the medical and legal professions. The modern monogamous family is founded on the open or disguised domestic slavery of women, and modern society is a mass composed of molecules in the form of monogamous families. In the great majority of cases the man has to earn a living and to support his family, at least among the possessing classes. He thereby obtains a superior position that has no need of any legal special privilege. In the family, he is the bourgeois, the woman represents the proletariat. In the industrial world, however, the specific character of the economic oppression weighing on the proletariat appears in its sharpest outlines only after all special privileges of the capitalist class are abolished and the full legal equality of both classes is established. A democratic republic does not abolish the distinction between the two classes. On the contrary, it offers the battleground on which this distinction can be fought out. Likewise the peculiar character of man's rule over woman in the modern family, the necessity and the manner of accomplishing the real social equality of the two, will appear in broad daylight only then, when both of them will enjoy complete legal equality. It will then be seen that the emancipation of women is primarily dependent on the re-introduction of the whole female sex into the public industries. To accomplish this, the monogamous family must cease to be the industrial unit of society. * * * * * We have, then, three main forms of the family, corresponding in general to the three main stages of human development. For savagery group marriage, for barbarism the pairing family, for civilization monogamy supplemented by adultery and prostitution. Between the pairing family and monogamy, in the higher stage of barbarism, the rule of men over female slaves and polygamy is inserted. As we proved by our whole argument, the progress visible in this chain of phenomena is connected with the peculiarity of more and more curtailing the sexual freedom of the group marriage for women, but not for men. And group marriage is actually practised by men to this day. What is considered a crime for women and entails grave legal and social consequences for them, is considered honorable for men or in the worst case a slight moral blemish born with pleasure. But the more traditional hetaerism is changed in our day by capitalistic production and conforms to it, the more hetaerism is transformed into undisguised prostitution, the more demoralizing are its effects. And it demoralizes men far more than women. Prostitution does not degrade the whole female sex, but only the luckless women that become its victims, and even those not to the extent generally assumed. But it degrades the character of the entire male world. Especially a long engagement is in nine cases out of ten a perfect training school of adultery. We are now approaching a social revolution, in which the old economic foundations of monogamy will disappear just as surely as those of its complement, prostitution. Monogamy arose through the concentration of considerable wealth in one hand--a man's hand--and from the endeavor to bequeath this wealth to the children of this man to the exclusion of all others. This necessitated monogamy on the woman's, but not on the man's part. Hence this monogamy of women in no way hindered open or secret polygamy of men. Now, the impending social revolution will reduce this whole care of inheritance to a minimum by changing at least the overwhelming part of permanent and inheritable wealth--the means of production--into social property. Since monogamy was caused by economic conditions, will it disappear when these causes are abolished? One might reply, not without reason: not only will it not disappear, but it will rather be perfectly realized. For with the transformation of the means of production into collective property, wage labor will also disappear, and with it the proletariat and the necessity for a certain, statistically ascertainable number of women to surrender for money. Prostitution disappears and monogamy, instead of going out of existence, at last becomes a reality--for men also. At all events, the situation will be very much changed for men. But also that of women, and of all women, will be considerably altered. With the transformation of the means of production into collective property the monogamous family ceases to be the economic unit of society. The private household changes to a social industry. The care and education of children becomes a public matter. Society cares equally well for all children, legal or illegal. This removes the care about the "consequences" which now forms the essential social factor--moral and economic--hindering a girl to surrender unconditionally to the beloved man. Will not this be sufficient cause for a gradual rise of a more unconventional intercourse of the sexes and a more lenient public opinion regarding virgin honor and female shame? And finally, did we not see that in the modern world monogamy and prostitution, though antitheses, are inseparable and poles of the same social condition? Can prostitution disappear without engulfing at the same time monogamy? Here a new element becomes active, an element which at best existed only in the germ at the time when monogamy developed: individual sexlove. Before the middle ages we cannot speak of individual sexlove. It goes without saying that personal beauty, intimate intercourse, harmony of inclinations, etc., awakened a longing for sexual intercourse in persons of different sex, and that it was not absolutely immaterial to men and women, with whom they entered into such most intimate intercourse. But from such a relation to our sexlove there is a long way yet. All through antiquity marriages were arranged for the participants by the parents, and the former quietly submitted. What little matrimonial love was known to antiquity was not subjective inclination, but objective duty; not cause, but corollary of marriage. Love affairs in a modern sense occurred in classical times only outside of official society. The shepherds whose happiness and woe in love is sung by Theocritos and Moschus, such as Daphnis and Chloë of Longos, all these were slaves who had no share in the state and in the daily sphere of the free citizen. Outside of slave circles we find love affairs only as products of disintegration of the sinking old world. Their objects are women who also are standing outside of official society, hetaerae that are either foreigners or liberated slaves: in Athens since the beginning of its decline, in Rome at the time of the emperors. If love affairs really occurred between free male and female citizens, it was only in the form of adultery. And to the classical love poet of antiquity, the old Anakreon, sexlove in our sense was so immaterial, that he did not even care a fig for the sex of the beloved being. Our sexlove is essentially different from the simple sexual craving, the Eros, of the ancients. In the first place it presupposes mutual love. In this respect woman is the equal of man, while in the antique Eros her permission is by no means always asked. In the second place our sexlove has such a degree of intensity and duration that in the eyes of both parties lack of possession and separation appear as a great, if not the greatest, calamity. In order to possess one another they play for high stakes, even to the point of risking their lives, a thing heard of only in adultery during the classical age. And finally a new moral standard is introduced for judging sexual intercourse. We not only ask: "Was it legal or illegal?" but also: "Was it caused by mutual love or not?" Of course, this new standard meets with no better fate in feudal or bourgeois practice than all other moral standards--it is simply ignored. But neither does it fare worse. It is recognized just as much as the others--in theory, on paper. And that is all we can expect at present. Where antiquity left off with its attempts at sexual love, there the middle ages resumed the thread: with adultery. We have already described the love of the knights that invented the day songs. From this love endeavoring to break through the bonds of marriage to the love destined to found marriage, there is a long distance which was never fully traversed by the knights. Even in passing on from the frivolous Romanic race to the virtuous Germans, we find in the Nibelungen song Kriemhild, who secretly is no less in love with Siegfried than he with her, meekly replying to Gunther's announcement that he has pledged her in troth to a certain knight whom he does not name: "You need not beg for my consent; as you will demand, so I shall ever be; whomever you, sir, will select for my husband, I shall willingly take in troth." It does not enter her head at all that her love could find any consideration. Gunther asks for Brunhild, Etzel for Kriemhild without ever having seen one another. The same is true of the suit of Gutrun Sigebant of Ireland for the Norwegian Ute and of Hetel of Hegelingen for Hilda of Ireland. When Siegfried of Morland, Hartmut of Oranien and Herwig of Sealand court Gutrun, then it happens for the first time that the lady voluntarily decides, favoring the last named knight. As a rule the bride of the young prince is selected by his parents. Only when the latter are no longer alive, he chooses his own bride with the advice of the great feudal lords who in all cases of this kind have a decisive voice. Nor could it be otherwise. For the knight and the baron as well as for the ruler of the realm himself, marriage is a political act, an opportunity for increasing their power by new federations. The interest of the house must decide, not the arbitrary inclination of the individual. How could love have a chance to decide the question of marriage in the last instance under such conditions? The same held good for the bourgeois of the medieval towns, the members of the guilds. Precisely the privileges protecting them, the clauses and restrictions of the guild charters, the artificial lines of division separating them legally, here from the other guilds, there from their journeymen and apprentices, drew a sufficiently narrow circle for the selection of a fitting bourgeois spouse. Under such a complicated system, the question of fitness was unconditionally decided, not by individual inclination, but by family interests. In the overwhelming majority of cases the marriage contract thus remained to the end of the middle ages what it had been from the outset: a matter that was not decided by the parties most interested. In the beginning one was already married from his birth--married to a whole group of the other sex. In the later forms of group marriage, a similar relation was probably maintained, only under a continual narrowing of the group. In the pairing family it is the rule for mothers to exchange mutual pledges for the marriage of their children. Here also the main consideration is given to new ties of relationship that will strengthen the position of the young couple in the gens and the tribe. And when with the preponderance of private property over collective property and with the interest for inheritance paternal law and monogamy assumed the supremacy, then marriage became still more dependent on economic considerations. The form of purchase marriage disappears, but the essence of the transaction is more and more intensified, so that not only the woman, but also the man have a fixed price--not according to his qualities, but to his wealth. That mutual fondness of the marrying parties should be the one factor dominating all others had always been unheard of in the practice of the ruling classes. Such a thing occurred at best in romances or--among the oppressed classes that were not counted. This was the situation encountered by capitalist production when it began to prepare, since the epoch of geographical discoveries, for the conquest of the world by international trade and manufacture. One would think that this mode of making the marriage contract would have been extremely acceptable to capitalism, and it was. And yet--the irony of fate is inexplicable--capitalist production had to make the decisive breach through this mode. By changing all things into commodities, it dissolved all inherited and traditional relations and replaced time hallowed custom and historical right by purchase and sale, by the "free contract." And the English jurist, H. S. Maine, thought he had made a stupendous discovery by saying that our whole progress over former epochs consisted in arriving from status to contract, from inherited to voluntarily contracted conditions. So far as this is correct, it had already been mentioned in the Communist Manifesto. But in order to make contracts, people must have full freedom over their persons, actions and possessions. They must furthermore be on terms of mutual equality. The creation of these "free" and "equal" people was precisely one of the main functions of capitalistic production. What though this was done at first in a half-conscious way and, moreover, in a religious disguise? Since the Lutheran and Calvinist reformation the thesis was accepted that a human being is fully responsible for his actions only then, when these actions were due to full freedom of will. And it was held to be a moral duty to resist any compulsion for an immoral action. How did this agree with the prevailing practice of match-making? Marriage according to bourgeois conception was a contract, a legal business affair, and the most important one at that, because it decided the weal and woe of body and spirit of two beings for life. At that time the agreement was formally voluntary; without the consent of the contracting parties nothing could be done. But it was only too well known how this consent was obtained and who were really the contracting parties. If, however, perfect freedom of decision is demanded for all other contracts, why not for this one? Did not the two young people who were to be coupled together have the right freely to dispose of themselves, of their bodies and the organs of these? Had not sexual love become the custom through the knights and was not, in opposition to knightly adultery, the love of married couples its proper bourgeois form? And if it was the duty of married couples to love one another, was it not just as much the duty of lovers to marry each other and nobody else? Stood not the right of lovers higher than the right of parents, relatives and other customary marriage brokers and matrimonial agents? If the right of free personal investigation made its way unchecked into the church and religion, how could it bear with the insupportable claims of the older generation on the body, soul, property, happiness and misfortune of the younger generation? These questions had to be raised at a time when all the old ties of society were loosened and all traditional conceptions tottering. The size of the world had increased tenfold at a bound. Instead of one quadrant of one hemisphere, the whole globe now spread before the eyes of West Europeans who hastened to take possession of the other seven quadrants. And the thousand-year-old barriers of conventional medieval thought fell like the old narrow obstacles to marriage. An infinitely wider horizon opened out before the outer and inner eyes of humanity. What mattered the well-meaning propriety, what the honorable privilege of the guild overcome through generations to the young man tempted by the gold and silver mines of Mexico and Potosi? It was the knight errant time of the bourgeoisie. It had its own romances and love dreams, but on a bourgeois footing and, in the last instance, with bourgeois aims. Thus it came about that the rising bourgeoisie more and more recognized the freedom of contracting in marriage and carried it through in the manner described above, especially in Protestant countries, where existing institutions were most strongly shaken. Marriage remained class marriage, but within the class a certain freedom of choice was accorded to the contracting parties. And on paper, in moral theory as in poetical description, nothing was more unalterably established than the idea that every marriage was immoral unless founded on mutual sex-love and perfectly free agreement of husband and wife. In short, the love match was proclaimed as a human right, not only as droit de l'homme--man's right--but also for once as droit de femme--woman's right. However, this human right differed from all other so-called human rights in one respect. While in practice other rights remained the privileges of the ruling class, the bourgeoisie, and were directly or indirectly curtailed for proletarians, the irony of history once more asserted itself in this case. The ruling class remains subject to well-known economic influences and, therefore, shows marriage by free selection only in exceptional cases. But among the oppressed class, love matches are the rule, as we have seen. Hence the full freedom of marriage can become general only after all minor economic considerations, that still exert such a powerful influence on the choice of a mate for life, have been removed by the abolition of capitalistic production and of the property relations created by it. Then no other motive will remain but mutual fondness. Since sexlove is exclusive by its very nature--although this exclusiveness is at present realized for women alone--marriage founded on sexlove must be monogamous. We have seen that Bachofen was perfectly right in regarding the progress from group marriage to monogamy mainly as the work of women. Only the advance from the pairing family to monogamy must be charged to the account of men. This advance implied, historically, a deterioration in the position of women and a greater opportunity for men to be faithless. Remove the economic considerations that now force women to submit to the customary disloyalty of men, and you will place women on a equal footing with men. All present experiences prove that this will tend much more strongly to make men truly monogamous, than to make women polyandrous. However, those peculiarities that were stamped upon the face of monogamy by its rise through property relations, will decidedly vanish, namely the supremacy of men and the indissolubility of marriage. The supremacy of man in marriage is simply the consequence of his economic superiority and will fall with the abolition of the latter. The indissolubility of marriage is partly the consequence of economic conditions, under which monogamy arose, partly tradition from the time where the connection between this economic situation and monogamy, not yet clearly understood, was carried to extremes by religion. To-day, it has been perforated a thousand times. If marriage founded on love is alone moral, then it follows that marriage is moral only as long as love lasts. The duration of an attack of individual sexlove varies considerably according to individual disposition, especially in men. A positive cessation of fondness or its replacement by a new passionate love makes a separation a blessing for both parties and for society. But humanity will be spared the useless wading through the mire of a divorce case. What we may anticipate about the adjustment of sexual relations after the impending downfall of capitalist production is mainly of a negative nature and mostly confined to elements that will disappear. But what will be added? That will be decided after a new generation has come to maturity: a race of men who never in their lives have had any occasion for buying with money or other economic means of power the surrender of a woman; a race of women who have never had any occasion for surrendering to any man for any other reason but love, or for refusing to surrender to their lover from fear of economic consequences. Once such people are in the world, they will not give a moment's thought to what we to-day believe should be their course. They will follow their own practice and fashion their own public opinion about the individual practice of every person--only this and nothing more. But let us return to Morgan from whom we moved away a considerable distance. The historical investigation of social institutions developed during the period of civilization exceeds the limits of his book. Hence the vicissitudes of monogamy during this epoch occupy him very briefly. He also sees in the further development of the monogamous family a progress, an approach to perfect equality of the sexes, without considering this aim fully realized. But he says: "When the fact is accepted that the family has passed through four successive forms, and is now in a fifth, the question at once arises whether this form can be permanent in the future. The only answer that can be given is that it must advance as society advances, and change as society changes, even as it has done in the past. It is the creature of the social system, and will reflect its culture. As the monogamian family has improved greatly since the commencement of civilization, and very sensibly in modern times, it is at least supposable that it is capable of still farther improvement until the equality of the sexes is attained. Should the monogamian family in the distant future fail to answer the requirements of society, assuming the continuous progress of civilization, it is impossible to predict the nature of its successor." FOOTNOTES: [7] Author's note. How little Bachofen understood what he had discovered, or rather guessed, is proved by the term "hetaerism," which he applies to this primeval stage. Hetaerism designated among the Greeks an intercourse of men, single or living in monogamy, with unmarried women. It always presupposes the existence of a well defined form of marriage, outside of which this intercourse takes place, and includes the possibility of prostitution. In another sense this word was never used, and I use it in this sense with Morgan. Bachofen's very important discoveries are everywhere mystified in the extreme by his idea that the historical relations of man and wife have their source in the religious conceptions of a certain period, not in the economic conditions of life. [8] Translator's note. The female of the European cuckoo (cuculus canorus) keeps intercourse with several males in different districts during the same season. Still, this is far from the human polyandry, in which the men and one women all live together in the same place, the men mutually tolerating one another, which male cuckoos do not. [9] Westermarck, The History of Human Marriage, London, 1891. [10] Espinas, Des Societes Animales, 1877. [11] Espinas, l. c., quoted by Giraud-Teulon, Origines du mariage et de la famille, 1884, p. 518-20. [12] Author's note. In the spring of 1882, Marx expressed himself in the strongest terms on the total misrepresentation of primeval times by Wagner's Nibelungen text: "Who ever heard of a brother embracing his sister as a bride?" To these lascivious Wagnerian gods who in truly modern style are rendering their love quarrels more spicy by a little incest, Marx replies: "In primeval times the sister was the wife and that was moral." (To the fourth edition.) A French friend and admirer of Wagner does not consent to this foot note, and remarks that even in the Oegisdrecka, the more ancient Edda on which Wagner built, Loki denounces Freya: "Before the gods you embraced your own brother." This, he says, proves that marriage between brother and sister was interdicted even then. But the Oegisdrecka is the expression of a time when the belief in the old myths was totally shaken; it is a truly Lucian satire on the gods. If Loki as Mephisto denounces Freya in this manner, then it is rather a point against Wagner. Loki also says, a few verses further on, to Niordhr: "With your sister you generated (such) a son" ("vidh systur thinni gatzu slikan mog"). Niordhr is not an Asa, but a Vana, and says in the Ynglinga Saga that marriages between brothers and sisters are sanctioned in Vanaland, which is not the case among the Asas. This would indicate that the Vanas are older gods than the Asas. At any rate Niordhr lived on equal terms with the Asas, and the Oegisdrecka is thus rather a proof that at the time of the origin of the Norwegian mythology the marriage of brother and sister was not yet repulsive, at least not to the gods. In trying to excuse Wagner it might be better to quote Goethe instead of the Edda. This poet commits a similar error in his ballad of the god and the bajadere in regard to the religious surrender of women and approaches modern prostitution far too closely. [13] There is no longer any doubt that the traces of unrestricted sexual intercourse, which Bachofen alleges to have found--called "incestuous generation" by him--are traceable to group marriage. If Bachofen considers those Punaluan marriages "lawless," a man of that period would look upon most of our present marriages between near and remote cousins on the father's or mother's side as incestuous, being marriages between consanguineous relatives.--Marx. [14] The People of India. [15] See translator's note, p. 55. [16] Translator's note. According to Cunow, Kroki and Kumite are phratries. See "Die Verwandschaftsorganizationen der Australneger," by Heinrich Cunow. Stuttgart, Dietz Verlag, 1894. [17] Translator's note. Heinrich Cunow has given us the results of his most recent investigations in his "Verwandschaftsorganisationen der Australneger." He sums up his studies in these words: "While Morgan and Fison regard the system of marriage classes as an original organization preceding the so-called Punaluan family, I have found that the class is indeed older than the gens, having its origin in the different strata of generations characteristic of the "consanguine family" of Morgan; but the present mode of classification in force among Kamilaroi, Kabi, Yuipera, etc., cannot have arisen until a much later time, when the gentile institution had already grown out of the horde. This system of classification does not represent the first timid steps of evolution; it is not the most primitive of any known forms of social organization, but an intermediate form that takes shape together with the gentile society, a stage of transition to a pure gentile organization. In this stage, the generic classification in strata of different ages belonging to the so-called consanguine family runs parallel for a while with the gentile order.... It would have been easy for me to quote the testimony of travelers and ethnologists in support of the conclusions drawn by me from the forms of relationship among Australian negroes. But I purposely refrain from doing this, with a few exceptions, first because I do not wish to write a general history of the primitive family, and, secondly, because I consider all references of this kind as very doubtful testimony, unless they are accompanied by an analysis of the entire organization. We frequently find analogies to the institutions of a lower stage in a high stage, and yet they are founded on radically different premises and causes. The evolution of the Australian aborigines shows that. Among the Australians of the lower stage, e. g., the hordes are endogamous, among those of the middle stage they are exogamous, and in the higher stage they are again endogamous. But while in the one instance the marriage in the horde is conditioned on the fact that the more remote relatives are not yet excluded from sexual intercourse, it is founded in the other case on the difference between local and sexual organization. Furthermore, the marriage between daughter and father is permitted in the lower stage, and again in that higher stage, where the class organization of the Kamilaroi is on the verge of dissolution. But in both cases the circle of those who are regarded as fathers is entirely different. The character of an institution can only be perfectly understood, if we examine its connection with the entire organization, and, if possible, trace its metamorphoses in the preceding stages.... The characteristic feature of the class system is that by the side of the gentile order, such as is found among the North American Indians, there is always another system of four marriage classes for the purpose of limiting sexual intercourse between certain groups of relatives. Neither the phratry nor the gens of the Kamilaroi forms a distinct territorial community. Their members are scattered among different roving hordes, and they only meet occasionally, e. g., to celebrate a feast or dance.... The origin of gentile systems out of Punaluan groups has never been proven, while we see among the Australian negroes that the classes are clearly and irrefutably in existence among the first traces of gentilism.... The class system in its original form is a conclusive proof of Morgan's theory, that the first step in the formation of systems of relationship consisted in prohibiting sexual intercourse between parents and children (in a wider sense).... It has been often disputed that the Punaluan family ever existed outside of the Sandwich Islands. But the marriage institutions of certain Australian tribes named by me prove the contrary. The Pirrauru of the Dieyerie is absolutely identical with the Punalua of the Hawaiians; and these institutions were not described by travelers who rushed through the territories of those tribes without knowing their language, but by men who lived among them for decades and fully mastered their dialects.... I have shown how far the class system corresponds to the Hawaiian system. It is and remains a fact, that it contains a long series of terms that cannot be explained by the relations in the so-called consanguine family, and the use of which creates confusion, if applied to this family. But that simply shows that Morgan was mistaken about the age and present structure of the Hawaiian system. It does not prove that it could not have grown on the basis assumed by him.... If the opponents of Morgan dispute that the so-called consanguine family is based on blood kinship, they are right, unless we wish to assign an exceptional position to the Australian strata of generations. But if they go further and declare that the subsequent restrictions of inbreeding and the gentile order have arisen independently of relationships, they commit a far greater mistake than Morgan. They block their way to an understanding of subsequent organizations and force themselves to all sorts of queer assumptions that at once appear as the fruits of imagination, when compared with the actual institutions of primitive peoples. This explanation of the phases of development of family institutions contradicts present day views on the matter. Since the scientific investigations of the last decade have demonstrated beyond doubt that the so-called patriarchal family was preceded by the matriarchal family, it has become the custom to regard descent by females as a natural institution belonging to the very first stages of development which is explained by the modes of existence and thought among savages. Paternity being a matter of speculation, maternity of actual observation, it is supposed to follow that descent by females was always recognized. But the development of the Australian systems of relationship shows that this is not true, at least not in regard to Australians. The fact cannot be disputed away, that we find female lineage among all those higher developed tribes that have progressed to the formation of gentile organizations, but male lineage among all those that have no gentile organizations or where these are only in process of formation. Not a single tribe has been discovered so far, where female lineage was not combined with gentile organization, and I doubt that any will ever be found." [18] The History of Human Marriage, p. 28-29. [19] Mutterrecht, p. xix. [20] A Journey in Brazil. Boston and New York, 1886. Page 266. [21] Bancroft, Native Races, I., 81. [22] Ibidem, p. 584. [23] Morgan, Ancient Society, p. 504. CHAPTER III. THE IROQUOIS GENS. We now come to another discovery of Morgan that is at least as important as the reconstruction of the primeval form of the family from the systems of kinship. It is the proof that the sex organizations within the tribe of North American Indians, designated by animal names, are essentially identical with the genea of the Greeks and the gentes of the Romans; that the American form is the original from which the Greek and Roman forms were later derived; that the whole organization of Greek and Roman society during primeval times in gens, phratry and tribe finds its faithful parallel in that of the American Indians; that the gens is an institution common to all barbarians up to the time of civilization--at least so far as our present sources of information reach. This demonstration has cleared at a single stroke the most difficult passages of remotest ancient Greek and Roman history. At the same time it has given us unexpected information concerning the fundamental outlines of the constitution of society in primeval times--before the introduction of the state. Simple as the matter is after we have once found it out, still it was only lately discovered by Morgan. In his work of 1871 he had not yet unearthed this mystery. Its revelation has completely silenced for the time being those generally so overconfident English authorities on primeval history. The Latin word gens, used by Morgan generally for the designation of this sex organization, is derived, like the equivalent Greek word genos, from the common Aryan root gan, signifying to beget. Gens, genos, Sanskrit dschanas, Gothic kuni, ancient Norse and Anglesaxon kyn, English kin, Middle High German künne, all signify lineage, descent. Gens in Latin, genos in Greek, specially designate that sex organization which boasted of common descent (from a common sire) and was united into a separate community by certain social and religious institutions, but the origin and nature of which nevertheless remained obscure to all our historians. Elsewhere, in speaking of the Punaluan family, we saw how the gens was constituted in its original form. It consisted of all individuals who by means of the Punaluan marriage and in conformity with the conceptions necessarily arising in it made up the recognized offspring of a certain ancestral mother, the founder of that gens. Since fatherhood is uncertain in this form of the family, female lineage is alone valid. And as brothers must not marry their sisters, but only women of foreign descent, the children bred from these foreign women do not belong to the gens, according to maternal law. Hence only the offspring of the daughters of every generation remain in the same sex organization. The descendants of the sons are transferred to the gentes of the new mothers. What becomes of this group of kinship when it constitutes itself a separate group, distinct from similar groups in the same tribe? As the classical form of this original gens Morgan selects that of the Iroquois, more especially that of the Seneca tribe. This tribe has eight gentes named after animals: 1. Wolf. 2. Bear. 3. Turtle. 4. Beaver. 5. Deer. 6. Snipe. 7. Heron. 8. Hawk. Every gens observes the following customs: 1. The gens elects its sachem (official head during peace) and its chief (leader in war). The sachem must be selected within the gens and his office was in a sense hereditary. It had to be filled immediately after a vacancy occurred. The chief could be selected outside of the gens, and his office could even be temporarily vacant. The son never followed his father in the office of sachem, because the Iroquois observed maternal law, in consequence of which the son belonged to another gens. But the brother or the son of a sister was often elected as a successor. Men and women both voted in elections. The election, however, had to be confirmed by the other seven gentes, and then only the sachem-elect was solemnly invested, by the common council of the whole Iroquois federation. The significance of this will be seen later. The power of the sachem within the tribe was of a paternal, purely moral nature. He had no means of coercion at his command. He was besides by virtue of his office a member of the tribal council of the Senecas and of the federal council of the whole Iroquois nation. The Chief had the right to command only in times of war. 2. The gens can retire the sachem and the chief at will. This again is done by men and women jointly. The retired men are considered simple warriors and private persons like all others. The tribal council, by the way, can also retire the sachems, even against the will of the tribe. 3. No member is permitted to marry within the gens. This is the fundamental rule of the gens, the tie that holds it together. It is the negative expression of the very positive blood relationship, by virtue of which the individuals belonging to it become a gens. By the discovery of this simple fact Morgan for the first time revealed the nature of the gens. How little the gens had been understood before him is proven by former reports on savages and barbarians, in which the different organizations of which the gentile order is composed are jumbled together without understanding and distinction as tribe, clan, thum, etc. Sometimes it is stated that intermarrying within these organizations is forbidden. This gave rise to the hopeless confusion, in which McLennan could pose as Napoleon and establish order by the decree: All tribes are divided into those that forbid intermarrying (exogamous) and those that permit it (endogamous). And after he had thus made confusion worse confounded, he could indulge in deep meditations which of his two preposterous classes was the older: exogamy or endogamy. By the discovery of the gens founded on affinity of blood and the resulting impossibility of its members to intermarry, this nonsense found a natural end. It is self understood that the marriage interdict within the gens was strictly observed at the stage in which we find the Iroquois. 4. The property of deceased members fell to the share of the other gentiles; it had to remain in the gens. In view of the insignificance of the objects an Iroquois could leave behind, the nearest gentile relations divided the heritage. Was the deceased a man, then his natural brothers, sisters and the brothers of the mother shared in his property. Was it a woman, then her children and natural sisters shared, but not her brothers. For this reason husband and wife could not inherit from one another, nor the children from the father. 5. The gentile members owed to each other help, protection and especially assistance in revenging injury inflicted by strangers. The individual relied for his protection on the gens and could be assured of it. Whoever injured the individual, injured the whole gens. From this blood kinship arose the obligation to blood revenge that was unconditionally recognized by the Iroquois. If a stranger killed a gentile member, the whole gens of the slain man was pledged to revenge his death. First mediation was tried. The gens of the slayer deliberated and offered to the gentile council of the slain propositions for atonement, consisting generally in expressions of regret and presents of considerable value. If these were accepted, the matter was settled. In the opposite case the injured gens appointed one or more avengers who were obliged to pursue the slayer and to kill him. If they succeeded, the gens of the slayer had no right to complain. The account was squared. 6. The gens had certain distinct names or series of names, which no other gens in the whole tribe could use, so that the name of the individual indicated to what gens he belonged. A gentile name at the same time bestowed gentile rights. 7. The gens may adopt strangers who thereby are adopted into the whole tribe. The prisoners of war who were not killed became by adoption into a gens tribal members of the Senecas and thus received full gentile and tribal rights. The adoption took place on the motion of some gentile members, of men who accepted the stranger as a brother or sister, of women who accepted him as a child. The solemn introduction into the gens was necessary to confirm the adoption. Frequently certain gentes that had shrunk exceptionally were thus strengthened by mass adoptions from another gens with the consent of the latter. Among the Iroquois the solemn introduction into the gens took place in a public meeting of the tribal council, whereby it actually became a religious ceremony. The existence of special religious celebrations among Indian gentes can hardly be demonstrated. But the religious rites of the Indians are more or less connected with the gens. At the six annual religious festivals of the Iroquois the sachems and chiefs of the different gentes were added to the "Keepers of the Faith" and had the functions of priests. 9. The gens had a common burial place. Among the Iroquois of the State of New York, who are crowded by white men all around them, the burial place has disappeared, but it existed formerly. Among other Indians it is still in existence, e. g., among the Tuscaroras, near relatives of the Iroquois, where every gens has a row by itself in the burial place, although they are Christians. The mother is buried in the same row as her children, but not the father. And among the Iroquois the whole gens of the deceased attends the funeral, prepares the grave and provides the addresses, etc. 10. The gens had a council, the democratic assembly of all male and female gentiles of adult age, all with equal suffrage. This council elected and deposed its sachems and chiefs; likewise the other "Keepers of the Faith." It deliberated on gifts of atonement or blood revenge for murdered gentiles and it adopted strangers into the gens. In short, it was the sovereign power in the gens. The following are the rights and privileges of the typical Indian gens, according to Morgan: "All the members of an Iroquois gens were personally free, and they were bound to defend each other's freedom; they were equal in privileges and in personal rights, the sachems and chiefs claiming no superiority; and they were a brotherhood bound together by ties of kin. Liberty, equality and fraternity, though never formulated, were cardinal principles of the gens. These facts are material, because the gens was the unit of a social and governmental system, the foundation upon which Indian society was organized. A structure composed of such units would of necessity bear the impress of their character, for as the unit, so the compound. It serves to explain that sense of independence and personal dignity universally an attribute of Indian character." At the time of the discovery the Indians of entire North America were organized in gentes by maternal law. Only "in some tribes, as among the Dakotas, the gentes had fallen out; in others as among the Ojibwas, the Omahas and the Mayas of Yucatan, descent had been changed from the female to the male line." Among many Indian tribes with more than five or six gentes we find three, four or more gentes united into a separate group, called phratry by Morgan in accurate translation of the Indian name by its Greek equivalent. Thus the Senecas have two phratries, the first comprising gentes one to four, the second gentes five to eight. Closer investigation shows that these phratries generally represent the original gentes that formed the tribe in the beginning. For the marriage interdict necessitated the existence of at least two gentes in a tribe in order to realize its separate existence. As the tribe increased, every gens segmented into two or more new gentes, while the original gens comprising all the daughter gentes, lived on in the phratry. Among the Senecas and most of the other Indians "the gentes in the same phratry are brother gentes to each other, and cousin gentes to those of the other phratry"--terms that have a very real and expressive meaning in the American system of kinship, as we have seen. Originally no Seneca was allowed to marry within his phratry, but this custom has long become obsolete and is now confined to the gens. According to the tradition among the Senecas, the bear and the deer were the two original gentes, from which the others were formed by segmentation. After this new institution had become well established it was modified according to circumstances. If certain gentes became extinct, it sometimes happened that by mutual consent the members of one gens were transferred in a body from other phratries. Hence we find the gentes of the same name differently grouped in the phratries of the different tribes. "The phratry, among the Iroquois, was partly for social and partly for religious objects." 1. In the ball game one phratry plays against another. Each one sends its best players, the other members, upon different sides of the field, watch the game and bet against one another on the result. 2. In the tribal council the sachems and chiefs of each phratry are seated opposite one another, every speaker addressing the representatives of each phratry as separate bodies. 3. When a murder had been committed in the tribe, the slayer and the slain belonging to different phratries, the injured gens often appealed to its brother gentes. These held a phratry council which in a body addressed itself to the other phratry, in order to prevail on the latter to assemble in council and effect a condonation of the matter. In this case the phratry re-appears in its original gentile capacity, and with a better prospect of success than the weaker gens, its daughter. 4. At the funeral of prominent persons the opposite phratry prepared the interment and the burial rites, while the phratry of the deceased attended the funeral as mourners. If a sachem died, the opposite phratry notified the central council of the Iroquois that the office of the deceased had become vacant. 5. In electing a sachem the phratry council also came into action. Endorsement by the brother gentes was generally considered a matter of fact, but the gentes of the other phratry might oppose. In such a case the council of this phratry met, and if it maintained its opposition, the election was null and void. 6. Formerly the Iroquois had special religious mysteries, called medicine lodges by the white men. These mysteries were celebrated among the Senecas by two religious societies that had a special form of initiation for new members; each phratry was represented by one of these societies. 7. If, as is almost certain, the four lineages occupying the four quarters of Tlascalá at the time of the conquest were four phratries, then it is proved that the phratries were at the same time military units, as were the Greek phratries and similar sex organizations of the Germans. Each of these four lineages went into battle as a separate group with its special uniform and flag and its own leader. Just as several genres form a phratry so in the classical form several phratries form a tribe. In some cases the middle group, the phratry, is missing in strongly decimated tribes. What constitutes an Indian tribe in America? 1. A distinct territory and a distinct name. Every tribe had a considerable hunting and fishing ground beside the place of its actual settlement. Beyond this territory there was a wide neutral strip of land reaching over to the boundaries of the next tribe; a smaller strip between tribes of related languages, a larger between tribes of foreign languages. This corresponds to the boundary forest of the Germans, the desert created by Caesar's Suevi around their territory, the isârnholt (Danish jarnved, Latin limei Danicus) between Danes and Germans, the sachsen wald (Saxon forest) and the Slavish branibor between Slavs and Germans giving the province of Brandenburg its name. The territory thus surrounded by neutral ground was the collective property of a certain tribe, recognized as such by other tribes and defended against the invasion of others. The disadvantage of undefined boundaries became of practical importance only after the population had increased considerably. The tribal names generally seem to be more the result of chance than of intentional selection. In course of time it frequently happened that a tribe designated a neighboring tribe by another name than that chosen by itself. In this manner the Germans received their first historical name from the Celts. 2. A distinct dialect peculiar to this tribe. As a matter of fact the tribe and the dialect are co-extensive. In America, the formation of new tribes and dialects by segmentation was in progress until quite recently, and doubtless it is still going on. Where two weak tribes amalgamated into one, there it exceptionally happened that two closely related dialects were simultaneously spoken in the same tribe. The average strength of American tribes is less than 2,000 members. The Cherokees, however, number about 26,000, the greatest number of Indians in the United States speaking the same dialect. 3. The right to solemnly invest the sachems and chiefs elected by the gentes, and 4. The right to depose them, even against the will of the gens. As these sachems and chiefs are members of the tribal council, these rights of the tribe explain themselves. Where a league of tribes had been formed and all the tribes were represented in a feudal council, the latter exercised these rights. 5. The possession of common religious conceptions (mythology) and rites. "After the fashion of barbarians the American Indians were a religious people." Their mythology has not yet been critically investigated. They materialized their religious conceptions--spirits of all sorts--in human shapes, but the lower stage of barbarism in which they lived, knows nothing as yet of so-called idols. It is a cult of nature and of the elements, in process of evolution to pantheism. The different tribes had regular festivals with prescribed forms of worship, mainly dances and games. Especially dancing was an essential part of all religious celebrations. Every tribe celebrated by itself. 6. A tribal council for public affairs. It was composed of all the sachems and chiefs of the different gentes, real representatives because they could be deposed at any moment. It deliberated in public, surrounded by the rest of the tribal members, who had a right to take part in the discussions and claim attention. The council decided. As a rule any one present gained a hearing on his demand. The women could also present their views by a speaker of their choice. Among the Iroquois the final resolution had to be passed unanimously, as was also the case in some resolutions of German mark (border) communities. It was the special duty of the tribal council to regulate the relations with foreign tribes. The council received and despatched legations, declared war and made peace. War was carried on principally by volunteers. "Theoretically, each tribe was at war with every other tribe with which it had not formed a treaty of peace." Expeditions against such enemies were generally organized by certain prominent warriors. They started a war dance, and whoever took part in it thereby declared his intention to join the expedition. Ranks were formed and the march began immediately. The defense of the attacked tribal territory was also generally carried on by volunteers. The exodus and the return of such columns was always the occasion of public festivities. The consent of the tribal council for such expeditions was not required, and was neither asked nor given. This corresponds to the private war expeditions of German followers described by Tacitus. Only these German groups of followers had already assumed a more permanent character, forming a standing center organized during peace, around which the other volunteers gathered in case of war. Such war columns were rarely strong in numbers. The most important expeditions of the Indians, even for long distances, were undertaken by insignificant forces. If more than one group joined for a great expedition, every group obeyed its own leader. The uniformity of the campaign plan was secured as well as possible by a council of these leaders. This is the mode of warfare among the Allemani in the fourth century on the Upper Rhine, as described by Ammianus Marcellinus. 7. In some tribes we find a head chief, whose power, however, is limited. He is one of the sachems who has to take provisional measures in cases requiring immediate action, until the council can assemble and decide. He represents a feeble, but generally undeveloped prototype of an official with executive power. The latter, as we shall see, developed in most cases out of the highest war chief. The great majority of American Indians did not go beyond the league of tribes. With a few tribes of small membership, separated by wide boundary tracts, weakened by unceasing warfare, they occupied an immense territory. Leagues were now and then formed by kindred tribes as the result of momentary necessity and dissolved again under more favorable conditions. But in certain districts, tribes of the same kin had again found their way out of disbandment into permanent federations, making the first step towards the formation of nations. In the United States we find the highest form of such a league among the Iroquois. Emigrating from their settlements west of the Mississippi, where they probably formed a branch of the great Dakota family, they settled at last after long wanderings in the present State of New York. They had five tribes: Senecas, Cayugas, Onondagas, Oneidas and Mohawks. They lived on fish, venison, and the products of rough gardening, inhabiting villages protected by stockades. Their number never exceeded 20,000, and certain gentes were common to all five tribes. They spoke closely related dialects of the same language and occupied territories contiguous to one another. As this land was won by conquest, it was natural for these tribes to stand together against the expelled former inhabitants. This led, not later than the beginning of the fifteenth century, to a regular "eternal league," a sworn alliance that immediately assumed an aggressive character, relying on its newly won strength. About 1675, at the summit of its power, it had conquered large districts round about and partly expelled the inhabitants, partly made them tributary. The Iroquois League represented the most advanced social organization attained by Indians that had not passed the lower stage of barbarism. This excludes only the Mexicans, New Mexicans and Peruvians. The fundamental provisions of the league were: 1. Eternal federation of the five consanguineous tribes on the basis of perfect equality and independence in all internal tribal matters. This consanguinity formed the true fundament of the league. Three of these tribes, called father tribes, were brothers to one another; the other two, also mutual brothers, were called son tribes. The three oldest gentes were represented by living members in all five tribes, and these members were all regarded as brothers. Three other gentes were still alive in three tribes, and all of their members called one another brothers. The common language, only modified by variations of dialect, was the expression and proof of their common descent. 2. The official organ of the league was a federal council of fifty sachems, all equal in rank and prominence. This council had the supreme decision in all federal matters. 3. On founding this league the fifty sachems had been assigned to the different tribes and gentes as holders of new offices created especially for federal purposes. Vacancies were filled by new elections in the gens, and the holders of these offices could be deposed at will. But the right of installation belonged to the federal council. 4. These federal sachems were at the same time sachems of their tribe and had a seat and a vote in the tribal council. 5. All decisions of the federal council had to be unanimous. 6. The votes were cast by tribes, so that every tribe and the council members of each tribe had to vote together in order to adopt a final resolution. 7. Any one of the five tribes could convoke the federal council, but the council could not convene itself. 8. Federal meetings were held publicly in the presence of the assembled people. Every Iroquois could have the word, but the final decision rested with the council. 9. The league had no official head, no executive chief. 10. It had, however, two high chiefs of war, both with equal functions and power (the two "kings" of Sparta, the two consuls of Rome). This was the whole constitution, under which the Iroquois lived over four hundred years and still live. I have described it more fully after Morgan, because we have here an opportunity for studying the organization of a society that does not yet know a state. The state presupposes a public power of coërcion separated from the aggregate body of its members. Maurer, with correct intuition, recognized the constitution of the German Mark as a purely social institution, essentially different from that of a state, though furnishing the fundament on which a state constitution could be erected later on. Hence in all of his writings, he traced the gradual rise of the public power of coërcion from and by the side of primordial constitutions of marks, villages, farms and towns. The North American Indians show how an originally united tribe gradually spreads over an immense continent; how tribes by segmentation become nations, whole groups of tribes; how languages change so that they not only become unintelligible to one another, but also lose every trace of former unity; how at the same time one gens splits up into several gentes, how the old mother gentes are preserved in the phratries and how the names of these oldest gentes still remain the same in widely distant and long separated tribes. Wolf and bear still are gentile names in a majority of all Indian tribes. And the above named constitution is essentially applicable to all of them, except that many did not reach the point of forming leagues of related tribes. But once the gens was given as a social unit, we also see how the whole constitution of gentes, phratries and tribes developed with almost unavoidable necessity--because naturally--from the gens. All three of them are groups of differentiated consanguine relations. Each is complete in itself, arranges its own local affairs and supplements the other groups. And the cycle of functions performed by them includes the aggregate of the public affairs of men in the lower stage of barbarism. Wherever we find the gens as the social unit of a nation, we are justified in searching for a tribal organization similar to the one described above. And whenever sufficient material is at hand, as in Greek and Roman history, there we shall not only find such an organization, but we may also be assured, that the comparison with the American sex organizations will assist us in solving the most perplexing doubts and riddles in places where the material forsakes us. How wonderful this gentile constitution is in all its natural simplicity! No soldiers, gendarmes and policemen, no nobility, kings, regents, prefects or judges, no prisons, no lawsuits, and still affairs run smoothly. All quarrels and disputes are settled by the entire community involved in them, either the gens or the tribe or the various gentes among themselves. Only in very rare cases the blood revenge is threatened as an extreme measure. Our capital punishment is simply a civilized form of it, afflicted with all the advantages and drawbacks of civilization. Not a vestige of our cumbersome and intricate system of administration is needed, although there are more public affairs to be settled than nowadays: the communistic household is shared by a number of families, the land belongs to the tribe, only the gardens are temporarily assigned to the households. The parties involved in a question settle it and in most cases the hundred-year-old traditions have settled everything beforehand. There cannot be any poor and destitute--the communistic households and the gentes know their duties toward the aged, sick and disabled. All are free and equal--the women included. There is no room yet for slaves, nor for the subjugation of foreign tribes. When about 1651 the Iroquois had vanquished the Eries and the "Neutral Nation," they offered to adopt them into the league on equal terms. Only when the vanquished declined this offer they were driven out of their territory. What splendid men and women were produced by such a society! All the white men who came into contact with unspoiled Indians admired the personal dignity, straightforwardness, strength of character and bravery of these barbarians. We lately received proofs of such bravery in Africa. A few years ago the Zulus, and some months ago the Nubians, both of which tribes still retain the gentile organization, did what no European army can do. Armed only with lances and spears, without any firearms, they advanced under a hail of bullets from breechloaders up to the bayonets of the English infantry--the best of the world for fighting in closed ranks--and threw them into confusion more than once, yea, even forced them to retreat in spite of the immense disparity of weapons, and in spite of the fact that they have no military service and don't know anything about drill. How enduring and able they are, is proved by the complaints of the English who admit that a Kaffir can cover a longer distance in twenty-four hours than a horse. The smallest muscle springs forth, hard and tough like a whiplash, says an English painter. Such was human society and its members, before the division into classes had taken place. And a comparison of that social condition with the condition of the overwhelming majority of present day society shows the enormous chasm that separates our proletarian and small farmer from the free gentile of old. That is one side of the question. We must not overlook, however, that this organization was doomed. It did not pass beyond the tribe. The league of tribes marked the beginning of its downfall, as we shall see, and as the attempts of the Iroquois at subjugating others showed. Whatever went beyond the tribe, went outside of gentilism. Where no direct peace treaty existed, there war reigned from tribe to tribe. And this war was carried on with the particular cruelty that distinguishes man from other animals, and that was modified later on simply by self-interest. The gentile constitution in its most flourishing time, such as we saw it in America, presupposed a very undeveloped state of production, hence a population thinly scattered over a wide area. Man was almost completely dominated by nature, a strange and incomprehensible riddle to him. His simple religious conceptions clearly reflect this. The tribe remained the boundary line for man, as well in regard to himself as to strangers outside. The gens, the tribe and their institutions were holy and inviolate. They were a superior power instituted by nature, and the feelings, thoughts and actions of the individual remained unconditionally subject to them. Commanding as the people of this epoch appear to us, nothing distinguishes one from another. They are still attached, as Marx has it, to the navel string of the primordial community. The power of these natural and spontaneous communities had to be broken, and it was. But it was done by influences that from the very beginning bear the mark of degradation, of a downfall from the simple moral grandeur of the old gentile society. The new system of classes is inaugurated by the meanest impulses: vulgar covetousness, brutal lust, sordid avarice, selfish robbery of common wealth. The old gentile society without classes is undermined and brought to fall by the most contemptible means: theft, violence, cunning, treason. And during all the thousands of years of its existence, the new society has never been anything else but the development of the small minority at the expense of the exploited and oppressed majority. More than ever this is true at present. CHAPTER IV. THE GRECIAN GENS. Greeks, Pelasgians and other nations of the same tribal origin were constituted since prehistoric times on the same systematic plan as the Americans: gens, phratry, tribe, league of tribes. The phratry might be missing, as e. g. among the Dorians; the league of tribes might not be fully developed in every case; but the gens was everywhere the unit. At the time of their entrance into history, the Greeks were on the threshold of civilization. Two full periods of evolution are stretching between the Greeks and the above named American tribes. The Greeks of the heroic age are by so much ahead of the Iroquois. For this reason the Grecian gens no longer retains the archaic character of the Iroquois gens. The stamp of group marriage is becoming rather blurred. Maternal law had given way to paternal lineage. Rising private property had thus made its first opening in the gentile constitution. A second opening naturally followed the first: Paternal law being now in force, the fortune of a wealthy heiress would have fallen to her husband in the case of her marriage. That would have meant the transfer of her wealth from her own gens to that of her husband. In order to avoid this, the fundament of gentile law was shattered. In such a case, the girl was not only permitted, but obliged to intermarry within the gens, in order to retain the wealth in the latter. According to Grote's History of Greece, the gens of Attica was held together by the following bonds: 1. Common religious rites and priests installed exclusively in honor of a certain divinity, the alleged gentile ancestor, who was designated by a special by-name in this capacity. 2. A common burial ground. (See Demosthenes' Eubulides.) 3. Right of mutual inheritance. 4. Obligation to mutually help, protect and assist one another in case of violence. 5. Mutual right and duty to intermarry in the gens in certain cases, especially for orphaned girls or heiresses. 6. Possession of common property, at least in some cases, and an archon (supervisor) and treasurer elected for this special case. The phratry united several gentes, but rather loosely. Still we find in it similar rights and duties, especially common religious rites and the right of avenging the death of a phrator. Again, all the phratries of a tribe had certain religious festivals in common that recurred at regular intervals and were celebrated under the guidance of a phylobasileus (tribal head) selected from the ranks of the nobles (eupatrides). So far Grote. And Marx adds: "The savage (e. g. the Iroquois) is still plainly visible in the Grecian gens." On further investigation we find additional proofs of this. For the Grecian gens has also the following attributes: 7. Paternal Lineage. 8. Prohibition of intermarrying in the gens except in the case of heiresses. This exception formulated as a law clearly proves the validity of the old rule. This is further substantiated by the universally accepted custom that a woman in marrying renounced the religious rites of her gens and accepted those of her husband's gens. She was also registered in his phratry. According to this custom and to a famous quotation in Dikaearchos, marriage outside of the gens was the rule. Becker in "Charikles" directly assumes that nobody was permitted to intermarry in the gens. 9. The right to adopt strangers in the gens. It was exercised by adoption into the family under public formalities; but it was used sparingly. 10. The right to elect and depose the archons. We know that every gens had its archon. As to the heredity of the office, there is no reliable information. Until the end of barbarism, the probability is always against strict heredity. For it is absolutely incompatible with conditions where rich and poor had perfectly equal rights in the gens. Not alone Grote, but also Niebuhr, Mommsen and all other historians of classical antiquity, were foiled by the gens. Though they chronicled many of its distinguishing marks correctly, still they always regarded it as a group of families and thus prevented their understanding the nature and origin of gentes. Under the gentile constitution, the family never was a unit of organization, nor could it be so, because man and wife necessarily belonged to two different gentes. The gens was wholly comprised in the phratry, the phratry in the tribe. But the family belonged half to the gens of the man, and half to that of the woman. Nor does the state recognize the family in public law. To this day, the family has only a place in private law. Yet all historical records take their departure from the absurd supposition, which was considered almost inviolate during the eighteenth century, that the monogamous family, an institution scarcely older than civilization, is the nucleus around which society and state gradually crystallized. "Mr. Grote will also please note," throws in Marx, "that the gentes, which the Greeks traced to their mythologies, are older than the mythologies. The latter together with their gods and demi-gods were created by the gentes." Grote is quoted with preference by Morgan as a prominent and quite trustworthy witness. He relates that every Attic gens had a name derived from its alleged ancestor; that before Solon's time, and even after, it was customary for the gentiles (gennêtes) to inherit the fortunes of their intestate deceased; and that in case of murder first the relatives of the victim had the duty and the right to prosecute the criminal, after them the gentiles and finally the phrators. "Whatever we may learn about the oldest Attic laws is founded on the organization in gentes and phratries." The descent of the gentes from common ancestors has caused the "schoolbred philistines," as Marx has it, much worry. Representing this descent as purely mythical, they are at a loss to explain how the gentes developed out of independent and wholly unrelated families. But this explanation must be given, if they wish to explain the existence of the gentes. They then turn around in a circle of meaningless gibberish and do not get beyond the phrase: the pedigree is indeed a fable, but the gens is a reality. Grote finally winds up--the parenthetical remarks are by Marx: "We rarely hear about this pedigree, because it is used in public only on certain very festive occasions. But the less prominent gentes had their common religious rites (very peculiar, Mr. Grote!) and their common superhuman ancestor and pedigree just like the more prominent gentes (how very peculiar this, Mr. Grote, in less prominent gentes!); and the ground plan and the ideal fundament (my dear sir! Not ideal, but carnal, anglice "fleshly") was the same in all of them." Marx sums up Morgan's reply to this as follows: "The system of consanguinity corresponding to the archaic form of the gens--which the Greeks once possessed like other mortals--preserved the knowledge of the mutual relation of all members of the gens. They learned this important fact by practice from early childhood. With the advent of the monogamous family this was gradually forgotten. The gentile name created a pedigree by the side of which that of the monogamous family seemed insignificant. This name had now the function of preserving the memory of the common descent of its bearers. But the pedigree of the gens went so far back that the gentiles could no longer actually ascertain their mutual kinship, except in a limited number of more recent common ancestors. The name itself was the proof of a common descent and sufficed always except in cases of adoption. To actually dispute all kinship between gentiles after the manner of Grote and Niebuhr, who thus transform the gens into a purely hypothetical and fictitious creation of the brain, is indeed worthy of "ideal" scientists, that is book worms. Because the relation of the generations, especially on the advent of monogamy, is removed to the far distance, and the reality of the past seems reflected in phantastic imaginations, therefore the brave old philistines concluded and conclude that the imaginary pedigree created real gentes!" The phratry was, as among the Americans, a mother-gens comprising several daughter gentes, and often traced them all to the same ancestor. According to Grote "all contemporaneous members of the phratry of Hekataeos were descendants in the sixteenth degree of one and the same divine ancestor." All the gentes of this phratry were therefore literally brother gentes. The phratry is mentioned by Homer as a military unit in that famous passage where Nestor advises Agamemnon: "Arrange the men by phratries and tribes so that phratry may assist phratry, and tribe the tribe." The phratry has the right and the duty to prosecute the death of a phrator, hence in former times the duty of blood revenge. It has, furthermore, common religious rites and festivals. As a matter of fact, the development of the entire Grecian mythology from the traditional old Aryan cult of nature was essentially due to the gentes and phratries and took place within them. The phratry had an official head (phratriarchos) and also, according to De Coulanges, meetings and binding resolutions, a jurisdiction and administration. Even the state of a later period, while ignoring the gens, left certain public functions to the phratry. The tribe consisted of several kindred phratries. In Attica there were four tribes of three phratries each; the number of gentes in each phratry was thirty. Such an accurate division of groups reveals the fact of a conscious and well-planned interference with the natural order. How, when and why this was done is not disclosed by Grecian history. The historical memory of the Greeks themselves does not reach beyond the heroic age. Closely packed in a comparatively small territory as the Greeks were, their dialectic differences were less conspicuous than those developed in the wide American forests. Yet even here we find only tribes of the same main dialect united in a larger organization. Little Attica had its own dialect which later on became the prevailing language in Grecian prose. In the epics of Homer we generally find the Greek tribes combined into small nations, but so that their gentes, phratries and tribes retained their full independence. They already lived in towns fortified by walls. The population increased with the growth of the herds, with agriculture and the beginnings of the handicrafts. At the same time the differences in wealth became more marked and gave rise to an aristocratic element within the old primordial democracy. The individual little nations carried on an unceasing warfare for the possession of the best land and also for the sake of looting. Slavery of the prisoners of war was already well established. The constitution of these tribes and nations was as follows: 1. A permanent authority was the council (bule), originally composed of the gentile archons, but later on, when their number became too great, recruited by selection in such a way that the aristocratic element was developed and strengthened. Dionysios openly speaks of the council at the time of the heroes as being composed of nobles (kratistoi). The council had the final decision in all important matters. In Aeschylos, e. g. the council of Thebes decides that the body of Eteokles be buried with full honors, the body of Polynikes, however, thrown out to be devoured by the dogs. With the rise of the state this council was transformed into the senate. 2. The public meeting (agora). We saw how the Iroquois, men and women, attended the council meetings, taking an orderly part in the discussions and influencing them. Among the Homeric Greeks, this attendance had developed to a complete public meeting. This was also the case with the Germans of the archaic period. The meeting was called by the council. Every man could demand the word. The final vote was taken by hand raising (Aeschylos in "The Suppliants," 607), or by acclamation. The decision of the meeting was supreme and final. "Whenever a matter is discussed," says Schoemann in "Antiquities of Greece," "which requires the participation of the people for its execution, Homer does not indicate any means by which the people could be forced to it against their will." It is evident that at a time when every able-bodied member of the tribe was a warrior, there existed as yet no public power apart from the people that might have been used against them. The primordial democracy was still in full force, and by this standard the influence and position of the council and of the basileus must be judged. 3. The military chief (basileus). Marx makes the following comment: "The European scientists, mostly born servants of princes, represent the basileus as a monarch in the modern sense. The Yankee republican Morgan objects to this. Very ironically but truthfully he says of the oily Gladstone and his "Juventus Mundi": 'Mr. Gladstone, who presents to his readers the Grecian chiefs of the heroic age as kings and princes, with the superadded qualities of gentlemen, is forced to admit that, on the whole we seem to have the custom or law of primogeniture sufficiently, but not oversharply defined.' As a matter of fact, Mr. Gladstone himself must have perceived that a primogeniture resting on a clause of 'sufficient but not oversharp' definition is as bad as none at all." We saw how the law of heredity was applied to the offices of sachems and chiefs among the Iroquois and other Indians. All offices were subject to the vote of the gentiles and for this reason hereditary in the gens. A vacancy was filled preferably by the next gentile relative--the brother or the sister's son--unless good reasons existed for passing him. That in Greece, under paternal law, the office of basileus was generally transmitted to the son or one of the sons, indicates only that the probability of succession by public election was in favor of the sons. It implies by no means a legal succession without a vote of the people. We here perceive simply the first rudiments of segregated families of aristocrats among Iroquois and Greeks, which led to a hereditary leadership or monarchy in Greece. Hence the facts are in favor of the opinion that among Greeks the basileus was either elected by the people or at last was subject to the indorsement of their appointed organs, the council or agora, as was the case with the Roman king (rex). In the Iliad the ruler of men, Agamemnon, does not appear as the supreme king of the Greeks, but as general in chief of a federal army besieging a city. And when dissensions had broken out among the Greeks, it is this quality which Odysseus points out in a famous passage: "Evil is the rule of the many; let one be the ruler, one the chief" (to which the popular verse about the scepter was added later on). Odysseus does not lecture on the form of government, but demands obedience to the general in chief. Considering that the Greeks before Troy appear only in the character of an army, the proceedings of the agora are sufficiently democratic. In referring to presents, that is the division of the spoils, Achilles always leaves the division, not to Agamemnon or some other basileus, but to the "sons of the Achaeans," the people. The attributes, descendant of Zeus, bred by Zeus, do not prove anything, because every gens is descended from some god--the gens of the leader of the tribe from a "prominent" god, in this case Zeus. Even those who are without personal freedom, as the swineherd Eumaeos and others, are "divine" (dioi or theioi), even in the Odyssey, which belongs to a much later period than the Iliad. In the same Odyssey, the name of "heros" is given to the herald Mulios as well as to the blind bard Demodokos. In short, the word "basileia," with which the Greek writers designate the so-called monarchy of Homer (because the military leadership is its distinguishing mark, by the side of which the council and the agorâ are existing), means simply--military democracy (Marx). The basileus had also sacerdotal and judiciary functions beside those of a military leader. The judiciary functions are not clearly defined, but the functions of priesthood are due to his position of chief representative of the tribe or of the league of tribes. There is never any mention of civil, administrative functions. But it seems that he was ex-officio a member of the council. The translation of basileus by king is etymologically quite correct, because king (Kuning) is derived from Kuni, Künne, and signifies chief of a gens. But the modern meaning of the word king in no way designates the functions of the Grecian basileus. Thucydides expressly refers to the old basileia as patrikê, that is "derived from the gens," and states that it had well defined functions. And Aristotle says that the basileia of heroic times was a leadership of free men and that the basileus was a military chief, a judge and a high priest. Hence the basileus had no governmental power in a modern sense.[24] In the Grecian constitution of heroic times, then, we still find the old gentilism fully alive, but we also perceive the beginnings of the elements that undermine it; paternal law and inheritance of property by the father's children, favoring accumulation of wealth in the family and giving to the latter a power apart from the gens; influence of the difference of wealth on the constitution by the formation of the first rudiments of hereditary nobility and monarchy; slavery, first limited to prisoners of war, but already paving the way to the enslavement of tribal and gentile associates; degeneration of the old feuds between tribes a regular mode of existing by systematic plundering on land and sea for the purpose of acquiring cattle, slaves, and treasures. In short, wealth is praised and respected as the highest treasure, and the old gentile institutions are abused in order to justify the forcible robbery of wealth. Only one thing was missing: an institution that not only secured the newly acquired property of private individuals against the communistic traditions of the gens, that not only declared as sacred the formerly so despised private property and represented the protection of this sacred property as the highest purpose of human society, but that also stamped the gradually developing new forms of acquiring property, of constantly increasing wealth, with the universal sanction of society. An institution that lent the character of perpetuity not only to the newly rising division into classes, but also to the right of the possessing classes to exploit and rule the non-possessing classes. And this institution was found. The state arose. FOOTNOTE: [24] Author's note. Just as the Grecian basileus, so the Aztec military chief was misrepresented as a modern prince. Morgan was the first to submit to historical criticism the reports of the Spaniards who first misapprehended and exaggerated, and later on consciously misrepresented the functions of this office. He showed that the Mexicans were in the middle stage of barbarism, but on a higher plane than the New Mexican Pueblo Indians, and that their constitution, so far as the garbled accounts show, corresponded to this stage: a league of three tribes which had made a number of others tributary and was administered by a federal council and a federal chief of war, whom the Spaniards construed into an "emperor." CHAPTER V. ORIGIN OF THE ATTIC STATE. How the state gradually developed by partly transforming the organs of the gentile constitution, partly replacing them by new organs and finally installing real state authorities; how the place of the nation in arms defending itself through its gentes, phratries and tribes, was taken by an armed public power of coërcion in the hands of these authorities and available against the mass of the people; nowhere can we observe the first act of this drama so well as in ancient Athens. The essential stages of the various transformations are outlined by Morgan, but the analysis of the economic causes producing them is largely added by myself. In the heroic period, the four tribes of the Athenians were still installed in separate parts of Attica. Even the twelve phratries composing them seem to have had separate seats in the twelve different towns of Cecrops. The constitution was in harmony with the period: a public meeting (agorâ), a council (bûlê) and a basileus. As far back as we can trace written history we find the land divided up and in the possession of private individuals. For during the last period of the higher stage of barbarism the production of commodities and the resulting trade had well advanced. Grain, wine and oil were staple articles. The sea trade on the Aegean Sea drifted more and more out of the hands of the Phoenicians into those of the Athenians. By the purchase and sale of land, by continued division of labor between agriculture and industry, trade and navigation, the members of gentes, phratries and tribes very soon intermingled. The districts of the phratry and the tribe received inhabitants who did not belong to these bodies and, therefore, were strangers in their own homes, although they were countrymen. For during times of peace, every phratry and every tribe administered its own affairs without consulting the council of Athens or the basileus. But inhabitants not belonging to the phratry or the tribe could not take part in the administration of these bodies. Thus the well-regulated functions of the gentile organs became so disarranged that relief was already needed during the heroic period. A constitution attributed to Theseus was introduced. The main feature of this change was the institution of central administration in Athens. A part of the affairs that had so long been conducted autonomously by the tribes was declared collective business and transferred to a general council in Athens. This step of the Athenians went farther than any ever taken by the nations of America. For the simple federation of autonomous tribes was now replaced by the conglomeration of all tribes into one single body. The next result was a common Athenian law, standing above the legal traditions of the tribes and gentes. It bestowed on the citizens of Athens certain privileges and legal protection, even in a territory that did not belong to their tribe. This meant another blow to the gentile constitution; for it opened the way to the admission of citizens who were not members of any Attic tribe and stood entirely outside of the Athenian gentile constitution. A second institution attributed to Theseus was the division of the entire nation into three classes regardless of the gentes, phratries and tribes: eupatrides or nobles, geomoroì or farmers, and demiurgoi or tradesmen. The exclusive privilege of the nobles to fill the offices was included in this innovation. Apart from this privilege the new division remained ineffective, as it did not create any legal distinctions between the classes. But it is important, because it shows us the new social elements that had developed in secret. It shows that the habitual holding of gentile offices by certain families had already developed into a practically uncontested privilege; that these families, already powerful through their wealth, began to combine outside of their gentes into a privileged class; and that the just arising state sanctioned this assumption. It shows furthermore that the division of labor between farmers and tradesmen had grown strong enough to contest the supremacy of the old gentile and tribal division of society. And finally it proclaims the irreconcilable opposition of gentile society to the state. The first attempt to form a state broke up the gentes by dividing their members against one another and opposing a privileged class to a class of disowned belonging to two different branches of production. The ensuing political history of Athens up to the time of Solon is only incompletely known. The office of basileus became obsolete. Archons elected from the ranks of the nobility occupied the leading position in the state. The power of the nobility increased continually, until it became unbearable about the year 600 before Christ. The principal means for stifling the liberty of the people were--money and usury. The main seat of the nobility was in and around Athens. There the sea trade and now and then a little convenient piracy enriched them and concentrated the money into their hands. From this point the gradually arising money power penetrated like corrugating acid into the traditional modes of rural existence founded on natural economy. The gentile constitution is absolutely irreconcilable with money rule. The ruin of the Attic farmers coïncided with the loosening of the old gentile bonds that protected them. The debtor's receipt and the pawning of the property--for the mortgage was also invented by the Athenians--cared neither for the gens nor for the phratry. But the old gentile constitution knew nothing of money, advance and debt. Hence the ever more virulently spreading money rule of the nobility developed a new legal custom, securing the creditor against the debtor and sanctioning the exploitation of the small farmer by the wealthy. All the rural districts of Attica were crowded with mortgage columns bearing the legend that the lot on which they stood was mortgaged to such and such for so much. The fields that were not so designated had for the most part been sold on account of overdue mortgages or interest and transferred to the aristocratic usurers. The farmer could thank his stars, if he was granted permission to live as a tenant on one-sixth of the product of his labor and to pay five-sixths to his new master in the form of rent. Worse still, if the sale of the lot did not bring sufficient returns to cover the debt, or if such a debt had been contracted without a lien, then the debtor had to sell his children into slavery abroad in order to satisfy the claim of the creditor. The sale of the children by the father--that was the first fruit of paternal law and monogamy! And if that did not satisfy the bloodsuckers, they could sell the debtor himself into slavery. Such was the pleasant dawn of civilization among the people of Attica. Formerly, while the condition of the people was in keeping with gentile traditions, a similar downfall would have been impossible. But here it had come about, nobody knew how. Let us return for a moment to the Iroquois. The state of things that had imposed itself on the Athenians almost without their doing, so to say, and assuredly against their will, was inconceivable among the Indians. There the ever unchanging mode of production could at no time generate such conflicts as a distinction between rich and poor, exploiters and exploited, caused by external conditions. The Iroquois were far from controlling the forces of nature, but within the limits drawn for them by nature they dominated their own production. Apart from a failure of the crops in their little gardens, the exhaustion of the fish supply in their lakes and rivers or of the game stock in their forests, they always knew what would be the outcome of their mode of gaining a living. A more or less abundant supply of food, that would come of it. But the outcome could never be any unpremeditated social upheavals, breaking of gentile bonds or division of the gentiles against one another by conflicting class interests. Production was carried on in the most limited manner; but--the producers controlled their own product. This immense advantage of barbarian production was lost in the transition to civilization. To win it back on the basis of man's present gigantic control of nature and of the free association rendered possible by it, that will be the task of the next generations. Not so among the Greeks. The advent of private property in herds of cattle and articles of luxury led to an exchange between individuals, to a transformation of products into commodities. Here is the root of the entire revolution that followed. When the producers did no longer consume their own product, but released their hold of it in exchange for another's product, then they lost the control of it. They did not know any more what became of it. There was a possibility that the product might be turned against the producers for the purpose of exploiting and oppressing them. No society can, therefore, retain for any length of time the control of its own production and of the social effects of the mode of production, unless it abolishes exchange between individuals. How rapidly after the establishment of individual exchange and after the transformation of products into commodities the product manifests its rule over the producer, the Athenians were soon to learn. Along with the production of marketable commodities came the tilling of the soil by individual cultivators for their own account, soon followed by individual ownership of the land. Along came also the money, that general commodity for which all others could be exchanged. But when men invented money they little suspected that they were creating a new social power, that one universal power before which the whole of society must bow down. It was this new power, suddenly sprung into existence without the forethought and intention of its own creators, that vented its rule on the Athenians with the full brutality of youth. What was to be done? The old gentile organization had not only proved impotent against the triumphant march of money: it was also absolutely incapable of containing within its confines any such thing as money, creditors, debtors and forcible collection of debts. But the new social power was upon them and neither pious wishes nor a longing for the return of the good old times could drive money and usury from the face of the earth. Moreover, gentile constitution had suffered a number of minor defeats. The indiscriminate mingling of the gentiles and phrators in the whole of Attica, and especially in Athens, had assumed larger proportions from generation to generation. Still even now a citizen of Athens was not allowed to sell his residence outside of his gens, although he could do so with plots of land. The division of labor between the different branches of production--agriculture, trades, numberless specialties within the trades, commerce, navigation, etc.--had developed more fully with the progress of industry and traffic. The population was now divided according to occupations into rather well defined groups, everyone of which had separate interests not guarded by the gens or phratry and therefore necessitating the creation of new offices. The number of slaves had increased considerably and must have surpassed by far that of the free Athenians even at this early stage. Gentile society originally knew no slavery and was, therefore, ignorant of any means to hold this mass of bondsmen in check. And finally, commerce had attracted a great many strangers who settled in Athens for the sake of the easier living it afforded. According to the old constitution, the strangers had neither civil rights nor the protection of the law. Though tacitly admitted by tradition, they remained a disturbing and foreign element. In short, gentile constitution approached its doom. Society was daily growing more and more beyond it. It was powerless to stop or allay even the most distressing evils that had grown under its very eyes. But in the meantime the state had secretly developed. The new groups formed by division of labor, first between city and country, then between the various branches of city industry, had created new organs for the care of their interests. Public offices of every description had been instituted. And above all the young state needed its own fighting forces. Among the seafaring Athenians this had to be at first only a navy, for occasional short expeditions and the protection of the merchant vessels. At some uncertain time before Solon, the naukrariai were instituted, little territorial districts, twelve in each tribe. Every naukraria had to furnish, equip and man a war vessel and to detail two horsemen. This arrangement was a twofold attack on the gentile constitution. In the first place it created a public power of coërcion that did no longer absolutely coincide with the entirety of the armed nation. In the second place it was the first division of the people for public purposes, not by groups of kinship, but by local residence. We shall soon see what that signified. As the gentile constitution could not come to the assistance of the exploited people, they could look only to the rising state. And the state brought help in the form of the constitution of Solon. At the same time it added to its own strength at the expense of the old constitution. Solon opened the series of so-called political revolutions by an infringement on private property. We pass over the means by which this reform was accomplished in the year 594 B. C. or thereabout. Ever since, all revolutions have been revolutions for the protection of one kind of property against another kind of property. They cannot protect one kind without violating another. In the great French revolution the feudal property was sacrificed for the sake of saving bourgeois property. In Solon's revolution, the property of the creditors had to make concessions to the property of the debtors. The debts were simply declared illegal. We are not acquainted with the accurate details, but Solon boasts in his poëms that he removed the mortgage columns from the indented lots and enabled all who had fled or been sold abroad for debts to return home. This was only feasible by an open violation of private property. And indeed, all so-called political revolutions were started for the protection of one kind of property by the confiscation, also called theft, of another kind of property. It is absolutely true that for more than 2,500 years private property could only be protected by the violation of private property. But now a way had to be found to avoid the return of such an enslavement of the free Athenians. This was first attempted by general measures, e. g., the prohibition of contracts giving the person of the debtor in lien. Furthermore a maximum limit was fixed for the amount of land any one individual could own, in order to keep the craving of the nobility for the land of the farmers within reasonable bounds. Constitutional amendments were next in order. The following deserve special consideration: The council was increased to four hundred members, one hundred from each tribe. Here, then, the tribe still served as a basis. But this was the only remnant of the old constitution that was transferred to the new body politic. For otherwise Solon divided the citizens into four classes according to their property in land and its yield. Five hundred, three hundred and one hundred and fifty medimnoi of grain (1 medimnos equals 1.16 bushels) were the minimum yields of the first three classes. Whoever had less land or none at all belonged to the fourth class. Only members of the first three classes could hold office; the highest offices were filled by the first class. The fourth class had only the right to speak and vote in the public council. But here all officials were elected, here they had to give account, here all the laws were made, and here the fourth class was in the majority. The aristocratic privileges were partly renewed in the form of privileges of wealth, but the people retained the decisive power. The four classes also formed the basis for the reorganization of the fighting forces. The first two classes furnished the horsemen; the third had to serve as heavy infantry; the fourth was employed as light unarmored infantry and had to man the navy. Probably the last class also received wages in this case. An entirely new element is thus introduced into the constitution: private property. The rights and duties of the citizens are graduated according to their property in land. Wherever the classification by property gains ground, there the old groups of blood relationship give way. Gentile constitution has suffered another defeat. However, the gradation of political rights according to private property was not one of those institutions without which a state cannot exist. It may have been ever so important in the constitutional development of some states. Still a good many others, and the most completely developed at that, had no need of it. Even in Athens it played only a passing role. Since the time of Aristides, all offices were open to all the citizens. During the next eighty years the Athenian society gradually drifted into the course on which it further developed in the following centuries. The outrageous land speculation of the time before Solon had been fettered, likewise the excessive concentration of property in land. Commerce, trades and artisan handicrafts, which were carried on in an ever larger scale as slave labor increased, became the ruling factors in gaining a living. Public enlightenment advanced. Instead of exploiting their own fellow citizens in the old brutal style, the Athenians now exploited mainly the slaves and the customers outside. Movable property, wealth in money, slaves and ships, increased more and more. But instead of being a simple means for the purchase of land, as in the old stupid times, it had now become an end in itself. The new class of industrial and commercial owners of wealth now waged a victorious competition against the old nobility. The remnants of the old gentile constitution lost their last hold. The gentes, phratries and tribes, the members of which now were dispersed all over Attica and completely intermixed, had thus become unavailable as political groups. A great many citizens of Athens did not belong to any gens. They were immigrants who had been adopted into citizenship, but not into any of the old groups of kinship. Besides, there was a steadily increasing number of foreign immigrants who were only protected by traditional sufferance. Meanwhile the struggles of the parties proceeded. The nobility tried to regain their former privileges and for a short time recovered their supremacy, until the revolution of Kleisthenes (509 B. C.) brought their final downfall and completed the ruin of gentile law. In his new constitution, Kleisthenes ignored the four old tribes founded on the gentes and phratries. Their place was taken by an entirely new organization based on the recently attempted division of the citizens into naukrariai according to residence. No longer was membership in a group of kindred the dominant fact, but simply local residence. Not the nation, but the territory was now divided; the inhabitants became mere political fixtures of the territory. The whole of Attica was divided into one hundred communal districts, so-called demoi, every one of which was autonomous. The citizens living in a demos (demotoi) elected their official head (demarchos), treasurer and thirty judges with jurisdiction in minor cases. They also received their own temple and divine guardian or heros, whose priest they elected. The control of the demos was in the hands of the council of demotoì. This is, as Morgan correctly remarks, the prototype of the autonomous American township. The modern state in its highest development ended in the same unit with which the rising state began its career in Athens. Ten of these units (demoi) formed a tribe, which, however, was now designated as local tribe in order to distinguish it from the old sex tribe. The local tribe was not only an autonomous political, but also a military group. It elected the phylarchos or tribal head who commanded the horsemen, the taxiarchos commanding the infantry and the strategic leader, who was in command of the entire contingent raised in the tribal territory by conscription. The local tribe furthermore furnished, equipped and fully manned five war vessels. It was designated by the name of the Attic hero who was its guardian deity. It elected fifty councilmen into the council of Athens. Thus we arrive at the Athenian state, governed by a council of five hundred elected by and representing the ten tribes and subject to the vote of the public meeting, where every citizen could enter and vote. Archons and other officials attended to the different departments of administration and justice. By this new constitution and by the admission of a large number of aliens, partly freed slaves, partly immigrants, the organs of gentile constitution were displaced in public affairs. They became mere private and religious clubs. But their moral influence, the traditional conceptions and views of the old gentile period, survived for a long time and expired only gradually. This was evident in another state institution. We have seen that an essential mark of the state consists in a public power of coërcion divorced from the mass of the people. Athens possessed at that time only a militia and a navy equipped and manned directly by the people. These afforded protection against external enemies and held the slaves in check, who at that time already made up the large majority of the population. For the citizens, this coërcive power at first only existed in the shape of the police, which is as old as the state. The innocent Frenchmen of the 18th century, therefore, had the habit of speaking not of civilized, but of policed nations (nations policées). The Athenians, then, provided for a police in their new state, a veritable "force" of bowmen on foot and horseback. This police force consisted--of slaves. The free Athenian regarded this police duty as so degrading that he preferred being arrested by an armed slave rather than lending himself to such an ignominious service. That was still a sign of the old gentile spirit. The state could not exist without a police, but as yet it was too young and did not command sufficient moral respect to give prestige to an occupation that necessarily appeared ignominious to the old gentiles. How well this state, now completed in its main outlines, suited the social condition of the Athenians was apparent by the rapid growth of wealth, commerce and industry. The distinction of classes on which the social and political institutions are resting was no longer between nobility and common people, but between slaves and freemen, aliens and citizens. At the time of the greatest prosperity the whole number of free Athenian citizens, women and children included, amounted to about 90,000; the slaves of both sexes numbered 365,000 and the aliens--foreigners and freed slaves--45,000. Per capita of each adult citizen there were, therefore, at least eighteen slaves and more than two aliens. The great number of slaves is explained by the fact that many of them worked together in large factories under supervision. The development of commerce and industry brought about an accumulation and concentration of wealth in a few hands. The mass of the free citizens were impoverished and had to face the choice of either competing with their own labor against slave labor, which was considered ignoble and vile, besides promising little success, or to be ruined. Under the prevailing circumstances they necessarily chose the latter course and being in the majority they ruined the whole Attic state. Not democracy caused the downfall of Athens, as the European glorifiers of princes and lickspittle schoolmasters would have us believe, but slavery ostracizing the labor of the free citizen. The origin of the state among the Athenians presents a very typical form of state organization. For it took place without any marring external interference or internal obstruction--the usurpation of Pisistratos left no trace of its short duration. It shows the direct rise of a highly developed form of a state, the democratic republic, out of gentile society. And finally, we are sufficiently acquainted with all the essential details of the process. CHAPTER VI. GENS AND STATE IN ROME. The legend of the foundation of Rome sets forth that the first colonization was undertaken by a number of Latin gentes (one hundred, so the legend says) united into one tribe. A Sabellian tribe (also said to consist of one hundred gentes) soon followed, and finally a third tribe of various elements, but again numbering one hundred gentes, joined them. The whole tale reveals at the first glance that little more than the gens was borrowed from reality, and that the gens itself was in certain cases only an offshoot of an old mother gens still existing at home. The tribes bear the mark of artificial composition on their foreheads; still they were made up of kindred elements and after the model of the old spontaneous, not artificial tribe. At the same time it is not impossible that a genuine old tribe formed the nucleus of every one of these three tribes. The connecting link, the phratry, contained ten gentes and was called curia. Hence there were thirty curiae. The Roman gens is recognized as an institution identical with the Grecian gens. The Grecian gens being a continuation of the same social unit, the primordial form of which we found among the American Indians, the same holds naturally good of the Roman gens, and we can be more concise in its treatment. At least during the most ancient times of the city, the Roman gens had the following constitution: 1. Mutual right of inheritance for gentiles; the wealth remained in the gens. Paternal law being already in force in the Roman the same as in the Grecian gens, the offspring of female lineage were excluded. According to the law of the twelve tablets, the oldest written law of Rome known to us, the natural children had the first title to the estate; in case no natural children existed, the agnati (kin of male lineage) took their place; and last in line came the gentiles. In all cases the property remained in the gens. Here we observe the gradual introduction of new legal provisions, caused by increased wealth and monogamy, into the gentile practice. The originally equal right of inheritance of the gentiles was first limited in practice to the agnati, no doubt at a very remote date, and afterwards to the natural children and their offspring of male lineage. Of course this appears in the reverse order on the twelve tablets. 2. Possession of a common burial ground. The patrician gens Claudia, on immigrating into Rome from Regilli, was assigned to a separate lot of land and received its own burial ground in the city. As late as the time of Augustus, the head of Varus, who had been killed in the Teutoburger Wald, was brought to Rome and interred in the gentilitius tumulus; hence his gens (Quinctilia) still had its own tomb. 3. Common religious rites. These are well-known under the name of sacra gentilitia. 4. Obligation not to intermarry in the gens. It seems that this was never a written law in Rome, but the custom remained. Among the innumerable names of Roman couples preserved for us there is not a single case, where husband and wife had the same gentile name. The law of inheritance proves the same rule. By marrying, a woman loses her agnatic privileges, discards her gens, and neither she nor her children have any title to her father's estate nor to that of his brothers, because otherwise the gens of her father would lose his property. This rule has a meaning only then when the woman is not permitted to marry a gentile. 5. A common piece of land. In primeval days this was always obtained when the tribal territory was first divided. Among the Latin tribes we find the land partly in the possession of the tribe, partly of the gens, and partly of the households that could hardly represent single families at such an early date. Romulus is credited with being the first to assign land to single individuals, about 2.47 acres (two jugera) per head. But later on we still find some land in the hands of the gentes, not to mention the state land, around which turns the whole internal history of the republic. 6. Duty of the gentiles to mutually protect and assist one another. Written history records only remnants of this law. The Roman state from the outset manifested such superior power, that the duty of protection against injury devolved upon it. When Appius Claudius was arrested, his whole gens, including his personal enemies, dressed in mourning. At the time of the second Punic war the gentes united for the purpose of ransoming their captured gentiles. The senate vetoed this. 7. Right to bear the gentile name. This was in force until the time of the emperors. Freed slaves were permitted to assume the gentile name of their former master, but this did not bestow any gentile rights on them. 8. Right of adopting strangers into the gens. This was done by adoption into the family (the same as among the Indians) which brought with it the adoption into the gens. 9. The right to elect and depose chiefs is not mentioned anywhere. But inasmuch as during the first years of Rome's existence all offices were filled by election or nomination, from the king downward, and as the curiae elected also their own priests, we are justified in assuming the same in regard to gentile chiefs (principes)--no matter how well established the rule of choosing the candidates from the same family have been. Such were the constitutional rights of a Roman gens. With the exception of the completed transition to paternal law, they are the true image of the rights and duties of an Iroquois gens. Here, also, "the Iroquois is still plainly visible." How confused the ideas of our historians, even the most prominent of them, are when it comes to a discussion of the Roman gens, is shown by the following example: In Mommsen's treatise on the Roman family names of the Republican and Augustinian era (Römische Forschungen, Berlin, 1864, Vol. I.) he writes: "The gentile name was not only borne by all male gentiles including all adopted and wards, except, of course, the slaves, but also by the women.... The tribe (so Mommsen translates gens) is a common organization resulting from a common--actual, assumed or even invented--ancestor and united by common rites, burial grounds and customs of inheritance. All free individuals, hence women also, may and must claim membership in them. But the definition of the gentile name of the married women offers some difficulty. This is indeed obviated, as long as women were not permitted to marry any one but their gentiles. And we have proofs that for a long time the women found it much more difficult to marry outside than inside of the gens. This right of marrying outside, the gentis enuptio, was still bestowed as a personal privilege and reward during the sixth century.... But wherever such outside marriages occurred in primeval times, the woman must have been transferred to the tribe of her husband. Nothing is more certain than that by the old religious marriage woman was completely adopted into the legal and sacramental group of her husband and divorced from her own. Who does not know that the married woman releases her active and passive right of inheritance in favor of her gentiles, but enters the legal group of her husband, her children and his gentiles? And if her husband adopts her as his child into his family, how can she remain separated from his gens?" (Pages 9-11.) Here Mommsen asserts that the Roman women belonging to a certain gens were originally free to marry only within their gens; the Roman gens, according to him, was therefore endogamous, not exogamous. This opinion which contradicts the evidence of all other nations, is principally, if not exclusively, founded on a single much disputed passage of Livy (Book xxxix, c. 19). According to this passage, the senate decreed in the year 568 of the city, i. e., 186 B. C., (uti Feceniae Hispallae datió, deminutio, gentis enuptio, tutoris optio idem esset quasi ei vir testamento dedisset; utique ei ingenuo nubere liceret, neu quid ei qui eam duxisset, ob id fraudi ignominiaeve esset)--that Fecenia Hispalla shall have the right to dispose of her property, to diminish it, to marry outside of the gens, to choose a guardian, just as if her (late) husband had conferred this right on her by testament; that she shall be permitted to marry a freeman and that for the man who marries her this shall not constitute a misdemeanor or a shame. Without a doubt Fecenia, a freed slave, here obtains permission to marry outside of the gens. And equally doubtless the husband here has the right to confer on his wife by testament the right to marry outside of the gens after his death. But outside of which gens? If a woman had to intermarry in the gens, as Mommsen assumes, then she remained in this gens after her marriage. But in the first place, this assertion of an endogamous gens must be proven. And in the second place, if the women had to intermarry in the gens, then the men had to do the same, otherwise there could be no marriage. Then we arrive at the conclusion that the man could bequeath a right to his wife, which he did not have for himself. This is a legal impossibility. Mommsen feels this very well, and hence he supposes: "The marriage outside of the gens most probably required not only the consent of the testator, but of all gentiles." (Page 10, footnote.) This is not only a very daring assertion, but contradicts also the clear wording of the passage. The senate gives her this right as a proxy of her husband; they expressly give her no more and no less than her husband could have given her, but what they do give is an absolute right, independent of all limitations, so that, if she should make use of it, her new husband shall not suffer in consequence. The senate even instructs the present and future consuls and praetors to see that no inconvenience arise to her from the use of this right. Mommsen's supposition is therefore absolutely inadmissible. Then again: suppose a woman married a man from another gens, but remained in her own gens. According to the passage quoted above, her husband would then have had the right to permit his wife to marry outside of her own gens. That is, he would have had the right to make provisions in regard to the affairs of a gens to which he did not belong at all. The thing is so utterly unreasonable that we need not lose any words about it. Nothing remains but to assume that the woman in her first marriage wedded a man from another gens and thereby became a member of her husband's gens. Mommsen admits this for such cases. Then the whole matter at once explains itself. The woman, torn away from her old gens by her marriage and adopted into the gentile group of her husband, occupies a peculiar position in the new gens. She is now a gentile, but not a kin by blood. The manner of her entrance from the outset excludes all prohibition of intermarrying in the gens, into which she has come by marriage. She is adopted into the family relations of the gens and inherits some of the property of her husband when he dies, the property of a gentile. What is more natural than that this property should remain in the gens and that she should be obliged to marry a gentile of her husband and no other? If, however, an exception is to be made, who is so well entitled to authorize her as her first husband who bequeathed his property to her? At the moment when he bequeathes on her a part of his property and simultaneously gives her permission to transfer this property by marriage or as a result of marriage to a strange gens, he still is the owner of this property, hence he literally disposes of his personal property. As for the woman and her relation to the gens of her husband, it is he who by an act of his own free will--the marriage--introduced her into his gens. Therefore it seems quite natural that he should be the proper person to authorize her to leave this gens by another marriage. In short, the matter appears simple and obvious, as soon as we discard the absurd conception of an endogamous Roman gens and accept Morgan's originally exogamous gens. There is still another view which has probably found the greatest number of advocates. According to them the passage in Livy only means "that freed slave girls (libertae) cannot without special permission, e gente enubere (marry outside of the gens) or undertake any of the steps which, together with capitis deminutio minima[25] (the loss of family rights) would lead to a transfer of the liberta to another gens." (Lange, Römische Alterthümer, Berlin, 1856, I, p. 185, where our passage from Livy is explained by a reference to Huschke.) If this view is correct, then the passage proves still less for the relations of free Roman women, and there is so much less ground for speaking of their obligation to intermarry in the gens. The expression enuptio gentis (marriage outside of the gens) occurs only in this single passage and is not found anywhere else in the entire Roman literature. The word enubere (to marry outside) is found only three times likewise in Livy, and not in reference to the gens. The phantastic idea that Roman women had to intermarry in the gens owes its existence only to this single passage. But it cannot be maintained. For either the passage refers to special restrictions for freed slave women, in which case it proves nothing for free women (ingenuae). Or it applies also to free women, in which case it rather proves that the women as a rule married outside of the gens and were transferred by their marriage to their husbands' gens. This would be a point for Morgan against Mommsen. Almost three hundred years after the foundation of Rome the gentile bonds were still so strong that a patrician gens, the Fabians, could obtain permission from the senate to undertake all by itself a war expedition against the neighboring town of Veii. Three hundred and six Fabians are said to have marched and to have been killed from ambush. Only one boy was left behind to propagate the gens. Ten gentes, we said, formed a phratry, named curia. It was endowed with more important functions than the Grecian phratry. Every curia had its own religious rites, sacred possessions and priests. The priests of one curia in a body formed one of the Roman clerical collegiums. Ten curiae formed a tribe which probably had originally its own elected chief--leader in war and high priest--like the rest of the Latin tribes. The three tribes together formed the populus Romanus, the Roman people. Hence nobody could belong to the Roman people, unless he was a member of a Roman gens, and thus a member of a curia and tribe. The first constitution of the Roman people was as follows. Public affairs were conducted by the Senate composed, as Niebuhr was the first to state correctly, of the chiefs of the three hundred gentes. Because they were the elders of the gentes they were called patres, fathers, and as a body senatus, council of elders, from senex, old. Here also the customary choice of men from the same family of the gens brought to life the first hereditary nobility. These families were called patricians and claimed the exclusive right to the seats in the senate and to all other offices. The fact that in the course of time the people admitted this claim so that it became an actual privilege is confirmed by the legendary report that Romulus bestowed the rank of patrician and its privileges on the first senators. The senate, like the Athenian boulê, had to make the final decision in many affairs and to undertake the preliminary discussion of more important matters, especially of new laws. These were settled by the public meeting, the so-called comitia curiata (assembly of curiae.) The people met in curiae, probably grouped by gentes, and every one of the thirty curiae had one vote. The assembly of curiae adopted or rejected all laws, elected all higher officials including the rex (so-called king), declared war (but the senate concluded peace), and decided as a supreme court, on appeal, all cases involving capital punishment of Roman citizens. By the side of the senate and the public meeting stood the rex, corresponding to the Grecian basileus, and by no means, such an almost absolute king as Mommsen would have it.[26] The rex was also a military leader, a high priest and a chairman of certain courts. He had no other functions, nor any power over life, liberty and property of the citizens, except such as resulted from his disciplinary power as military leader or from his executive power as president of a court. The office of rex was not hereditary. On the contrary, he was elected, probably on the suggestion of his predecessor, by the assembly of curiae and then solemnly invested by a second assembly. That he could also be deposed is proved by the fate of Tarquinius Superbus. As the Greeks at the time of the heroes, so the Romans at the time of the so-called kings lived in a military democracy based on and developed from a constitution of gentes, phratries and tribes. What though the curiae and tribes were partly artificial formations, they were moulded after the genuine and spontaneous models of a society from which they originated and that still surrounded them on all sides. And though the sturdy patrician nobility had already gained ground, though the reges attempted gradually to enlarge the scope of their functions--all this does not change the elementary and fundamental character of the constitution, and this alone is essential. Meantime the population of the city of Rome and of the Roman territory, enlarged by conquest, increased partly by immigration, partly through the inhabitants of the annexed districts, Latins most of them. All these new members of the state (we disregard here the clients) stood outside of the old gentes, curiae and tribes and so did not form a part of the populus Romanus, the Roman people proper. They were personally free, could own land, had to pay taxes and were subject to military service. But they were not eligible to office and could neither take part in the assembly of curiae nor in the distribution of conquered state lands. They made up the mass of people excluded from all public rights, the plebs. By their continually growing numbers, their military training and armament they became a threat for the old populus who now closed their ranks hermetically against all new elements. The land seems to have been about evenly divided between populus and plebs, while the mercantile and industrial wealth, though as yet not very considerable, may have been mainly in the hands of the plebs. In view of the utter darkness that enwraps the whole legendary origin of Rome's historical beginning--a darkness that was rendered still more intense by the rationalistic and overofficious interpretations and reports of the juristically trained authors that wrote on the subject--it is impossible to make any definite statements about the time, the course and the motive of the revolution that put an end to the old gentile constitution. We are certain only that the causes arose out of the fights between the plebs and the populus. The new constitution, attributed to rex Servius Tullius and following the Grecian model, more especially that of Solon, created a new public assembly including or excluding all the members of populus and plebs according to whether they rendered military service or not. The whole population, subject to enlistment, was divided into six classes according to wealth. The lowest limitis in the five highest classes were: I., 100,000 ass; II., 75,000; III., 50,000; IV., 25,000; V., 11,000; which according to Dureau de la Malle is equal to about $3,155, $2,333, $1,555, $800, and $388. The sixth class, the proletarians, consisted of those who possessed less and were exempt from military service and taxes. In this new assembly of centuriae (comitia centuriata) the citizens formed ranks after the manner of soldiers, in companies of one hundred (centuria), and every centuria had one vote. Now the first class placed 80 centuriae in the field; the second 22, the third 20, the fourth 22, the fifth 30 and the sixth, for propriety's sake, one. To this were added 18 centuriae of horsemen composed of the most wealthy. Hence, there were 193 centuriae, giving a lowest majority vote of 97. Now the horsemen and the first class alone had together 98 votes. Being in the majority, they had only to agree, and they could pass any resolution without asking the consent of the other classes. This new assembly of centuriae assumed all the political rights of the former assembly of curiae, a few nominal privileges excepted. The curiae and the gentes composing them now were degraded to mere private and religious congregations, analogous to their Attic prototypes, and as such they vegetated on for a long time. But the assembly of curiae soon became obsolete. In order to drive also the three old tribes out of existence, a system of four local tribes was introduced. Every tribe was assigned to one quarter of the city and received certain political rights. Thus the old social order of blood kinship was destroyed also in Rome even before the abolition of the so-called royalty. A new constitution, founded on territorial division and difference of wealth took its place and virtually created the state. The public power of coërcion consisted here of citizens liable to military duty, to be used against the slaves and the so-called proletarians who were excluded from military service and general armament. After the expulsion of the last rex, Tarquinius Superbus, who had really usurped royal power, the new constitution was further improved by the institution of two military leaders (consuls) with equal powers, analogous to the custom of the Iroquois. The whole history of the Roman republic moves inside of this constitution: the struggles between patricians and plebs for admission to office and participation in the allotment of state lands, the merging of the patrician nobility in the new class of large property and money owners; the gradual absorption by the latter of all the land of the small holders who had been ruined by military service; the cultivation of these enormous new tracts by slaves; the resulting depopulation of Italy which not only opened the doors to the imperial tyrants, but also to their successors, the German barbarians. FOOTNOTES: [25] Translator's note. The term caput received the meaning of legal right of a person from the legal status of the head of a family.... Legal science extended the meaning of the term so that it related not alone to slaves, but also to minors and women. This legal right, so conceived, could be curtailed in three ways: Capitis deminutio maxima was the loss of the status libertatis (personal liberty), which included the loss of the status civitatis and familiae (civil and family rights); the capitis deminutio minor or media was the loss of the status civitatis (civil rights), including the loss of the status familiae (family rights); the capitis deminutio minima was the loss of the status familiae (family rights). Lange, Römische Alterthümer, Berlin, 1876, Vol. I., p. 204. [26] Author's note. The Latin rex is equivalent to the Celtic-Irish righ (tribal chief) and the Gothic reiks. That this, like the German Fürst, English first and Danish forste, originally signified gentile or tribal chief is evident from the fact that the Goths in the fourth century already had a special term for the king of later times, the military chief of a whole nation, viz., thiudans. In Ulfila's translation of the Bible Artaxerxes and Herod are never called reiks, but thiudans, and the empire of the emperor Tiberius not reiki, but thiudinassus. In the name of the Gothic thiudans, or king as we inaccurately translate, Thiudareiks (Theodoric, German Dietrich), both names flow together. CHAPTER VII. THE GENS AMONG CELTS AND GERMANS. Space forbids a consideration of the gentile institutions found in a more or less pure form among the savage and barbarian races of the present day; or of the traces of such institutions, discovered in the ancient history of civilized nations in Asia. One or the other are met everywhere. A few illustrations may suffice: Even before the gens had been recognized, it was pointed out and accurately described in its main outlines by the man who took the greatest pains to misunderstand it, McLennan, who wrote of this institution among the Kalmucks, the Circassians, the Samoyeds and three Indian nations: the Warals, the Magars and the Munnipurs. Recently it was described by M. Kovalevsky, who discovered it among the Pshavs, Shevsurs, Svanets and other Caucasian tribes. A few short notes about the existence of the gens among Celts and Germans may find a place here. The oldest Celtic laws preserved for us still show the gens in full bloom. In Ireland, it is alive in the popular instinct to this day, after it has been forced out of actual existence by the English. It was in full force in Scotland until the middle of the eighteenth century, and here it also succumbed only to the weapons, laws and courts of the English. The old Welsh laws, written several centuries before the English invasion, not later than the 11th century, still show collective agriculture of whole villages, although only exceptionally and as the survival of a former universal custom. Every family had five acres for its special use; another lot was at the same time cultivated collectively and its yield divided among the different families. In view of Irish and Scotch analogies it cannot be doubted that these village communities represent gentes or subdivisions of gentes, even though a repeated investigation of the Welsh laws, which I cannot undertake from lack of time (my notes are from 1869), should not directly corroborate this. One thing, however, is plainly proven by the Welsh and Irish laws, namely that the pairing family had not yet given way to monogamy among the Celts of the 11th century. In Wales, marriage did not become indissoluble by divorce, or rather by notification, until after seven years. Even if no more than three nights were lacking to make up the seven years, a married couple could still separate. Their property was divided among them: the woman made the division, the man selected his share. The furniture was divided according to certain very funny rules. If the marriage was dissolved by the man, he had to return the woman's dowry and a few other articles; if the woman wished a separation, then she received less. Of three children the man took two, the woman one, viz., the second child. If the woman married again after her divorce, and her first husband claimed her back, she was obliged to follow him, even if she had one foot in her new husband's bed. But if two had lived together for seven years, they were considered man and wife, even without the preliminaries of a formal marriage. Chasteness of the girls before marriage was by no means strictly observed, nor was it required. The regulations regarding this subject are of an extremely frivolous nature and in contradiction with civilized morals. When a woman committed adultery, her husband had a right to beat her--this was one of three cases when he could do so without incurring a penalty--but after that he could not demand any other satisfaction, for "the same crime shall either be atoned for or avenged, but not both." The reasons that entitled a woman to a divorce without curtailing her claims to a fair settlement were of a very diverse nature: bad breath of the man was sufficient. The ransom to be paid to the chief or king for the right of the first night (gobr merch, hence the medieval name marcheta, French marquette) plays a conspicuous part in the code of laws. The women had the right to vote in the public meetings. Add to this that similar conditions are vouched for in Ireland; that marriage on time was also quite the custom there, and that the women were assured of liberal and well defined privileges in case of divorce, even to the point of remuneration for domestic services; that a "first wife" existed by the side of others, and that legal and illegal children without distinction received a share of their deceased parent's property--and we have a picture of the pairing family among the Celts. The marriage laws of the American Indians seem strict in comparison to the Celtic, but this is not surprising when we remember that the Celts were still living in group marriage at Cesar's time. The Irish gens (Sept; the tribe was called clainne, clan) is confirmed and described not alone by the ancient law codes, but also by the English jurists of the 17th century who were sent across for the purpose of transforming the clan lands into royal dominions. Up to this time, the soil had been the collective property of the gens or the clan, except where the chiefs had already claimed it as their private dominion. When a gentile died, and a household was thus dissolved, the gentile chief (called caput cognationis by the English jurists) made a new assignment of the whole gentile territory to the rest of the household. This division of land probably took place according to such rules as were observed in Germany. Until about fifty years ago, village marks were quite frequent, and some of these so-called rundales may be found to this day. The farmers of a rundale, individual tenants on the soil that once was the collective property of the gens, but had been confiscated by the English conquerors, each pay the rent for his respective parcel. But they all combine their lands and parcel it off according to situation and quality. These parcels, called "Gewanne" on the German river Mosel, are cultivated collectively and their yield is divided into shares. Marshland and pastures are used in common. Fifty years ago, new divisions were still made occasionally, sometimes annually. The field map of such a rundale village looks exactly like that of a German "Gehöferschaft" (farming commune) on the Mosel or in the Hochwald. The gens also survives in the "factions." The Irish farmers often form parties that seem to be founded on absolutely contradictory or senseless distinctions, quite incomprehensible to Englishmen. The only purpose of these factions is apparently to rally for the popular sport of hammering the life out of one another. They are artificial reincarnations, modern substitutes for the dispersed gentes that demonstrate the continuation of the old gentile instinct in their own peculiar manner. By the way, in some localities the gentiles are still living together on what is practically their old territory. During the thirties, for instance, the great majority of the inhabitants of the old county of Monaghan had only four family names, i. e., they were descended from four gentes or tribes (clans).[27] The downfall of the gentile order in Scotland dates from the suppression of the revolt in 1745. What link of this order the Scotch clan represented remains to be investigated; that it is a link, is beyond doubt. Walter Scott's novels bring this Scotch highland clan vividly before our eyes. It is, as Morgan says, "an excellent type of the gens in organization and in spirit, and an extraordinary illustration of the power of the gentile life over its members.... We find in their feuds and blood revenge, in their localization by gentes, in their use of lands in common, in the fidelity of the clansman to his chief and of the members of the clan to each other, the usual and persistent features of gentile society.... Descent was in the male line, the children of the males remaining members of the clan, while the children of its female members belonged to the clans of their respective fathers." The fact that matriarchal law was formerly in force in Scotland is proved by the royal family of the Picts, who according to Beda observed female lineage. Even a survival of the Punaluan family had been preserved among the Scots, as among the Welsh. For until the middle ages, the chief of the clan or king, the last representatives of the former common husbands, had the right to claim the first night with every bride, unless a ransom was given. It is an indisputable fact, that the Germans were organized in gentes up to the time of the great migrations. The territory between the Danube, the Rhine, the Vistula and the northern seas was evidently occupied by them only a few centuries before Christ. The Cimbri and Teutons were then still in full migration, and the Suebi did not settle down until Cesar's time. Cesar expressly states that they settled down in gentes and kins (gentibus cognatibusque), and in the mouth of a Roman of the gens Julia this term gentibus has a definite meaning, that no amount of disputation can obliterate. This holds good for all Germans. It seems that even the provinces taken by them from the Romans were settled by distribution to gentes. The Alemanian code of laws affirms that the people settled in gentes (genealogiae) on the conquered land south of the Danube. Genealogia is used in exactly the same sense as was later on Mark--or Dorfgenossenschaft (mark or village community). Kovalevsky recently maintained that these genealogiae were the great household communities among which the land was divided, and from which the village communities developed later on. The same may be true of the fara, by which term the Burgundians and Langobards--a Gothic and a Herminonian or High German tribe--designated nearly, if not exactly, the same thing as the Alemanian genealogiae. Whether this is really the gens or the household community, must be settled by further investigation. The language records leave us in doubt, whether all the Germans had a common expression for gens or not, and as to what this term was. Etymologically, the Gothic, kuni, middle High German künne, corresponds to the Grecian genos and the Latin gens, and is used in the same sense. We are led back to the time of matriarchy by the terms for "woman" which are derived from the same root: Greek gynê, Slav zenâ, Gothic qvino, Norse kona, kuna. Among Langobards and Burgundians, I repeat, we find the term fara which Grimm derives from the hypothetical root fisan, to beget. I should prefer to trace it to the more obvious root faran, German fahren, to ride or to wander, in order to designate a certain well defined section of the wandering corps, composed quite naturally of relatives. As a result of centuries of wanderings from West to East and back again, this term was gradually applied to the sex group itself. There is furthermore the Gothic sibja, Anglosaxon sib, old High German sippia, sippa, High German sippe. Old Norse has only the plural sifjar, the relatives; the singular occurs only as the name of a goddess, Sif. Finally, another expression occurs in the Hildebrand Song, where Hildebrand asks Hadubrand "who is your father among the men of the nation ... or what is your kin?" (eddo huêllihhes cnuosles du sîs). If there was a common German term for gens, it was presumably the Gothic kuni. This is not only indicated by its identity with the corresponding term in related languages, but also by the fact that the word kuning, German König, English king, is derived from it, all of which originally signified chief of gens or tribe. Sibja, German Sippe (relationship), does not appear worthy of consideration. In old Norse, at least, sifjar signifies not alone kin by blood, but also kin through marriage; hence it comprises the members of at least two gentes, and the term sif cannot have been applied to the gens itself. In the order of battle, the Germans, like the Mexicans and Greeks, arranged the horsemen as well as the wedge-like columns of the troops on foot by gentes. Tacitus' indefinite expression, "by families and kinships," is explained by the fact that at his time the gens had long ceased to be a living body in Rome. Another passage of Tacitus is decisive. There he says: "The mother's brother regards his nephew as his son; some even hold that the bond of blood between the maternal uncle and the nephew is more sacred and close than that between father and son, so that when persons are demanded as securities, the sister's son is considered a better security than the natural son of the man whom they desire to place under bonds." Here we have a living proof of the matriarchal, and hence natural, gens, and it is described as a characteristic mark of the Germans.[28] If a member of such a gens gave his own son as a security for the fulfillment of a vow and this son became the victim of his father's breach of faith, that was the concern of the father alone. But when the son of a sister was sacrificed, then the most sacred gentile law was violated. The next relative who was bound above all others to protect the boy or young man, was held responsible for his death; either he should not have given the boy in bail or he should have kept the contract. If we had no other trace of gentile law among the Germans, this one passage would be sufficient proof of its existence. But there is another passage in the Old Norse song of the "Dawn of the Gods" and the "End of the World," the Völuspâ, which is still stronger evidence, because it is 800 years younger. In this "Vision of the Seeress," in which Bang and Bugge have now demonstrated the existence of Christian elements, also, the description of the time of general degeneration and corruption inaugurating the great catastrophe contains this passage: Broedbr munu berjask ok at bönum verdask Munu systrungar sifjum spilla. "Brothers will wage war against one another and become each other's murderers, and sisters' children will break the bonds of blood." Systrungr means the son of the mother's sister, and an abnegation of the blood kinship from that side surpasses in the eyes of the poet even the crime of fratricide. There is a deliberate climax in that systrungar, emphasizing the maternal kinship. If the term syskina-börn, brother's and sister's children, or syskina-synir, brother's and sister's sons, had been used, there would have been a weakening of the effect, instead of a climax. That shows that even at the time of the Vikings, when the Völuspâ was composed, the recollection of maternal law was not yet blotted out. Among the Germans with whom Tacitus was familiar maternal law had already given way to paternal lineage. The children were the next heirs of the father; in the absence of children, the brothers and uncles on both sides were next in line. The admission of the mother's brother to the inheritance is a relic of maternal law and proves that paternal law had only recently been introduced by the Germans. Traces of maternal law were preserved until late in the middle ages. It seems that even at this late date people still felt certain misgivings about the reliability of fatherhood, especially among serfs. For when a feudal lord demanded the return of a fugitive serf from a city, it was first required, for instance in Augsburg, Basel and Kaiserslautern, that the fact of his serfdom should be established by the oaths of six of his next blood relations, all of whom had to belong to his mother's kin. (Maurer, Städteverfassung, I, page 381.) Another relic of declining matriarchy was the (from the Roman standpoint) almost inexplicable respect of the Germans for the female sex. Young girls of noble family were considered the safest bonds to secure the keeping of contracts with Germans. In battle, nothing stimulated their courage so much as the horrible thought that their wives and daughters might be captured and carried into slavery. A woman was to them something holy and prophetical, and they listened to her advice in the most important matters. Veleda, the Bructerian priestess on the river Lippe, was the soul of the insurrection of the Batavians, in which Civilis at the head of German and Belgian tribes shook the foundations of Roman rule in Gaul. The women held undisputed sway in the house. If we may believe Tacitus, they, together with the old men and children, had to do all the work, for the men went hunting, drank and loafed. But as Tacitus does not say who cultivated the fields, and as according to his explicit statement the slaves paid only tithes, but did not work under compulsion, it seems that the adult men would have had to do what little agricultural work was required. The form of marriage, as stated above, was the pairing family in gradual transition to monogamy. It was not yet strict monogamy, for polygamy was permitted for the wealthy. Chasteness of the girls was in general carefully maintained, different from the custom of the Celts. Tacitus speaks with special ardor of the sacredness of the matrimonial bond among the Germans. Adultery of the woman is alone quoted by him as a reason for a divorce. But his treatment of this subject leaves many a flaw and besides, it too openly holds up the mirror of virtue to the dissipated Romans. So much is certain: Granted that the Germans were such exceptional models of virtue in their forests, it required only a short contact with the outer world to bring them down to the level of the other average Europeans. In the whirl of Roman life the last trace of pure morals disappeared even faster than the German language. Just read Gregorius of Tours. It is obvious that in the primeval forests of Germany no such hyper-refined voluptuousness could exist as in Rome. That implies fully enough superiority of the Germans over the Roman world, and there is no necessity for ascribing to them a moderation and chastity that have never been the qualities of any nation as a whole. A result of gentile law is the obligation to inherit the enmities as well as the friendships of one's father and relatives; so is furthermore the displacement of blood revenge by the Wergeld, a fine to be paid in atonement of manslaughter and injuries. A generation ago this Wergeld was considered a specifically German institution, but it has since been found that hundreds of nations introduced this mitigation of gentile blood revenge. Like the obligatory hospitality, it is found, for instance, among the American Indians. Tacitus' description of the manner in which hospitality was observed (Germania, chapt. 21) is almost identical with Morgan's. The hot and ceaseless controversy as to whether or not the Germans had already made a definite repartition of the cultivated land at Tacitus' time, and how the passages relating to this question should be interpreted, is now a thing of the past. After the following facts had been established: that the cultivated land of nearly all nations was tilled collectively by the gens and later on by communistic family groups, a practice which Cesar still found among the Suebi; that as a result of this practice the land was re-apportioned periodically; and that this periodical repartition of the cultivated land was preserved in Germany down to our days--after such evidence we need not waste any more breath on the subject. A transition within 150 years from collective cultivation, such as Cesar expressly attributes to the Suebi, to individual cultivation with annual repartition of the soil, such as Tacitus found among the Germans, is surely progress enough for any one. The further transition from this stage to complete private ownership of land during such a short period and without any external intervention would involve an absolute impossibility. Hence I can only read in Tacitus what he states in so many words: They change (or re-divide) the cultivated land every year, and enough land is left for common use. It is the stage of agriculture and appropriation of the soil which exactly tallies with the contemporaneous gentile constitution of the Germans. I leave the preceding paragraph unchanged, just as it stood in former editions. Meantime the question has assumed another aspect. Since Kovalevsky has demonstrated that the patriarchal household community existed nearly everywhere, perhaps even everywhere, as the connecting link between the matriarchal communistic and the modern isolated family, the question is no longer "Collective property or private property?" as discussed between Maurer and Waitz, but "What was the form of that collective property?" Not alone is there no doubt whatever, that the Suebi were the collective owners of their land at Cesar's time, but also that they tilled the soil collectively. The questions, whether their economic unit was the gens, or the household, or an intermediate communistic group, or whether all three of these groups existed at the same time as a result of different local conditions, may remain undecided for a long while yet. Kovalevsky maintains that the conditions described by Tacitus were not founded on the mark or village community, but on the household community, which developed much later into the village community by the growth of the population. Hence the settlements of the Germans on the territory they occupied at the time of the Romans, and on territory later taken by them from the Romans, would not have consisted of villages, but of large co-operative families comprising several generations, who cultivated a sufficient piece of land and used the surrounding wild land in common with their neighbors. If this was the case, then the passage in Tacitus regarding the changing of the cultivated land would indeed have an agronomic meaning, viz., that the co-operative household cultivated a different piece of land every year, and the land cultivated during the previous year was left untilled or entirely abandoned. The scarcity of the population would have left enough spare wild lands to make all dispute about land unnecessary. Only after the lapse of centuries, when the members of the family had increased so that the collective cultivation became incompatible with the prevailing conditions of production, the household communities were dissolved. The former common fields and meadows were then divided in the well-known manner among the various individual families that had now formed. The division of farm lands was first periodical, but later final, while forest, pasture and watercourses remained common property. It seems that this process of development has been fully established for Russia by historical investigation. As for Germany and, in the second place, for other German countries, it cannot be denied that this view affords in many instances a better interpretation of historical authorities and a readier solution of difficulties than the idea of tracing the village community to the time of Tacitus. The oldest documents, e. g. of the Codex Laureshamensis, are easier explained by the help of the household than of the village community. On the other hand, new difficulties now arise and new questions pose themselves. It will require further investigations to arrive at definite conclusions. However, I cannot deny that the probability is very much in favor of the intermediate stage of the household community.[29] While the Germans of Cesar's time had either just taken up settled abodes, or were still looking for them, they had been settled for a full century at the time of Tacitus. As a result there is a manifest progress in the production of necessities. The Germans lived in block houses; their clothing was still as primitive as their forests, consisting of rough woolen cloaks, animal skins and linen underclothing for the women and the wealthy. They lived on milk, meat, wild fruit and, as Pliny adds, oatmeal porridge which is the Celtic national dish in Ireland and Scotland to-day. Their wealth consisted in cattle of an inferior race. The kine were small, of unattractive appearance and without horns; the horses, little ponies, were not fast runners. Money, Roman coin only, was rarely used. They did not make ornaments of gold and silver, nor did they value these metals. Iron was scarce and, at least among the tribes on the Rhine and the Danube, was apparently only imported, not mined by themselves. The Runen script (imitations of Greek and Latin letters) was only used as a cipher and exclusively for religious sorcery. Human sacrifices were still in vogue. In short, they were a nation just emerged out of the middle stage of barbarism into the upper stage. But while the tribes whose immediate contact with the Romans facilitated the import of Roman products, were thereby prevented from acquiring a metal and textile industry of their own, there is not the least doubt that the tribes of the Northeast, on the Baltic, developed these industries. The pieces of armor found in the bogs of Sleswick--a long iron sword, a coat of mail, a silver helmet, etc., together with Roman coins from the close of the second century--, and the German metal ware spread by the migrations represent a peculiar type of a superior finish, even such as were modeled after Roman originals. With the exception of England, the emigration into the civilized Roman empire everywhere put an end to this home industry. How simultaneously this industry arose and developed, is shown e. g. by the bronze spangles. The specimens found in Burgundy, in Roumania and on the Sea of Asow, might have been manufactured in the same shop with those found in England or Sweden and are of undoubted German origin. The German constitution was also in keeping with the upper stage of barbarism. According to Tacitus, the council of chiefs (principes) universally decided matters of minor importance and prepared important matters for the decision of the public meetings. So far as we know anything of the public meeting in the lower stage of barbarism, viz., among the American Indians, it was only held by gentes, not by tribes or leagues of tribes. The chiefs of peace (principes) were still sharply distinguished from the chiefs of war (duces), just as among the Iroquois. The peace chiefs were already living in part on honorary donations of the gentiles, such as cattle, grain, etc. They were generally elected from the same family, analogous to America. The transition to paternal law favored, as in Greece and Rome, the gradual transformation of office by election into hereditary office. A "noble" family was thus gradually raised in each gens. Most of this hereditary nobility came to grief during the migrations or shortly after. The military leaders were elected solely on their merits. They had little power and were obliged to rely on the force of their example. The actual disciplinary power in the army was held by the priests, as Tacitus implicitly states. The public meeting was the real executive. The king or chief of the tribe presided. The people decided. A murmur signified "No," acclamation and clanging of weapons meant "Yes." The public meeting was at the same time a court of justice. Complaints were here brought forth and decided, and death sentences pronounced. Only cowardice, treason and unnatural lust were capital crimes. The gentes and other subdivisions decided in a body under the chairmanship of the chief, who in all original German courts was only the manager of the transactions and questioner. Among Germans, the sentence has ever and everywhere been pronounced by the community. Leagues of tribes came into existence since Cesar's time. Some of them already had kings. The first chief of war began to covet the usurper's place, as among Greeks and Romans, and sometimes succeeded in obtaining it. Such successful usurpers were by no means absolute rulers. But still they began to break through the bonds of the gens. While freed slaves generally occupied an inferior position, because they could not be members of any gens, they often gained rank, wealth and honors as favorites of the new kings. The same thing took place after the conquest of the Roman empire by those military leaders who had now become kings of great countries. Among the Frankons, slaves and freed slaves of the king played a leading role first at the court, then in the state. A large part of the new nobility were descended from them. There was one institution that especially favored the rise of royalty: the military following. We have already seen, how among the American redskins private war groups were formed independently of the gens. Among the Germans, these private groups had developed into standing bodies. The military leader who had acquired fame, gathered around his person a host of booty loving young warriors. They were pledged to personal faithfulness by their leader who in return pledged himself to them. He fed them, gave them presents and organized them on hierarchic principles: a body guard and a troop for immediate emergencies and short expeditions, a trained corps of officers for larger enterprises. These followings must have been rather insignificant, in fact we find them so later under Odoaker in Italy, still they portended the decay of the old gentile liberty, and the events during and after the migrations proved that military retainers were heralds of evil. For in the first place, they fostered the growth of royalty. In the second place, Tacitus affirms that they could only be held together by continual warfare and plundering expeditions. Robbery became their life purpose. If the leader found nothing to do in his neighborhood, he marched his troops to other countries, where a prospect of war and booty allured him. The German auxiliaries, many of whom fought under the Roman standard even against Germans, had been largely recruited among such followings. They represent the first germs of the "Landsknecht" profession, the shame and curse of the Germans. After the conquest of the Roman empire, these retainers of kings together with the unfree Roman courtiers formed the other half of the nobility of later days. In general, then, the German tribes combined into nations had the same constitution that had developed among the Greeks of the heroic era and the Romans at the time of the so-called kings: public meetings, councils of gentile chiefs and military leaders who coveted actual royal power. It was the highest constitution which the gentile order could produce; it was the standard constitution of the higher stage of barbarism. If society passed the limits for which this constitution sufficed, then the end of the gentile order had come. It collapsed and the state took its place. FOOTNOTES: [27] Author's note to the fourth edition. During a few days passed in Ireland, I once more became conscious to what extent the rural population is still living in the conceptions of the gentile period. The great landholder, whose tenant the farmer is, still enjoys a position similar to that of a clan chief, who has to supervise the cultivation of the soil in the interest of all, who is entitled to a tribute from the farmer in the form of rent, but who also has to assist the farmer in cases of need. Likewise everyone in comfortable circumstances is considered under obligation to help his poorer neighbors whenever they are in need. Such assistance is not charity, it is simply the prerogative of the poor gentile, which the rich gentile or the chief of the clan must respect. This explains why the professors of political economy and the jurists complain of the impossibility of imparting the idea of the modern private property to the Irish farmers. Property that has only rights, but no duties, is absolutely beyond the ken of the Irishman. No wonder that so many Irishmen who are suddenly cast into one of the modern great cities of England and America, among a population with entirely different moral and legal standards, despair of all morals and justice, lose all hold and become an easy prey to demoralization. [28] Author's note. The Greeks know this special sacredness of the bond between the mother's brother and his nephew, a relic of maternal law found among many nations, only in the mythology of heroic times. According to Diodorus IV., 34, Meleagros kills the sons of Thestius, the brother of his mother Althaia. The latter regards this deed as such a heinous crime that she curses the murderer, her own son, and prays for his death. "It is said that the gods fulfilled her wish and ended the life of Meleagros." According to the same Diordorus, IV., 44, the Argonauts under Herakles land in Thracia and there find that Phineus, at the instigation of his second wife, shamefully maltreats his two sons, the offspring of his first deserted wife, the Boread Kleopatra. But among the Argonauts there are also some Boreads, the brothers of Kleopatra, the uncles of the maltreated boys. They at once champion their nephews, set them free and kill their guards. [29] Translator's note. The household community is still a distinct stage of production in Georgia (South Russia). The northern boundary of Georgia is the Caucasus. The Georgians, a people of high intelligence, have for centuries maintained their independence against Persians, Arabs, Turcs and Tartars. Dr. Philipp Gogitshayshvili gives the following interesting description of their condition in an article, entitled "Das Gewerbe in Georgien" (Zeitschrift für die gesammte Staatswissenschaft, Ergänzungsheft I., Tübingen, 1901). "The Swanians (a district of Georgia is called Swania) have all the necessities of life. They weave their own clothing, make their own weapons, powder and even silver, and gold ornaments. There is no modern trading.... They are acquainted with exchange, but only of products for products. Money does not circulate and there are neither shops nor markets.... There is not a single beggar, not a single man who asks for charity. With the exception of iron, salt and chintz, the Swanians produce all they need themselves. They prepare their linen from hemp, their clothing from skins of wild animals and wool, their footwear from hides and leather. They make feltcaps, household goods, weapons, saddles, bridles and agricultural implements." CHAPTER VIII. THE RISE OF THE STATE AMONG GERMANS. According to Tacitus the German nation was very strong in numbers. An approximate idea of the strength of individual German nations is given by Caesar. He states that the number of Usipetans and Tencterans who crossed over to the left bank of the Rhine amounted to 180,000, including women and children. About 100,000[30] members to a single nation is considerably more than e. g. the Iroquois numbered in their prime, when 20,000 of them became the terror of the whole country, from the Great Lakes to the Ohio and Potomac. If we attempt to place the better known nations of the Rhine country by the help of historical reports, we find that a single nation occupies on the map the average area of a Prussian government district, about 10,000 square kilometers[31] or 182 German geographical square miles.[32] The Germania Magna of the Romans, reaching to the Vistula, comprised about 500,000 square kilometers. Counting an average of 100,000 for any single nation, the total population of Germania Magna would have amounted to five millions. This is a rather high figure for a barbarian group of nations, although 10 inhabitants to the square kilometer or 550 to the geographical square mile is very little when compared to present conditions. But this does not include the whole number of Germans then living. We know that German nations of the Gothic race, Bastarnians, Peukinians and others, lived all along the Carpathian mountains away down to the mouth of the Danube. They were so numerous that Pliny designated them as the fifth main division of the Germans. As much as 180 years B. C. they were mercenaries of the Macedonian King Perseus, and during the first years of Augustus they were still pushing their way as far as the vicinity of Adrianople. Assuming them to have been one million strong we find that at least six millions was the probable population of Germany at the beginning of the Christian era. After the final settlement in Germany, the population must have grown with increasing rapidity. The industrial progress mentioned above would be sufficient to prove it. The objects found in the bogs of Sleswick, to judge by the Roman coins found with them, are from the third century. Hence at that time the metal and textile industry was already well developed on the Baltic, a lively traffic with the Roman empire was carried on, and the wealthier class enjoyed a certain luxury--all of which indicates that the population had increased. But at the same time the general war of aggression against the Romans commenced along the whole line of the Rhine, of the Roman wall and of the Danube, a line stretching from the North Sea to the Black Sea. This is another proof of the ever growing outward pressure of the population. During the struggle which lasted three centuries, the whole main body of the Gothic nations, with the exception of the Scandinavian Goths and the Burgundians, marched to the Southeast and formed the left wing of the long line of attack. The High Germans (Herminonians) on the Upper Danube fought in the center, and the Iskaevonians on the Rhine, now called Franks, advanced on the right wing. The conquest of Brittany fell to the lot of the Ingaevonians.[33] At the end of the fifth century, the exhausted, bloodless, and helpless Roman empire lay open to the Germans. In former chapters we stood at the cradle of antique Greek and Roman civilization. Now we are standing at its grave. The equalizing plane of Roman world power had been gliding for centuries over all the Mediterranean countries. Where the Greek language did not offer any resistance, all national idioms had been crushed by a corrupted Latin. There were no longer any distinctions of nationality, no more Gauls, Iberians, Ligurians, Noricans; they had all become Romans. Roman administration and Roman law had everywhere dissolved the old gentile bodies and thus crushed the last remnant of local and national independence. The new type of Romans offered no compensation for this loss, for it did not express any nationality, but only the lack of a nationality. The elements for the formation of new nations were present everywhere. The Latin dialects of the different provinces differentiated more and more. But the natural boundaries that had once made Italy, Gaul, Spain, Africa independent territories, were still present and made themselves felt. Yet there was no strength anywhere for combining these elements into new nations. Nowhere was there the least trace of any capacity for development, nor any power of resistance, much less any creative power. The immense human throng of that enormous territory was held together by one bond alone: the Roman state. But this state had in time become the worst enemy and oppressor of its subjects. The provinces had ruined Rome. It had become a provincial town like all others, privileged, but no longer ruling, no longer the center of the world empire, no longer even the seat of the emperors and subregents who lived in Constantinople, Treves and Milan. The Roman state had become an immense complicated machine, designed exclusively for the exploitation of its subjects. Taxes, state imposts and tithes of all sorts drove the mass of the people deeper and deeper into poverty. By the blackmailing practices of the regents, tax collectors and soldiers, the pressure was increased to such a point that it became insupportable. This was the outcome of Rome's world power. The right of the state to existence was founded on the preservation of order in the interior and the protection against the barbarians outside. But this order was worse than the most disgusting disorder, and the barbarians against whom the state pretended to protect its citizens, were hailed by them as saviors. The condition of society was no less desperate. During the last years of the republic, the Roman rulers had already contrived the pitiless exploitation of the conquered provinces. The emperors had not abolished, but organized this exploitation. The more the empire fell to pieces, the higher rose the taxes and tithes, and the more shamelessly did the officials rob and blackmail. Commerce and industry had never been a strong point of the domineering Romans. Only in usury they had excelled all other nations before and after them. What commerce had managed to exist, had been ruined by official extortion. Only in the East, in the Grecian part of the empire, some commerce still vegetated, but this is outside of the scope of our study. Universal reduction to poverty, decrease of traffic, of handicrafts, of art, of population, decay of the towns, return of agriculture to a lower stage--that had been the final result of Roman world supremacy. But now agriculture, the most prominent branch of production in the whole Old World, was again supreme, and more than ever. In Italy, the immense estates (latifundiae) that comprised nearly the whole country since the end of the republic, had been utilized in two ways: either as pastures on which the population had been replaced by sheep and oxen, the care of which required only a few slaves; or as country seats, on which masses of slaves carried on horticulture on a large scale, partly for the luxury of the owner, partly for sale on the markets of the towns. The great pastures had been preserved and even extended in certain parts. But the country seats and their horticulture had gone to ruin through the impoverishment of their owners and the decay of the towns. Latifundian economy based on slave labor was no longer profitable; but in its time it had been the only possible form of agriculture on a large scale. Now, however, small production had again become the only lucrative form. One country seat after the other was parceled and leased in small lots to hereditary tenants who paid a fixed rent, or to partiarii, more administrators than tenants who received one-sixth or even only one-ninth of a year's product in remuneration for their work. But these little lots were principally disposed of to colonists who paid a fixed sum annually and could be transferred by sale together with their lots. Although no slaves, still these colonists were not free; they could not marry free citizens, and marriages with members of their own class were not regarded as valid, but as mere concubinages like those of the slaves. The colonists were the prototypes of the medieval serfs. The ancient slavery had lost its vitality. Neither in the country in large scale agriculture, nor in the manufactories of the towns did it yield any more returns--the market for its products had disappeared. And small scale production and artisanship, to which the gigantic production of the flourishing time of the empire was now reduced, did not leave any room for numerous slaves. Only house and luxury slaves of the rich were still retained by society. But this declining slavery was as yet sufficiently strong to brand productive labor as slave work, as below the dignity of free Romans; and everybody was now a free Roman. An increasing number of superfluous slaves who had become a drug on their owners were dismissed, while on the other hand the number of colonists and of beggared free men (similar to the poor whites in the slave states of America) grew continuously. Christianity is perfectly innocent of this gradual decline of ancient slavery. For it had taken part in the slavery of the Roman empire for centuries. It never prevented the slave trade of Christians later on, neither of the Germans in the North, nor of the Venetians on the Mediterranean, nor the negro traffic of later years.[34] Slavery died, because it did not pay any longer. But it left behind its poisonous sting by branding as ignoble the productive labor of free men. This brought the Roman world into a closed alley from which it could not escape. Slave labor was economically impossible and the labor of free men was under a moral ban. The one could exist no longer, the other could not yet be the fundamental form of social production. There was no other help but a complete revolution. The provinces were not any better off. The most complete reports on this subject are from Gaul. By the side of the colonists, free farmers still existed there. In order to protect themselves against the brutal blackmail of the officials, judges and usurers, they frequently placed themselves under the protectorate of a man of influence and power. Not only single individuals did so, but whole communities, so that the emperors of the fourth century often issued decrees prohibiting this practice. But what good did protection do to the clients? The patron imposed the condition that they should transfer the title of their lots to him, and in return he assured them of the free enjoyment of their land for life--a trick which the holy church remembered and freely imitated during the ninth and tenth century, for the greater glory of God. In the fifth century, however, about the year 475, Bishop Salvianus of Marseilles still vehemently denounced such robbery and relates that the methods of the Roman officials and great landlords became so oppressive that many "Romans" fled to the districts occupied by the barbarians and feared nothing so much as a return under Roman rule. That poor parents frequently sold their children into slavery, is proved by a law forbidding this practice. In return for liberating the Romans from their own state, the barbarians appropriated two-thirds of the entire land and divided it among themselves. The distribution was made by gentile rules. As the number of the conquerors was relatively small, large tracts remained undivided in the possession of the nation, the tribe or the gens. Every gens distributed the land for cultivation and pastures to the individual households by drawing lots. We do not know whether repeated divisions took place at that time. At any rate, this practice was soon discarded in the Roman provinces, and the individual lot became salable private property, a so-called freehold (allodium). Forests and pastures remained undivided for collective use. This use and the mode of cultivating the divided land was regulated by tradition and the will of the community. The longer the gens lived in its village, and the better Germans and Romans became amalgamated in the course of time, the more did the character of kinship lose ground before territorial bounds. The gens disappeared in the mark commune, the members of which, however, still exhibited traces of kinship. In the countries where mark communes were still preserved--in the North of France, in England, Germany and Scandinavia--the gentile constitution gradually merged into a local constitution and thus acquired the capacity of being fitted into a state. Nevertheless this local constitution retained some of the primeval democratic character which distinguishes the whole gentile order, and thus preserved a piece of gentilism even in its enforced degeneration of later times. This left a weapon in the hands of the oppressed, ready to be wielded by them even in the present time. The rapid loss of the bonds of blood in the gens as a result of conquest caused the degeneration of the tribal and national organs of gentilism. We know that the rule over subjugated people does not agree with the gentile constitution. Here we have an opportunity to observe this on a large scale. The German nations, masters of the Roman provinces, had to organize their conquests. But they could neither adopt the Romans as a body into their gentes, nor rule them by the help of gentile organs. A substitute for them had to be placed at the head of the Roman administrative bodies that were largely retained in local affairs, and this substitute could only be another state. Hence the organs of the gentile constitution had to become organs of the state, and under the pressure of the moment this took place very rapidly. Now the first representative of the conquering nation was the military leader. The internal and external security of the conquered territory demanded that his power should be strengthened. The moment had arrived for the transition from war leadership to monarchy. And the change took place. Take e. g. the realm of the Franks. The victorious Salians had not only come into possession of the extensive Roman state dominions, but also of all the large tracts that had not been assigned to the more or less small mark communities, especially of all large forest tracts. The first thing which the king of the Franks, now a real monarch, did was to change this national property into royal property, to steal it from the people and to donate or give it in lien to his retainers. This retinue, originally composed of his personal war followers and of the subcommanders of the army, was increased by Romans, i. e., romanized Gauls who quickly became invaluable to the king through their knowledge of writing, their education and their familiarity with the language and laws of the country, and with the language of Latin literature. But slaves, serfs and freed slaves also became his courtiers. From among all these he chose his favorites. At first they received donations of public land, and later on these benefits were generally conferred for the lifetime of the king. The foundation of a new nobility was thus laid at the expense of the people. But this was not all. The wide expanse of the empire could not be governed by means of the old gentile constitution. The council of chiefs, if it had not become obsolete long ago, could not have held any more meetings. It was soon displaced by the standing retinue of the king. A pretense at the old public meeting was still kept up, but it also was more and more limited to the meeting of the subcommanders of the army and the rising nobles. Just as formerly, the Roman farmers during the last period of the republic, so now the free land-owning peasants, the mass of the Frank people, were exhausted and reduced to penury by continual civil feuds and wars of conquest. They who once had formed the whole army and, after the conquest of France, its picked body, were so impoverished at the end of the ninth century that hardly more than every fifth man could go to war. The former army of free peasants, convoked directly by the king, was replaced by an army composed of dependents of the new nobles. Among these servants were also villeins, the descendants of the peasants who had acknowledged no master but the king and a little earlier not even a king. Under Charlemagne's successors the ruin of the Frank peasantry was aggravated by internal wars, weakness of the royal power and corresponding overbearance of the nobles. The latter had received another addition to their ranks through the installation by Charlemagne of "Gau"[35] (district) counts who strove to make their offices hereditary. The invasions of the Normans completed the wreck of the peasantry. Fifty years after the death of Charlemagne, France lay as resistless at the feet of the Normans, as four hundred years previous the Roman empire had lain at the feet of the Franks. Not only was the external impotence almost the same, but also the internal order or rather disorder of society. The free Frank peasants found themselves in a similar position as their predecessors, the Roman colonists. Ruined by wars and robberies, they had been forced to seek the protection of the nobles or the church, because the royal power was too weak to shield them. But they had to pay dearly for this protection. Like the Gallic farmers, they had to transfer the titles of their land to their patrons, and received it back from them as tenants in different and varying forms, but always only in consideration of services and tithes. Once driven into this form of dependence, they gradually lost their individual liberty. After a few generations most of them became serfs. How rapidly the free peasants sank from their level is shown by the land records of the abbey Saint Germain des Prés, then near, now in, Paris. On the vast holdings of this abbey in the surrounding country 2788 households, nearly all of them Franks with German names, were living at Charlemagne's time; 2080 of them were colonists, 35 lites,[36] 220 slaves and only 8 freeholders. The practice of the patrons to demand the transfer of the land titles to themselves and give the former owners the use of the land for life, denounced as ungodly by Salvianus, was now universally practiced by the Church in its dealings with the peasants. The compulsory labor that now came more and more into vogue, had been moulded as much after the Roman angariae, compulsory service for the state, as after the services of the German mark men in bridge and road building and other work for common purposes. By all appearances, then, the mass of the population had arrived at the same old goal after four hundred years. That proved two things: Firstly, that the social differentiation and the division of property in the sinking Roman empire corresponded perfectly to the contemporaneous stage of production in agriculture and industry, and hence was unavoidable; secondly, that this stage of production had not been essentially altered for better or worse during four hundred years, and therefore had necessarily produced the same division of property and the same classes of population. The town had lost its supremacy over the country during the last centuries of the Roman empire, and had not regained it during the first centuries of German rule. This presupposes a low stage of agriculture and industry. Such a general condition produces of necessity the domination of great proprietors and the dependence of small farmers. How impossible it was to graft either the slave labor of Roman latifundian economy or the compulsory labor of the new large scale production into such a society, is proved by Charlemagne's very extensive experiments with his famous imperial country residences that left hardly a trace. These experiments were continued only by the convents and brought results only for them. But the convents were abnormal social institutions, founded on celibacy. They could do exceptional work, but they had to remain exceptions themselves for this very reason. Yet some progress had been made during these four hundred years. Although in the end we find the same main classes as in the beginning, still the human beings that made up these classes had changed. The ancient slavery had disappeared; gone were also the beggared freemen who had despised work as slavish. Between the Roman colonist and the new serf, there had been the free Frank peasant. The "useless remembrance and the vain feud" of the decaying Roman nation was dead and gone. The social classes of the ninth century had been formed during the travail of a new civilization, not in the demoralization of a sinking one. The new race, masters and servants, were a race of men as compared to their Roman predecessors. The relation of powerful landlords to serving peasants, which had been the unavoidable result of collapse in the antique world, was for the Franks the point of departure on a new line of development. Moreover, unproductive as these four hundred years may appear, they left behind one great product: the modern nationalities, the reorganization and differentiation of West European humanity for the coming history. The Germans had indeed infused a new life into Europe. Therefore the dissolution of the states in the German period did not end in a subjugation after the Norse-Saracene plan, but in a continued development of the estate of the royal beneficiaries and an increasing submission (commendatio) to feudalism, and in such a tremendous increase of the population, that no more than two centuries later the bloody drain of the crusades could be sustained without injury. What was the mysterious charm by which the Germans infused a new life into decrepit Europe? Was it an innate magic power of the German race, as our jingo historians would have it? By no means. Of course, the Germans were a highly gifted Aryan branch and, especially at that time, in full process of vigorous development. They did not, however, rejuvenate Europe by their specific national properties, but simply by their barbarism, their gentile constitution. Their personal efficiency and bravery, their love of liberty, and their democratic instinct which regarded all public affairs as its own affairs, in short all those properties which the Romans had lost and which were alone capable of forming new states and raising new nationalities out of the muck of the Roman world--what were they but characteristic marks of the barbarians in the upper stage, fruits of the gentile constitution? If they transformed the antique form of monogamy, mitigated the male rule in the family and gave a higher position to women than the classic world had ever known, what enabled them to do so, unless it was their barbarism, their gentile customs, their living inheritance of the time of maternal law? If they could safely transmit a trace of the genuine gentile order, the mark communes, to the feudal states of at least three of the most important countries--Germany, North of France, and England--and thus give a local coherence and the means of resistance to the oppressed class, the peasants, even under the hardest medieval serfdom; means which neither the slaves of antiquity nor the modern proletarian found ready at hand--to whom did they owe this, unless it was again their barbarism, their exclusively barbarian mode of settling in gentes? And in conclusion, if they could develop and universally introduce the mild form of servitude which they had been practicing at home, and which more and more displaced slavery also in the Roman empire--to whom was it due, unless it was again their barbarism, thanks to which they had not yet arrived at complete slavery, neither in the form of the ancient labor slaves, nor in that of the oriental house slaves? This milder form of servitude, as Fourier first stated, gave to the oppressed the means of their gradual emancipation as a class (fournit aux cultivateurs des moyens d'affranchissement collectif et progressif) and is therefore far superior to slavery, which permits only the immediate enfranchisement of the individual without any transitory stage. Antiquity did not know any abolition of slavery by rebellion, but the serfs of the middle ages gradually enforced their liberation as a class. Every vital and productive germ with which the Germans inoculated the Roman world, was due to barbarism. Indeed, only barbarians are capable of rejuvenating a world laboring under the death throes of unnerved civilization. And the higher stage of barbarism, to which and in which the Germans worked their way up previous to the migrations, was best calculated to prepare them for this work. That explains everything. FOOTNOTES: [30] Author's note. The number assumed here is confirmed by a passage of Diodorus on the Celts of Gaul: "Many nations of unequal strength are living in Gaul. The strongest of them numbers about 200,000, the weakest 50,000." (Diodorus Siculus, V., 25.) That gives an average of 125,000. The individual nations of Gaul, being more highly developed, should be gauged more numerous than those of Germany. [31] Translator's note. 3861 square statute miles. [32] A German geographical mile contains 7,420.44 meters, or 7.42044 kilometers; hence a German geographical square mile contains 55.0629 square kilometers, equal to 21.2598 square statute miles. [33] Translator's note. The Ingaevonians comprised the Friesians, the Saxons, the Jutes and the Angles, living on the coast of the North Sea from the Zuider Zee to Denmark. [34] Author's note. According to Bishop Liutprand of Cremona, the main industry of Verdun in the tenth century, in the so-called Holy German Empire, was the manufacture of eunuchs, who were exported with great profit to Spain for the harems of the Moors. [35] Translator's note. The "Gau" is a larger territory than the "Mark." Caesar and Tacitus called it pagus. [36] Translator's note. The name given in ancient law to dependent farmers. CHAPTER IX. BARBARISM AND CIVILIZATION. Having observed the dissolution of the gentile order in the three concrete cases of the Greek, Roman, and German nations, we may now investigate in conclusion the general economic conditions that began by undermining the gentile organization of society during the upper stage of barbarism and ended by doing away with it entirely at the advent of civilization. Marx's "Capital" will be as necessary for the successful completion of this task as Morgan's "Ancient Society." A growth of the middle stage and a product of further development during the upper stage of savagery, the gens reached its prime, as near as we can judge from our sources of information, in the lower stage of barbarism. With this stage, then, we begin our investigation. In our standard example, the American redskins of that time, we find the gentile constitution fully developed. A tribe had differentiated into several gentes, generally two. Through the increase of the population, these original gentes again divided into several daughter gentes, making the mother gens a phratry. The tribe itself split up into several tribes, in each of which we again meet a large number of representatives of the old gentes. In certain cases a federation united the related tribes. This simple organization fully sufficed for the social conditions out of which it had grown. It was nothing else than the innate, spontaneous expression of those conditions, and it was well calculated to smooth over all internal difficulties that could arise in this social organization. External difficulties were settled by war. Such a war could end in the annihilation of a tribe, but never in its subjugation. It is the grandeur and at the same time the limitation of the gentile order that it has no room either for masters or servants. There were as yet no distinctions between rights and duties. The question whether he had a right to take part in public affairs, to practice blood revenge or to demand atonement for injuries would have appeared as absurd to an Indian, as the question whether it was his duty to eat, sleep, and hunt. Nor could any division of a tribe or gens into different classes take place. This leads us to the investigation of the economic basis of those conditions. The population was very small in numbers. It was collected only on the territory of the tribe. Next to this territory was the hunting ground surrounding it in a wide circle. A neutral forest formed the line of demarcation from other tribes. The division of labor was quite primitive. The work was simply divided between the two sexes. The men went to war, hunted, fished, provided the raw material for food and the tools necessary for these pursuits. The women cared for the house, and prepared food and clothing; they cooked, weaved and sewed. Each sex was master of its own field of activity; the men in the forest, the women in the house. Each sex also owned the tools made and used by it; the men were the owners of the weapons, of the hunting and fishing tackle, the women of the household goods and utensils. The household was communistic, comprising several, and often many, families.[37] Whatever was produced and used collectively, was regarded as common property: the house, the garden, the long boat. Here, and only here, then, do we find the "self-earned property" which jurists and economists have falsely attributed to civilized society, the last deceptive pretext of legality on which modern capitalist property is leaning. But humanity did not everywhere remain in this stage. In Asia they found animals that could be tamed and propagated in captivity. The wild buffalo cow had to be hunted down; the tame cow gave birth to a calf once a year, and also furnished milk. Some of the most advanced tribes--Aryans, Semites, perhaps also Turanians--devoted themselves mainly to taming, and later to raising and tending, domestic animals. The segregation of cattle raising tribes from the rest of the barbarians constitutes the first great division of social labor. These stock raising tribes did not only produce more articles of food than the rest of the barbarians, but also different kinds of products. They were ahead of the others by having at their disposal not alone milk, milk products, and a greater abundance of meat, but also skins, wool, goat's hair, and the spun and woven goods which the growing abundance of the raw material brought into common use. This for the first time made a regular exchange of products possible. In former stages, exchange could only take place occasionally, and an exceptional ability in manufacturing weapons and tools may have led to a transient division of labor. For example, unquestionable remains of workshops for stone implements of the neolithic period have been found in many places. The artists who developed their ability in those shops, most probably worked for the collectivity, as did the artisans of the Indian gentile order. At any rate, no other exchange than that within the tribe could exist in that stage, and even that was an exception. But after the segregation of the stock raising tribes we find all the conditions favorable to an exchange between groups of different tribes, and to a further development of this mode of trading into a fixed institution. Originally, tribe exchanged with tribe through the agency of their tribal heads. But when the herds drifted into the hands of private individuals, then the exchange between individuals prevailed more and more, until it became the established form. The principal article of exchange which the stock raising tribes offered to their neighbors was in the form of domestic animals. Cattle became the favorite commodity by which all other commodities were measured in exchange. In short, cattle assumed the functions of money and served in this capacity as early as that stage. With such necessity and rapidity was the demand for a money commodity developed at the very beginning of the exchange of commodities. Horticulture, probably unknown to the Asiatic barbarians of the lower stage, arose not later than the middle stage of barbarism, as the forerunner of agriculture. The climate of the Turanian Highland does not admit of a nomadic life without a supply of stock feed for the long and hard winter. Hence the cultivation of meadows and grain was indispensable. The same is true of the steppes north of the Black Sea. Once grain had been grown for cattle, it soon became human food. The cultivated land belonged as yet to the tribe and was assigned first to the gens, which in its turn distributed it to the households, and finally to individuals; always for use only, not for possession. The users may have had certain claims to the land, but that was all. Two of the industrial acquisitions of this stage are especially important. The first is the weaving loom, the second the melting of metal ore and the use of metals in manufacture. Copper, tin, and their alloy, bronze, were the most essential of them. Bronze furnished tools and weapons, but could not displace stone implements. Only iron could have done that, but the production of iron was as yet unknown. Gold and silver were already used for ornament and decoration, and must have been far more precious than copper and bronze. The increase of production in all branches--stock raising, agriculture, domestic handicrafts--enabled human labor power to produce more than was necessary for its maintenance. It increased at the same time the amount of daily work that fell to the lot of every member of a gens, a household, or a single family. The addition of more labor power became desirable. It was furnished by war; the captured enemies were transformed into slaves. Under the given historical conditions, the first great division of social labor, by increasing the productivity of labor, adding to the wealth, and enlarging the field of productive activity, necessarily carried slavery in its wake. Out of the first great division of social labor arose the first great division of society into two classes: masters and servants, exploiters and exploited. How and when the herds were transferred from the collective ownership of the tribe or gens to the proprietorship of the heads of the families, is not known to us. But it must have been practically accomplished in this stage. The herds and the other new objects of wealth brought about a revolution in the family. Procuring the means of existence had always been the man's business. The tools of production were manufactured and owned by him. The herds were the new tools of production, and their taming and tending was his work. Hence he owned the cattle and the commodities and slaves obtained in exchange for them. All the surplus now resulting from production fell to the share of the man. The woman shared in its fruition, but she could not claim its ownership. The "savage" warrior and hunter had been content to occupy the second place in the house, to give precedence to the woman. The "gentler" shepherd, standing on his wealth, assumed the first place and forced the woman back into the second place. And she had no occasion to complain. The division of labor in the family had regulated the distribution of property between man and wife. This division of labor remained unchanged. Yet the former domestic relation was now reversed, simply because the division of labor outside of the family had been altered. The same cause that once had secured the supremacy in the house for women, viz., the confining of women's activity to domestic labor, now assured the supremacy of the men in the households. The domestic labor of women was considered insignificant in comparison to men's work for a living. The latter was everything, the former a negligible quantity. At this early stage we can already see that the emancipation of women and their equality with men are impossible and remain so, as long as women are excluded from social production and restricted to domestic labor. The emancipation of women becomes feasible only then when women are enabled to take part extensively in social production, and when domestic duties require their attention in a minor degree. This state of things was brought about by the modern great industries, which not only admit of women's liberal participation in production, but actually call for it and, besides, endeavor to transform domestic work also into a public industry. Man's advent to practical supremacy in the household marked the removal of the last barrier to his universal supremacy. His unlimited rule was emphasized and endowed with continuity by the downfall of matriarchy, the introduction of patriarchy, and the gradual transition from the pairing family to the monogamic family. This made a breach in the old gentile order. The monogamic family became a power and lifted a threatening hand against the gens. The next step brings us to the upper stage of barbarism, that period in which all nations of civilization go through their heroic era. It is the time of the iron sword, but also of the iron plow share and axe. The iron had become the servant of man. It is the last and most important of all raw products that play a revolutionary role in history; the last--if we except the potato. Iron brought about agriculture on a larger scale and the clearing of extensive forest tracts for cultivation. It gave to the craftsman a tool of such hardness and sharpness that no stone, no other known metal, could withstand it. All this came about gradually. The first iron was often softer than bronze. Therefore stone implements disappeared very slowly. Not only in the Hildebrand Song, but also at Hastings in 1066, stone axes were still used in fighting. But progress was now irresistible, less interrupted and more rapid. The town, inclosing houses of stone or tiles within its turreted and crested stone walls, became the central seat of the tribe or federation of tribes. It showed an astounding progress of architecture, but also an increase of danger and of the demand for protection. Wealth increased rapidly, but it was the wealth of private individuals. Weaving, metal work and other more and more differentiating industries developed an increasing variety and display of art in production. Agriculture furnished not alone grain, peas, beans and fruit, but also oil and wine, the preparation of which had now been learned. Such a diversity of action could not be displayed by any single individual. The second great division of labor took place: handicrafts separated from agriculture. The growing intensity of production and the increased productivity enhanced the value of human labor power. Slavery, which had been a rising and sporadic factor in the preceding stage, now became an essential part of the social system. The slaves ceased to be simple assistants. They were now driven in scores to the work in the fields and shops. The division of production into two great branches, agriculture and handicrafts, gave rise to production for exchange, the production of commodities. Trade arose at the same time, not only in the interior and on the tribal boundaries, but also in the form of maritime exchange. All this was as yet in a very undeveloped state. The precious metals gained preference as a universal money commodity, but still uncoined and exchanged merely by dead weight. The distinction between rich and poor was added to that between free men and slaves. This and the new division of labor constitute a new division of society into classes. The differences in the amount of property belonging to the several family heads broke up the old communistic households one by one, wherever they might have been preserved thus far. This made an end to the collective cultivation of the soil for the account of the community. The cultivated land was assigned for use to the several families, first for a limited time, later for once and all. The transition to full private property was accomplished gradually and simultaneously with the transition from the pairing family to monogamy. The monogamous family began to be the economic unit of society. The increase of population necessitated a closer consolidation against internal and external foes. The federation of related tribes became unavoidable. Their amalgamation, and thence the amalgamation of the separate tribal territories to one national territory, was the following step. The military leader--rex, basileus, thiudans--became an indispensable and standing official. The public meeting was introduced wherever it did not yet exist. The military leader, the council of chiefs, and the public meeting formed the organs of the military democracy that had grown out of the gentile constitution. Military democracy--for now war and organization for war were regular functions of social life. The wealth of the neighbors excited the greed of nations that began to regard the acquisition of wealth as one of the main purposes of their life. They were barbarians: robbing appeared to them easier and more honorable than producing. War, once simply a revenge for transgressions or a means for enlarging a territory that had become too narrow, was now waged for the sake of plunder alone and became a regular profession. Not in vain did threatening walls cast a rigid stare all around the new fortified towns: their yawning ditches were the tomb of the gentile constitution, and their turrets already reached up into civilization. The internal affairs underwent a similar change. The plundering wars increased the power of the military leader and of the subcommanders. The habitual election of the successors from the same family was gradually transformed into hereditary succession, first by sufferance, then by claim, and finally by usurpation. Thus the foundation of hereditary royalty and nobility was laid. In this manner the organs of the gentile constitution were gradually torn away from their roots in the nation, tribe, phratry and gens, and the whole gentile order reversed into its antithesis. The organization of tribes for the purpose of the free administration of affairs was turned into an organization for plundering and oppressing their neighbors. The organs of gentilism changed from servants of the public will to independent organs of rule oppressing their own people. This could not have happened, if the greed for wealth had not divided the gentiles into rich and poor; if the "difference of property in a gens had not changed the community of interest into antagonism of the gentiles" (Karl Marx); and if the extension of slavery had not begun by branding work for a living as slavish and more ignominious than plundering. * * * * * We have now reached the threshold of civilization. This stage is inaugurated by a new progress in the division of labor. In the lower stage of barbarism production was carried on for use only; any acts of exchange were confined to single cases when a surplus was accidentally realized. In the middle stage of barbarism we find that the possession of cattle gave a regular surplus to the nomadic nations with sufficiently large herds. At the same time there was a division of labor between nomadic nations and backward nations without herds. The existence of two different stages of production side by side furnished the conditions necessary for a regular exchange. The upper stage of barbarism introduced a new division of labor between agriculture and handicrafts, resulting in the production of a continually increasing amount of commodities for the special purpose of exchange, so that exchange between individuals became a vital function of society. Civilization strengthened and intensified all the established divisions of labor, especially by rendering the contrast between city and country more pronounced. Either the town may have the economic control over the country, as during antiquity, or vice versa, as in the middle ages. A third division of labor was added by civilization: it created a class that did not take part in production, but occupied itself merely with the exchange of products--the merchants. All former attempts at class formation were exclusively concerned with production. They divided the producers into directors and directed, or into producers on a more or less extensive scale. But here a class appears for the first time that captures the control of production in general and subjugates the producers to its rule, without taking the least part in production. A class that makes itself the indispensable mediator between two producers and exploits them both under the pretext of saving them the trouble and risk of exchange, of extending the markets for their products to distant regions, and of thus becoming the most useful class in society; a class of parasites, genuine social ichneumons, that skim the cream off production at home and abroad as a reward for very insignificant services; that rapidly amass enormous wealth and gain social influence accordingly; that for this reason reap ever new honors and ever greater control of production during the period of civilization, until they at last bring to light a product of their own--periodical crises in industry. At the stage of production under discussion, our young merchant class had no inkling as yet of the great future that was in store for them. But they continued to organize, to make themselves invaluable, and that was sufficient for the moment. At the same time metal coins came into use, and through them a new device for controlling the producers and their products. The commodity of commodities that was hiding all other commodities in its mysterious bosom had been discovered, a charm that could be transformed at will into any desirable or coveted thing. Whoever held it in his possession had the world of production at his command. And who had it above all others? The merchant. In his hands the cult of money was safe. He took care to make it plain that all commodities, and hence all producers, must prostrate themselves in adoration before money. He proved by practice that all other forms of wealth are reduced to thin wraiths before this personification of riches. Never again did the power of money show itself in such primordial brutality and violence as in its youthful days. After the sale of commodities for money came the borrowing of money, resulting in interest and usury. And no legislation of any later period stretches the debtor so mercilessly at the feet of the speculating creditor as the antique Grecian and Roman codes--both of them spontaneous products of habit, without any other than economic pressure. The wealth in commodities and slaves was now further increased by large holdings in land. The titles of the individuals to the lots of land formerly assigned to them by the gens or tribe had become so well established, that these lots were now owned and inherited. What the individuals had most desired of late was the liberation from the claim of the gentiles to their lots, a claim which had become a veritable fetter for them. They were rid of this fetter--but soon after they were also rid of their lots. The full, free ownership of the soil implied not only the possibility of uncurtailed possession, but also of selling the soil. As long as the soil belonged to the gens, this was impossible. But when the new land owner shook off the chains of the priority claim of the gens and tribe, he also tore the bond that had so long tied him indissolubly to the soil. What that meant was impressed on him by the money invented simultaneously with the advent of private property in land. The soil could now become a commodity to be bought and sold. Hardly had private ownership of land been introduced, when the mortgage put in its appearance (see Athens). As hetaerism and prostitution clung to the heels of monogamy, so does from now on the mortgage to private ownership in land. You have clamored for free, full, saleable land. Well, then, there you have it--tu l'as voulu, Georges Dandin; it was your own wish, George Dandin. Industrial expansion, money, usury, private land, and mortgage thus progressed with the concentration and centralization of wealth in the hands of a small class, accompanied by the increasing impoverishment of the masses and the increasing mass of paupers. The new aristocracy of wealth, so far as it did not coincide with the old tribal nobility, forced the latter permanently into the background (in Athens, in Rome, among the Germans). And this division of free men into classes according to their wealth was accompanied, especially in Greece, by an enormous increase in the number of slaves[38] whose forced labor formed the basis on which the whole superstructure of society was reared. Let us now see what became of the gentile constitution through this revolution of society. Gentilism stood powerless in the face of the new elements that had grown without its assistance. It was dependent on the condition that the members of a gens, or of a tribe, should live together in the same territory and be its exclusive inhabitants. That had long ceased to be the case. Gentes and tribes were everywhere hopelessly intermingled, slaves, clients, and foreigners lived among citizens. The capacity for settling down permanently which had only been acquired near the end of the middle stage of barbarism, was time and again sidetracked by the necessity of changing the abode according to the dictates of commerce, different occupations and the transfer of land. The members of the gentile organizations could no longer meet for the purpose of taking care of their common interests. Only matters of little importance, such as religious festivals, were still observed in an indifferent way. Beside the wants and interests for the care of which the gentile organs were appointed and fitted, new wants and interests had arisen from the revolution of the conditions of existence and the resulting change in social classification. These new wants and interests were not only alien to the old gentile order, but thwarted it in every way. The interests of the craftsmen created by division of labor, and the special necessities of a town differing from those of the country, required new organs. But every one of these groups was composed of people from different gentes, phratries, and tribes; they included even strangers. Hence the new organs necessarily had to form outside of the gentile constitution. But by the side of it meant against it. And again, in every gentile organization the conflict of interests made itself felt and reached its climax by combining rich and poor, usurers and debtors, in the same gens and tribe. There was furthermore the mass of inhabitants who were strangers to the gentiles. These strangers could become very powerful, as in Rome, and they were too numerous to be gradually absorbed by the gentes and tribes. The gentiles confronted these masses as a compact body of privileged individuals. What had once been a natural democracy, had been transformed into an odious aristocracy. The gentile constitution had grown out of a society that did not know any internal contradictions, and it was only adapted to such a society. It had no coërcive power except public opinion. But now a society had developed that by force of all its economic conditions of existence divided humanity into freemen and slaves, and exploiting rich and exploited poor. A society that not only could never reconcile these contradictions, but drove them ever more to a climax. Such a society could only exist by a continual open struggle of all classes against one another, or under the supremacy of a third power that under a pretense of standing above the struggling classes stifled their open conflict and permitted a class struggle only on the economic field, in a so-called "legal" form. Gentilism had ceased to live. It was crushed by the division of labor and by its result, the division of society into classes. It was replaced by the State. * * * * * In preceding chapters we have shown by three concrete examples the three main forms in which the state was built up on the ruins of gentilism. Athens represented the simplest, the classic type: the state grew directly and mainly out of class divisions that developed within gentile society. In Rome the gentile organization became an exclusive aristocracy amid a numerous plebs of outsiders who had only duties, but no rights. The victory of the plebs burst the old gentile order asunder and erected on its remains the state which soon engulfed both gentile aristocracy and plebs. Finally, among the German conquerors of the Roman empire, the state grew as a direct result of the conquest of large foreign territories which the gentile constitution was powerless to control. But this conquest did not necessitate either a serious fight with the former population or a more advanced division of labor. Conquerors and conquered were almost in the same stage of economic development, so that the economic basis of society remained undisturbed. Hence gentilism could preserve for many centuries an unchanged territorial character in the form of mark communes, and even rejuvenate itself in the nobility and patrician families of later years, or in the peasantry, as e. g. in Dithmarsia.[39] The state, then, is by no means a power forced on society from outside; neither is it the "realization of the ethical idea," "the image and the realization of reason," as Hegel maintains. It is simply a product of society at a certain stage of evolution. It is the confession that this society has become hopelessly divided against itself, has entangled itself in irreconcilable contradictions which it is powerless to banish. In order that these contradictions, these classes with conflicting economic interests, may not annihilate themselves and society in a useless struggle, a power becomes necessary that stands apparently above society and has the function of keeping down the conflicts and maintaining "order." And this power, the outgrowth of society, but assuming supremacy over it and becoming more and more divorced from it, is the state. The state differs from gentilism in that it first divides its members by territories. As we have seen, the old bonds of blood kinship uniting the gentile bodies had become inefficient, because they were dependent on the condition, now no longer a fact, that all gentiles should live on a certain territory. The territory was the same; but the human beings had changed. Hence the division by territories was chosen as the point of departure, and citizens had to exercise their rights and duties wherever they chose their abode without regard to gens and tribe. This organization of inhabitants by localities is a common feature of all states. It seems natural to us now. But we have seen what long and hard fighting was required before it could take, in Athens and Rome, the place of the old organization by blood kinship. In the second place, the state created a public power of coërcion that did no longer coincide with the old self-organized and armed population. This special power of coërcion is necessary, because a self-organized army of the people has become impossible since the division of society into classes took place. For the slaves belonged also to society. The 90,000 citizens of Athens formed only a privileged class compared to the 365,000 slaves. The popular army of the Athenian democracy was an aristocratic public power designed to keep the slaves down. But we have seen that a police force became also necessary to maintain order among the citizens. This public power of coërcion exists in every state. It is not composed of armed men alone, but has also such objects as prisons and correction houses attached to it, that were unknown to gentilism. It may be very small, almost infinitesimal, in societies with feebly developed class antagonisms and in out of the way places, as was once the case in certain regions of the United States. But it increases in the same ratio in which the class antagonisms become more pronounced, and in which neighboring states become larger and more populous. A conspicuous example is modern Europe, where the class struggles and wars of conquest have nursed the public power to such a size that it threatens to swallow the whole society and the state itself. In order to maintain this public power, contributions of the citizens become necessary--the taxes. These were absolutely unknown in gentile society. But to-day we get our full measure of them. As civilization makes further progress, these taxes are no longer sufficient to cover public expenses. The state makes drafts on the future, contracts loans, public debts. Old Europe can tell a story of them. In possession of the public power and of the right of taxation, the officials in their capacity as state organs are now exalted above society. The free and voluntary respect that was accorded to the organs of gentilism does not satisfy them any more, even if they might have it. Representatives of a power that is divorced from society, they must enforce respect by exceptional laws that render them specially sacred and inviolable.[40] The lowest police employee of the civilized state has more "authority" than all the organs of gentilism combined. But the mightiest prince and the greatest statesman or general of civilization may look with envy on the spontaneous and undisputed esteem that was the privilege of the least gentile sachem. The one stands in the middle of society, the other is forced to assume a position outside and above it. The state is the result of the desire to keep down class conflicts. But having arisen amid these conflicts, it is as a rule the state of the most powerful economic class that by force of its economic supremacy becomes also the ruling political class and thus acquires new means of subduing and exploiting the oppressed masses. The antique state was, therefore, the state of the slave owners for the purpose of holding the slaves in check. The feudal state was the organ of the nobility for the oppression of the serfs and dependent farmers. The modern representative state is the tool of the capitalist exploiters of wage labor. At certain periods it occurs exceptionally that the struggling classes balance each other so nearly that the public power gains a certain degree of independence by posing as the mediator between them. The absolute monarchy of the seventeenth and eighteenth century was in such a position, balancing the nobles and the burghers against one another. So was the Bonapartism of the first, and still more of the second, empire, playing the proletariat against the bourgeoisie and vice versa. The latest performance of this kind, in which ruler and ruled appear equally ridiculous, is the new German empire of Bismarckian make, in which capitalists and laborers are balanced against one another and equally cheated for the benefit of the degenerate Prussian cabbage junkers.[41] In most of the historical states, the rights of the citizens are differentiated according to their wealth. This is a direct confirmation of the fact that the state is organized for the protection of the possessing against the non-possessing classes. The Athenian and Roman classification by incomes shows this. It is also seen in the medieval state of feudalism in which the political power depended on the quantity of real estate. It is again seen in the electoral qualifications of the modern representative state. The political recognition of the differences in wealth is by no means essential. On the contrary, it marks a low stage of state development. The highest form of the state, the democratic republic, knows officially nothing of property distinctions.[42] It is that form of the state which under modern conditions of society becomes more and more an unavoidable necessity. The last decisive struggle between proletariat and bourgeoisie can only be fought out under this state form.[43] In such a state, wealth exerts its power indirectly, but all the more safely. This is done partly in the form of direct corruption of officials, after the classical type of the United States, or in the form of an alliance between government and bankers which is established all the more easily when the public debt increases and when corporations concentrate in their hands not only the means of transportation, but also production itself, using the stock exchange as a center. The United States and the latest French republic are striking examples, and good old Switzerland has contributed its share to illustrate this point. That a democratic republic is not necessary for this fraternal bond between stock exchange and government is proved by England and last, not least, Germany, where it is doubtful whether Bismarck or Bleichroeder was more favored by the introduction of universal suffrage.[44] The possessing class rules directly through universal suffrage. For as long as the oppressed class, in this case the proletariat, is not ripe for its economic emancipation, just so long will its majority regard the existing order of society as the only one possible, and form the tail, the extreme left wing, of the capitalist class. But the more the proletariat matures toward its self-emancipation, the more does it constitute itself as a separate class and elect its own representatives in place of the capitalists. Universal suffrage is the gauge of the maturity of the working class. It can and will never be anything else but that in the modern state. But that is sufficient. On the day when the thermometer of universal suffrage reaches its boiling point among the laborers, they as well as the capitalists will know what to do. The state, then, did not exist from all eternity. There have been societies without it, that had no idea of any state or public power. At a certain stage of economic development, which was of necessity accompanied by a division of society into classes, the state became the inevitable result of this division. We are now rapidly approaching a stage of evolution in production, in which the existence of classes has not only ceased to be a necessity, but becomes a positive fetter on production. Hence these classes must fall as inevitably as they once arose. The state must irrevocably fall with them. The society that is to reorganize production on the basis of a free and equal association of the producers, will transfer the machinery of state where it will then belong: into the Museum of Antiquities by the side of the spinning wheel and the bronze ax. * * * * * Civilization is, as we have seen, that stage of society, in which the division of labor, the resulting exchange between individuals, and the production of commodities combining them, reach their highest development and revolutionize the whole society. The production of all former stages of society was mainly collective, and consumption was carried on by direct division of products within more or less small communes. This collective production was confined within the narrowest limits. But it implied the control of production and of the products by the producers. They knew what became of their product: it did not leave their hands until it was consumed by them. As long as production moved on this basis, it could not grow beyond the control of the producers, and it could not create any strange ghostly forces against them. Under civilization, however, this is the inevitable rule. Into the simple process of production, the division of labor was gradually interpolated. It undermined the communism of production and consumption, it made the appropriation of products by single individuals the prevailing rule, and thus introduced the exchange between individuals, in the manner mentioned above. Gradually, the production of commodities became the rule. This mode of production for exchange, not for home consumption, necessarily passes the products on from hand to hand. The producer gives his product away in exchange. He does no longer know what becomes of it. With the advent of money and of the trader who steps in as a middleman between the producers, the process of exchange becomes still more complicated. The fate of the products becomes still more uncertain. The number of merchants is great and one does not know what the other is doing. The products now pass not only from hand to hand, but also from market to market. The producers have lost the control of the aggregate production in their sphere of life, and the merchants have not yet acquired this control. Products and production become the victims of chance. But chance is only one pole of an interrelation, the other pole of which is called necessity. In nature, where chance seems to reign also, we have long ago demonstrated the innate necessity and law that determines the course of chance on every line. But what is true of nature, holds also good of society. Whenever a social function or a series of social processes become too powerful for the control of man, whenever they grow beyond the grasp of man and seem to be left to mere chance, then the peculiar and innate laws of such processes shape the course of chance with increased elementary necessity. Such laws also control the vicissitudes of the production and exchange of commodities. For the individual producer and exchanger, these laws are strange, and often unknown, forces, the nature of which must be laboriously investigated and ascertained. These economic laws of production are modified by the different stages of this form of production. But generally speaking, the entire period of civilization is dominated by these laws. To this day, the product controls the producer. To this day, the aggregate production of society is managed, not on a uniform plan, but by blind laws, that rule with elementary force and find their final expression in the storms of periodical commercial crises. We have seen that human labor power is enabled at a very early stage of production to produce considerably more than is needed to maintain the producer. We have found that this stage coïncided in general with the first appearance of the division of labor and of exchange between individuals. Now, it was not long before the great truth was discovered that man may himself be a commodity, and that human labor power may be exchanged and exploited by transforming a man into a slave. Hardly had exchange between men been established, when men themselves were also exchanged. The active asset became a passive liability, whether man wanted it or not. Slavery, which reaches its highest development in civilization, introduced the first great division of an exploited and an exploiting class into society. This division continued during the whole period of civilization. Slavery is the first form of exploitation, characteristic of the antique world. Then followed feudalism in the middle ages, and wage labor in recent times. These are the three great forms of servitude, characteristic of the three great epochs of civilization. Their invariable mark is either open or, in modern times, disguised slavery. The stage of commodity production introducing civilization is marked economically by the introduction of (1) metal coins and, thus, of money as capital, of interest, and of usury; (2) merchants as middlemen between producers; (3) private property and mortgage; (4) slave labor as the prevailing form of production. The form of the family corresponding to civilization and becoming its pronounced custom is monogamy, the supremacy of man over woman, and the monogamous family as the economic unit of society. The aggregation of civilized society is the state, which throughout all typical periods is the state of the ruling class, and in all cases mainly a machine for controlling the oppressed and exploited class. Civilization is furthermore characterized on one side by the permanent introduction of the contrast between city and country as the basis of the entire division of social labor; on the other side by the introduction of the testament by which the property holder is enabled to dispose of his property beyond the hour of his death. This institution is a direct blow at the gentile constitution, and was unknown in Athens until the time of Solon. In Rome it was introduced very early, but we do not know when.[45] In Germany it was originated by the priests in order that the honest German might bequeath his property to the church without any interference. With this fundamental constitution, civilization had accomplished things for which the old gentile society was no match whatever. But these exploits were accomplished by playing on the most sordid passions and instincts of man, and by developing them at the expense of all his other gifts. Barefaced covetousness was the moving spirit of civilization from its first dawn to the present day; wealth, and again wealth, and for the third time wealth; wealth, not of society, but of the puny individual, was its only and final aim. If nevertheless the advanced development of science, and at repeated times the highest flower of art, fell into its lap, this was only due to the fact that without them the highest emoluments of modern wealth would have been missing. Exploitation of one class by another being the basis of civilization, its whole development involves a continual contradiction. Every progress of production is at the same time a retrogression in the condition of the oppressed class, that is of the great majority. Every benefit for one class is necessarily an evil for the other, every new emancipation of one class a new oppression for the other. The most drastic proof of this is furnished by the introduction of machinery, the effects of which are well known to-day. And while there is hardly any distinction between rights and duties among barbarians, as we have seen, civilization makes the difference between these two plain even to the dullest mind. For now one class has nearly all the rights, the other class nearly all the duties. But this is not admitted. What is good for the ruling class, is alleged to be good for the whole of society with which the ruling class identifies itself. The more civilization advances, the more it is found to cover with the cloak of charity the evils necessarily created by it, to excuse them or to deny their existence, in short to introduce a conventional hypocrisy that culminates in the declaration: The exploitation of the oppressed class is carried on by the exploiting class solely in the interest of the exploited class itself. And if the latter does not recognize this, but even becomes rebellious, it is simply the worst ingratitude to its benefactors, the exploiters.[46] And now, in conclusion, let me add Morgan's judgment of civilization (Ancient Society, page 552): "Since the advent of civilization, the outgrowth of property has been so immense, its forms so diversified, its uses so expanding and its management so intelligent in the interest of its owners that it has become, on the part of the people, an unmanageable power. The human mind stands bewildered in the presence of its own creation. The time will come, nevertheless, when human intelligence will rise to the mastery over property, and define the relations of the state to the property it protects, as well as the obligations and the limits of the rights of its owners. The interests of society are paramount to individual interests, and the two must be brought into just and harmonious relations. A mere property career is not the final destiny of mankind, if progress is to be the law of the future as it has been of the past. The time which has passed away since civilization began is but a fragment of the past duration of man's existence; and but a fragment of the ages yet to come. The dissolution of society bids fair to become the termination of a career of which property is the end and aim, because such a career contains the elements of self-destruction. Democracy in government, brotherhood in society, equality in rights and privileges, and universal education, foreshadow the next higher plane of society to which experience, intelligence and knowledge are steadily tending. It will be a revival, in a higher form, of the liberty, equality and fraternity of the ancient gentes." THE END. FOOTNOTES: [37] Author's note. Especially on the northwest coast of America; see Bancroft. Among the Haidahs of the Queen Charlotte Islands some households gather as many as 700 members under one roof. Among the Nootkas whole tribes lived under one roof. [38] Author's note. The number of slaves in Athens was 365,000. In Corinth it was 460,000 at the most flourishing time, and 470,000 in Aegina; in both cases ten times the number of free citizens. [39] Author's note. The first historian who had at least a vague conception of the nature of the gens was Niebuhr, thanks to his familiarity with the Dithmarsian families. The same source, however, is also responsible for his errors. [40] Translator's note. The recent demand for a law declaring the person of the U. S. President sacred above all other representatives of the public power and making an assault on him an exceptional crime is a very good case in point. [41] Translator's note. "Junker" is a contemptuous term for the land-owning nobility. [42] Translator's note. In the United States, the poll tax is an indirect property qualification, as it strikes those who, through lack of employment, sickness or invalidity, are unable to spare the amount, however small, of this tax. Furthermore, the laws requiring a continuous residence in the precinct, the town, the county, and the State as a qualification for voters have the effect of disqualifying a great number of workingmen who are forced to change their abode according to their opportunities for employment. And the educational qualifications which especially the Southern States are rigidly enforcing tend to disfranchise the great mass of the negroes, who form the main body of the working class in those States. [43] Translator's note. In Belgium, where the proletariat is now on the verge of gaining political supremacy, the battle cry is: "S. U. et R. P." (Suffrage Universelle et Representation Proportionelle). [44] Translator's note. Suffrage in Germany, though universal for men is by no means equal, but founded on property qualifications. In Prussia, e. g., a three class system of voting is in force which is best illustrated by the following figures: In 1898 there were 6,447,253 voters; 3.26 per cent belonged to the first class, 11.51 per cent to the second class, and 85.35 per cent to the third class. But the 947,218 voters of the first and second classes had twice as many votes as the five and a half millions of the third class. [45] Author's note. Lassalle's "System of Acquired Rights" argues in its second part mainly the proposition that the Roman testament is as old as Rome itself, and that there has never been in Roman history "a time without a testament." According to him, the testament had its origin in pre-Roman times in the cult of the departed. Lassalle, as a convinced Hegelian of the old school, derives the provisions of the Roman law, not from the social condition of the Romans, but from the "speculative conception" of will, and thus arrives at this totally anti-historic conclusion. This is not to be wondered at in a book that draws from the same speculative conception the conclusion that the transfer of property was purely a side issue in Roman inheritance. Lassalle not only believed in the illusions of Roman jurists, especially of the earlier ones, but he outstripped their fancy. [46] Author's note. I first intended to place the brilliant critique of civilization, scattered through the works of Fourier, by the side of Morgan's and of my own. Unluckily I cannot spare the time. I only wish to remark that Fourier already considers monogamy and private property in land the main characteristics of civilization, and that he calls them a war of the rich against the poor. We also find with him the deep perception that the individual families (les families incoherentes) are the economic units of all faulty societies divided by opposing interests. 22910 ---- Everyman, I will go with thee, and be thy guide, In thy most need to go by thy side. This is No. 734 of Everyman's Library. A list of authors and their works in this series will be found at the end of this volume. The publishers will be pleased to send freely to all applicants a separate, annotated list of the Library. J. M. DENT & SONS LIMITED 10-13 BEDFORD STREET LONDON W.C.2 E. P. DUTTON & CO. INC. 286-302 FOURTH AVENUE NEW YORK EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS HISTORY ANCIENT LAW BY SIR HENRY JAMES SUMNER MAINE INTRODUCTION BY PROF. J. H. MORGAN SIR HENRY JAMES SUMNER MAINE, the son of a doctor, born 1822 in India. Educated at Christ's Hospital and Pembroke College, Cambridge. In 1847 professor of civil law at Cambridge; 1850, called to the Bar. Member of Indian Council for seven years. Died at Cannes, 1888. ANCIENT LAW [Illustration] SIR HENRY MAINE LONDON: J. M. DENT & SONS LTD. NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO. INC. _All rights reserved Made in Great Britain at The Temple Press Letchworth and decorated by Eric Ravilious for J. M. Dent & Sons Ltd. Aldine House Bedford St. London First Published in this Edition 1917 Reprinted 1927, 1931, 1936_ INTRODUCTION No one who is interested in the growth of human ideas or the origins of human society can afford to neglect Maine's _Ancient Law_. Published some fifty-six years ago it immediately took rank as a classic, and its epoch-making influence may not unfitly be compared to that exercised by Darwin's _Origin of Species_. The revolution effected by the latter in the study of biology was hardly more remarkable than that effected by Maine's brilliant treatise in the study of early institutions. Well does one of Maine's latest and most learned commentators say of his work that "he did nothing less than create the natural history of law." This is only another way of saying that he demonstrated that our legal conceptions--using that term in its largest sense to include social and political institutions--are as much the product of historical development as biological organisms are the outcome of evolution. This was a new departure, inasmuch as the school of jurists, represented by Bentham and Austin, and of political philosophers, headed by Hobbes, Locke, and their nineteenth-century disciples, had approached the study of law and political society almost entirely from an unhistoric point of view and had substituted dogmatism for historical investigation. They had read history, so far as they troubled to read it at all, "backwards," and had invested early man and early society with conceptions which, as a matter of fact, are themselves historical products. The jurists, for example, had in their analysis of legal sovereignty postulated the commands of a supreme lawgiver by simply ignoring the fact that, in point of time, custom precedes legislation and that early law is, to use Maine's own phrase, "a habit" and not a conscious exercise of the volition of a lawgiver or a legislature. The political philosophers, similarly, had sought the origin of political society in a "state of nature"--humane, according to Locke and Rousseau, barbarous, according to Hobbes--in which men freely subscribed to an "original contract" whereby each submitted to the will of all. It was not difficult to show, as Maine has done, that contract--_i.e._ the recognition of a mutual agreement as binding upon the parties who make it--is a conception which comes very late to the human mind. But Maine's work covers much wider ground than this. It may be summed up by saying that he shows that early society, so far as we have any recognisable legal traces of it, begins with the group, not with the individual. This group was, according to Maine's theory, the Family--that is to say the Family as resting upon the patriarchal power of the father to whom all its members, wife, sons, daughters, and slaves, were absolutely subject. This, the central feature of Maine's speculation, is worked out with infinite suggestiveness and great felicity of style in chapter V. ("Primitive Society and Ancient Law") of the present work, and his chief illustrations are sought in the history of Roman law. The topics of the other chapters are selected largely with a view to supplying confirmation of the theory in question and, as we shall see in a moment, Maine's later works do but serve to carry the train of reasoning a step further by the use of the Comparative Method in invoking evidence from other sources, notably from Irish and Hindu Law. Let us, however, confine ourselves for the moment to "Ancient Law." Maine works out the implications of his theory by showing that it, and it alone, can serve to explain such features of early Roman law as Agnation, _i.e._ the tracing of descent exclusively through males, and Adoption, _i.e._ the preservation of the family against the extinction of male heirs. The perpetual tutelage of women is the consequence of this position. Moreover, all the members of the family, except its head, are in a condition best described as _status_: they have no power to acquire property, or to bequeath it, or to enter into contracts in relation to it. The traces of this state of society are clearly visible in the pages of that classical text-book of Roman Law, the _Institutes_ of Justinian,[1] compiled in the sixth century A.D., though equally visible is the disintegration wrought in it by the reforming activity of the praetor's edicts. That reformation followed the course of a gradual emancipation of the members of the family, except those under age, from the despotic authority of the father. This gradual substitution of the Individual for the Family was effected in a variety of ways, but in none more conspicuously than by the development of the idea of contract, _i.e._ of the capacity of the individual to enter into independent agreements with strangers to his family-group by which he was legally bound--an historical process which Maine sums up in his famous aphorism that the movement of progressive societies has hitherto been a movement from Status to Contract. In the chapters on the early history of Wills, Property, and Contract, Maine supports his theory by showing that it is the key which unlocks many, if not all, of the problems which those topics present. The chapter on Wills--particularly the passage in which he explains what is meant by Universal Succession--is a brilliant example of Maine's analytic power. He shows that a Will--in the sense of a secret and revocable disposition of property only taking effect after the death of the testator--is a conception unknown to early law, and that it makes its first appearance as a means of transmitting the exercise of domestic sovereignty, the transfer of the property being only a subsidiary feature; wills only being permitted, in early times, in cases where there was likely to be a failure of proper heirs. The subsequent popularity of wills, and the indulgence with which the law came to regard them, were due to a desire to correct the rigidity of the Patria Potestas, as reflected in the law of intestate succession, by giving free scope to natural affection. In other words, the conception of relationship as reckoned only through males, and as resting on the continuance of the children within their father's power, gave way, through the instrumentality of the will, to the more modern and more natural conception of relationship. In the chapter on Property Maine again shows that the theory of its origin in occupancy is too individualistic and that not separate ownership but joint ownership is the really archaic institution. The father was in some sense (we must avoid importing modern terms) the trustee of the joint property of the family. Here Maine makes an excursion into the fields of the Early Village Community, and has, too, to look elsewhere than to Rome, where the village community had already been transformed by coalescence into the city-state. He therefore seeks his examples from India and points to the Indian village as an example of the expansion of the family into a larger group of co-proprietors, larger but still bearing traces of its origin to the patriarchal power. And, to quote his own words, "the most important passage in the history of Private Property is its gradual separation from the co-ownership of kinsmen." The chapter on Contract, although it contains some of Maine's most suggestive writing, and the chapter on Delict and Crime, have a less direct bearing on his main thesis except in so far as they go to show that the reason why there is so little in early law of what we call civil, as distinct from criminal, law, and in particular of the Law of Contract, is to be found in the fact that, in the infancy of society, the Law of Persons, and with it the law of civil rights, is merged in the common subjection to Paternal Power. Such, putting it in the simplest possible language, is the main argument of _Ancient Law_. The exigencies of space and of simplicity compel me to pass by, to a large extent, most of the other topics with which Maine deals--the place of custom, code, and fiction in the development of early law, the affiliation of international Law to the _Jus Gentium_ and the Law of Nature, the origins of feudalism and of primogeniture, the early history of delict and crime, and that most remarkable and profound passage in which Maine shows the heavy debt of the various sciences to Roman law and the influence which it has exerted on the vocabulary of political science, the concepts of moral philosophy, and the doctrines of theology. I must confine myself to two questions: how far did Maine develop or modify in his subsequent writings the main thesis of _Ancient Law_? to what extent has this thesis stood the test of the criticism and research of others? As regards the first point, it is to be remembered that _Ancient Law_ is but the first, though doubtless the most important, of a whole series of works by its author on the subject of early law. It was followed at intervals by three volumes: _Village Communities in the East and West_, _Early Institutions_, and _Early Law and_ _Custom_. In the first of these he dealt with a subject which has excited an enormous degree of attention and not a little controversy among English, French, German, and Russian scholars,[2] amounting as it does to nothing less than an investigation into the origin of private property in land. The question has been put in various forms: did it commence with joint (or, as some would put it, less justifiably, communal or corporate) ownership or with individual ownership, and again was the village community free or servile? It is now pretty generally recognised that there was more than one type, though common cultivation was doubtless a feature of them all, and even in India there were at least two types, of which the one presenting several, as opposed to communal, ownership is not the less ancient. But it may well be that, as Maitland so often pointed out, much of the controversy has been literally an anachronism; that is to say, that nineteenth-century men have been asking the Early Ages questions which they could not answer and reading back into early history distinctions which are themselves historical products. Ownership is itself a late abstraction developed out of use. We may say with some certainty that family "ownership" preceded individual ownership, but in what sense there was communal ownership by a whole village it is not so easy to say. Maine was on surer ground when, as in his studies of Irish and Hindu law, he confined himself to the more immediate circle of the family group. In his _Early Institutions_ he subjects the Brehon Laws of early Ireland to a suggestive examination as presenting an example of Celtic law largely unaffected by Roman influences. He there shows, as he has shown in _Ancient Law_, that in early times the only social brotherhood recognised was that of kinship, and that almost every form of social organisation, tribe, guild, and religious fraternity, was conceived of under a similitude of it. Feudalism converted the village community, based on a real or assumed consanguinity of its members, into the fief in which the relations of tenant and lord were those of contract, while those of the unfree tenant rested on status. In his _Early Law and Custom_ he pursues much the same theme by an examination of Hindu Law as presenting a peculiarly close implication of early law with religion. Here he devotes his attention chiefly to Ancestor-worship, a subject which about this time had engaged the attention, as regards its Greek and Roman forms, of that brilliant Frenchman, Fustel de Coulanges, whose monograph _La Cité Antique_ is now a classic. As is well known, the right of inheriting a dead man's property and the duty of performing his obsequies are co-relative to this day in Hindu law, and his investigation of this subject brings Maine back to the subject of the Patriarchal Power. He points out that both worshipper and the object of worship were exclusively males, and concludes that it was the power of the father which generated the practice of worshipping him, while this practice in turn, by the gradual admission of women to participate in the ceremonies, gradually acted as a solvent upon the power itself. The necessity of finding some one to perform these rites, on failure of direct male heirs, marked the beginning of the recognition of a right in women to inherit. The conception of the family becomes less intense and more extensive. These discussions brought Maine, in chapter VII. of _Early Law and Custom_, to reconsider the main theory of _Ancient Law_ in the light of the criticism to which it had been exposed, and every reader of _Ancient Law_ who desires to understand Maine's exact position in regard to the scope of his generalisations should read for himself the chapter in the later work entitled "Theories of Primitive Society." His theory of the patriarchal power had been criticised by two able and industrious anthropologists, M'Lennan and Morgan, who, by their investigation of "survivals" among barbarous tribes in our own day, had arrived at the conclusion that, broadly speaking, the normal process through which society had passed was not patriarchal but "matriarchal," _i.e._ understanding by that term a system in which descent is traced through females. It would take up far too much space to enter into this controversy in detail. It is sufficient to say that the counter-theory rested on the assumption that society originated not in families, based on the authority of the father and relationship through him, but in promiscuous hordes among whom the only certain fact, and, consequently, the only recognised basis of relationship, was maternity. Maine's answer to this was that his generalisations as to the prevalence of the patriarchal power were confined to Indo-European races, and that he did not pretend to dogmatise about other races, also that he was dealing not with all societies but all that had any permanence. He argues that the promiscuous horde, where and when it is found, is to be explained as an abnormal case of retrogression due to a fortuitous scarcity of females resulting in polyandry, and he opposes to the theory of its predominance the potency of sexual jealousy which might serve as only another name for the patriarchal power. On the whole the better opinion is certainly with Maine. His theory, at any rate, alone accords with a view of society so soon as it is seen to possess any degree of civilisation and social cohesion. It will be seen that Maine's work, like that of most great thinkers, presents a singular coherence and intellectual elegance. It is distinguished also by an extraordinary wide range of vision. He lays under contribution with equal felicity and suggestiveness the Old Testament, the Homeric poems, the Latin dramatists, the laws of the Barbarians, the sacerdotal laws of the Hindus, the oracles of the Brehon caste, and the writings of the Roman jurists. In other words, he was a master of the Comparative Method. Few writers have thrown so much light on the development of the human mind in its social relations. We know now--a hundred disciples have followed in Maine's footsteps and applied his teaching--how slow is the growth of the human intellect in these matters, with what painful steps man learns to generalise, how convulsively he clings in the infancy of civilisation to the formal, the material, the realistic aspects of things, how late he develops such abstractions as "the State." In all this Maine first showed the way. As Sir Frederick Pollock has admirably put it-- Nowadays it may be said that "all have got the seed," but this is no justification for forgetting who first cleared and sowed the ground. We may till fields that the master left untouched, and one man will bring a better ox to yoke to the plough, and another a worse; but it is the master's plough still. We may conclude with some remarks on Maine's views of the contemporary problems of political society. Maine was what, for want of a better term, may be called a Conservative, and, indeed, it may be doubted whether, with the single exception of Burke, any English writer has done more to provide English Conservatives with reasons for the faith that is in them. He has set forth his views in a collection of polemical essays under the title of _Popular Government_, which were given to the world in book form in 1885. He viewed the advent of Democracy with more distrust than alarm--he appears to have thought it a form of government which could not last--and he has an unerring eye for its weaknesses.[3] Indeed, his remarks on the facility with which Democracy yields itself to manipulation by wire-pullers, newspapers, and demagogues, have found not a little confirmation in such studies of the actual working of democratic government as M. Ostrogorski's _Democracy and the Organisation of Political Parties_. Maine emphasised the tyranny of majorities, the enslavement of untutored minds by political catchwords, their susceptibility to "suggestion," their readiness to adopt vicarious opinion in preference to an intellectual exercise of their own volition. It is not surprising that the writer who had subjected the theories of the Social Contract to such merciless criticism sighed for a scientific analysis of political terms as the first step to clear thinking about politics. Here he was on strong ground, but for such an analysis we have yet to wait.[4] He seems to have placed his hopes in the adoption of some kind of written constitution which, like the American prototype, would safeguard us from fundamental changes by the caprice of a single assembly. But this is not the place to pursue such highly debateable matters. Enough if we say that the man who wishes to serve an apprenticeship to an intelligent understanding of the political society of the present cannot do better than begin by a careful study of Maine's researches into the political society of the past. J.H. MORGAN. _Note._--The reader who desires to study Maine in the light of modern criticism is recommended to read Sir F. Pollock's "Notes on Maine's _Ancient Law_" (published by John Murray at 2_s._ 6_d._, or, with the text, at 5_s._). The best short study of Maine with which I am acquainted is the article by Professor Vinogradoff in the _Law Quarterly Review_ for April 1904. The field of research covered by Maine in his various writings is so vast that it is impossible to refer the reader, except at great length, to anything like an adequate list of later books on the subjects of his investigation. In addition to the works on the Village Community mentioned in a previous footnote, I may, however, refer the beginner to Mr. Edward Jenks' little book on _The History of Politics_ in Dent's Primers, to Professor Ashley's translation of a fragment of Fustel de Coulanges under the title of _The Origin of Property in Land_, and to Sir Frederick Pollock's brilliant little book, _The Expansion of the Common Law_. The reader is also recommended to study Mr. H.A.L. Fisher's succinct survey of the contributions of Maitland to legal history under the title of _F.W. Maitland; an Appreciation_ (Cambridge University Press). One of the most brilliant and ingenious studies of the origins of European civilisation is to be found in the work of the great German jurist, Ihering, _Die Vorgeschichte der Indo-Europder_, translated into English under the title of _The Early History of the Indo-European Races_ (Sonnenschein, 1897). [1] The reader who desires to pursue the subject by reference to one of Maine's chief authorities is recommended to read the translation of the _Institutes_ by Sandars. [2] English literature on the subject is best studied in Maitland's _Domesday Book and Beyond_, Vinogradoff's _The Growth of the Manor_ and _Villeinage in England_ (with an excellent historical introduction), and Seebohm's _English Village Community_. [3] Witness the characteristic sentence: "On the whole they [_i.e._ the studies of earlier society] suggest that the differences which, after ages of change, separate the civilised man from savage or barbarian, are not so great as the vulgar opinion would have them.... Like the savage, he is a man of party with a newspaper for a totem ... and like a savage he is apt to make of his totem his God." [4] Something of the kind was done many years ago by Sir George Cornewall Lewis in his little book on the _Use and Abuse of Political Terms_. I have attempted to carry the task a step farther in an article which appeared in the form of a review of Lord Morley's "History and Politics" in the _Nineteenth Century_ for March 1913. BIBLIOGRAPHY Navis ornate atque armata in aquam deducitur (Prize Poem), 1842; The Birth of the Prince of Wales (Prize Poem), 1842; Cæsar ad Rubiconem constitit (Prize Poem), 1842; Memoir of H.F. Hallam, 1851; Roman Law and Legal Education (Essay), 1856; Ancient Law: its Connection with the Early History of Society and its Relation to Modern Ideas, 1861; Short Essays and Reviews on the Educational Policy of the Government of India, 1866; Village Communities in the East and West (Lectures), 1871; The Early History of the Property of Married Women as collected from Roman and Hindoo Law (Lecture), 1873; The Effects of Observation of India on Modern European Thought (Lecture), 1875; Lectures on the Early History of Institutions, 1875; Village Communities, etc.; third ed. with other Lectures and Addresses, 1876; Dissertations on Early Law and Custom (selected from Lectures), 1883; Popular Government (four Essays), 1885; India [1837-1887] (in "The Reign of Queen Victoria," ed. by Thos. Humphry Ward, vol. i.), 1887; The Whewell Lectures: International Law, 1887, 1888; Ancient Law (ed. with introduction and notes by Sir Frederick Pollock), 1906; Ancient Law (Allahabad ed., with introduction by K.C. Banerji), 1912. Contributions to: "Morning Chronicle," 1851; "Cornhill Magazine," 1871; "Quarterly Review," 1886; "Saturday Review," and "St. James's Gazette." A brief memoir of the life of Sir Henry Maine, by Sir M.E. Grant Duff; with some of his Indian speeches and minutes, selected by Whitley Stokes, 1892. PREFACE The chief object of the following pages is to indicate some of the earliest ideas of mankind, as they are reflected in Ancient Law, and to point out the relation of those ideas to modern thought. Much of the inquiry attempted could not have been prosecuted with the slightest hope of a useful result if there had not existed a body of law, like that of the Romans, bearing in its earliest portions the traces of the most remote antiquity and supplying from its later rules the staple of the civil institutions by which modern society is even now controlled. The necessity of taking the Roman law as a typical system has compelled the author to draw from it what may appear a disproportionate number of his illustrations; but it has not been his intention to write a treatise on Roman jurisprudence, and he has as much as possible avoided all discussions which might give that appearance to his work. The space allotted in the third and fourth chapters to certain philosophical theories of the Roman Jurisconsults has been appropriated to them for two reasons. In the first place, those theories appear to the author to have had a wider and more permanent influence on the thought and action of the world than is usually supposed. Secondly, they are believed to be the ultimate source of most of the views which have been prevalent, till quite recently, on the subjects treated of in this volume. It was impossible for the author to proceed far with his undertaking without stating his opinion on the origin, meaning, and value of those speculations. H.S.M. LONDON, _January 1861_. CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. ANCIENT CODES 1 II. LEGAL FICTIONS 13 III. LAW OF NATURE AND EQUITY 26 IV. THE MODERN HISTORY OF THE LAW OF NATURE 43 V. PRIMITIVE SOCIETY AND ANCIENT LAW 67 VI. THE EARLY HISTORY OF TESTAMENTARY SUCCESSION 101 VII. ANCIENT AND MODERN IDEAS RESPECTING WILLS AND SUCCESSIONS 127 VIII. THE EARLY HISTORY OF PROPERTY 144 IX. THE EARLY HISTORY OF CONTRACT 179 X. THE EARLY HISTORY OF DELICT AND CRIME 216 INDEX 235 CHAPTER I ANCIENT CODES The most celebrated system of jurisprudence known to the world begins, as it ends, with a Code. From the commencement to the close of its history, the expositors of Roman Law consistently employed language which implied that the body of their system rested on the Twelve Decemviral Tables, and therefore on a basis of written law. Except in one particular, no institutions anterior to the Twelve Tables were recognised at Rome. The theoretical descent of Roman jurisprudence from a code, the theoretical ascription of English law to immemorial unwritten tradition, were the chief reasons why the development of their system differed from the development of ours. Neither theory corresponded exactly with the facts, but each produced consequences of the utmost importance. I need hardly say that the publication of the Twelve Tables is not the earliest point at which we can take up the history of law. The ancient Roman code belongs to a class of which almost every civilised nation in the world can show a sample, and which, so far as the Roman and Hellenic worlds were concerned, were largely diffused over them at epochs not widely distant from one another. They appeared under exceedingly similar circumstances, and were produced, to our knowledge, by very similar causes. Unquestionably, many jural phenomena lie behind these codes and preceded them in point of time. Not a few documentary records exist which profess to give us information concerning the early phenomena of law; but, until philology has effected a complete analysis of the Sanskrit literature, our best sources of knowledge are undoubtedly the Greek Homeric poems, considered of course not as a history of actual occurrences, but as a description, not wholly idealised, of a state of society known to the writer. However the fancy of the poet may have exaggerated certain features of the heroic age, the prowess of warriors and the potency of gods, there is no reason to believe that it has tampered with moral or metaphysical conceptions which were not yet the subjects of conscious observation; and in this respect the Homeric literature is far more trustworthy than those relatively later documents which pretend to give an account of times similarly early, but which were compiled under philosophical or theological influences. If by any means we can determine the early forms of jural conceptions, they will be invaluable to us. These rudimentary ideas are to the jurist what the primary crusts of the earth are to the geologist. They contain, potentially, all the forms in which law has subsequently exhibited itself. The haste or the prejudice which has generally refused them all but the most superficial examination, must bear the blame of the unsatisfactory condition in which we find the science of jurisprudence. The inquiries of the jurist are in truth prosecuted much as inquiry in physics and physiology was prosecuted before observation had taken the place of assumption. Theories, plausible and comprehensive, but absolutely unverified, such as the Law of Nature or the Social Compact, enjoy a universal preference over sober research into the primitive history of society and law; and they obscure the truth not only by diverting attention from the only quarter in which it can be found, but by that most real and most important influence which, when once entertained and believed in, they are enabled to exercise on the later stages of jurisprudence. The earliest notions connected with the conception, now so fully developed, of a law or rule of life, are those contained in the Homeric words "Themis" and "Themistes." "Themis," it is well known, appears in the later Greek pantheon as the Goddess of Justice, but this is a modern and much developed idea, and it is in a very different sense that Themis is described in the Iliad as the assessor of Zeus. It is now clearly seen by all trustworthy observers of the primitive condition of mankind that, in the infancy of the race, men could only account for sustained or periodically recurring action by supposing a personal agent. Thus, the wind blowing was a person and of course a divine person; the sun rising, culminating, and setting was a person and a divine person; the earth yielding her increase was a person and divine. As, then, in the physical world, so in the moral. When a king decided a dispute by a sentence, the judgment was assumed to be the result of direct inspiration. The divine agent, suggesting judicial awards to kings or to gods, the greatest of kings, was _Themis_. The peculiarity of the conception is brought out by the use of the plural. _Themistes_, Themises, the plural of _Themis_, are the awards themselves, divinely dictated to the judge. Kings are spoken of as if they had a store of "Themistes" ready to hand for use; but it must be distinctly understood that they are not laws, but judgments. "Zeus, or the human king on earth," says Mr. Grote, in his History of Greece, "is not a lawmaker, but a judge." He is provided with Themistes, but, consistently with the belief in their emanation from above, they cannot be supposed to be connected by any thread of principle; they are separate, isolated judgments. Even in the Homeric poems, we can see that these ideas are transient. Parities of circumstance were probably commoner in the simple mechanism of ancient society than they are now, and in the succession of similar cases awards are likely to follow and resemble each other. Here we have the germ or rudiment of a Custom, a conception posterior to that of Themistes or judgments. However strongly we, with our modern associations, may be inclined to lay down _à priori_ that the notion of a Custom must precede that of a judicial sentence, and that a judgment must affirm a Custom or punish its breach, it seems quite certain that the historical order of the ideas is that in which I have placed them. The Homeric word for a custom in the embryo is sometimes "Themis" in the singular--more often "Dike," the meaning of which visibly fluctuates between a "judgment" and a "custom" or "usage." [Greek: Nomos], a Law, so great and famous a term in the political vocabulary of the later Greek society, does not occur in Homer. This notion of a divine agency, suggesting the Themistes, and itself impersonated in Themis, must be kept apart from other primitive beliefs with which a superficial inquirer might confound it. The conception of the Deity dictating an entire code or body of law, as in the case of the Hindoo laws of Menu, seems to belong to a range of ideas more recent and more advanced. "Themis" and "Themistes" are much less remotely linked with that persuasion which clung so long and so tenaciously to the human mind, of a divine influence underlying and supporting every relation of life, every social institution. In early law, and amid the rudiments of political thought, symptoms of this belief meet us on all sides. A supernatural presidency is supposed to consecrate and keep together all the cardinal institutions of those times, the State, the Race, and the Family. Men, grouped together in the different relations which those institutions imply, are bound to celebrate periodically common rites and to offer common sacrifices; and every now and then the same duty is even more significantly recognised in the purifications and expiations which they perform, and which appear intended to deprecate punishment for involuntary or neglectful disrespect. Everybody acquainted with ordinary classical literature will remember the _sacra gentilicia_, which exercised so important an influence on the early Roman law of adoption and of wills. And to this hour the Hindoo Customary Law, in which some of the most curious features of primitive society are stereotyped, makes almost all the rights of persons and all the rules of succession hinge on the due solemnisation of fixed ceremonies at the dead man's funeral, that is, at every point where a breach occurs in the continuity of the family. Before we quit this stage of jurisprudence, a caution may be usefully given to the English student. Bentham, in his _Fragment on Government_, and Austin, in his _Province of Jurisprudence Determined_, resolve every law into a _command_ of the lawgiver, _an obligation_ imposed thereby on the citizen, and a _sanction_ threatened in the event of disobedience; and it is further predicated of the _command_, which is the first element in a law, that it must prescribe, not a single act, but a series or number of acts of the same class or kind. The results of this separation of ingredients tally exactly with the facts of mature jurisprudence; and, by a little straining of language, they may be made to correspond in form with all law, of all kinds, at all epochs. It is not, however, asserted that the notion of law entertained by the generality is even now quite in conformity with this dissection; and it is curious that, the farther we penetrate into the primitive history of thought, the farther we find ourselves from a conception of law which at all resembles a compound of the elements which Bentham determined. It is certain that, in the infancy of mankind, no sort of legislature, not even a distinct author of law, is contemplated or conceived of. Law has scarcely reached the footing of custom; it is rather a habit. It is, to use a French phrase, "in the air." The only authoritative statement of right and wrong is a judicial sentence after the facts, not one presupposing a law which has been violated, but one which is breathed for the first time by a higher power into the judge's mind at the moment of adjudication. It is of course extremely difficult for us to realise a view so far removed from us in point both of time and of association, but it will become more credible when we dwell more at length on the constitution of ancient society, in which every man, living during the greater part of his life under the patriarchal despotism, was practically controlled in all his actions by a regimen not of law but of caprice. I may add that an Englishman should be better able than a foreigner to appreciate the historical fact that the "Themistes" preceded any conception of law, because, amid the many inconsistent theories which prevail concerning the character of English jurisprudence, the most popular, or at all events the one which most affects practice, is certainly a theory which assumes that adjudged cases and precedents exist antecedently to rules, principles, and distinctions. The "Themistes" have too, it should be remarked, the characteristic which, in the view of Bentham and Austin, distinguishes single or mere commands from laws. A true law enjoins on all the citizens indifferently a number of acts similar in class or kind; and this is exactly the feature of a law which has most deeply impressed itself on the popular mind, causing the term "law" to be applied to mere uniformities, successions, and similitudes. A _command_ prescribes only a single act, and it is to commands, therefore, that "Themistes" are more akin than to laws. They are simply adjudications on insulated states of fact, and do not necessarily follow each other in any orderly sequence. The literature of the heroic age discloses to us law in the germ under the "Themistes" and a little more developed in the conception of "Dike." The next stage which we reach in the history of jurisprudence is strongly marked and surrounded by the utmost interest. Mr. Grote, in the second part and second chapter of his History, has fully described the mode in which society gradually clothed itself with a different character from that delineated by Homer. Heroic kingship depended partly on divinely given prerogative, and partly on the possession of supereminent strength, courage, and wisdom. Gradually, as the impression of the monarch's sacredness became weakened, and feeble members occurred in the series of hereditary kings, the royal power decayed, and at last gave way to the dominion of aristocracies. If language so precise can be used of the revolution, we might say that the office of the king was usurped by that council of chiefs which Homer repeatedly alludes to and depicts. At all events from an epoch of kingly rule we come everywhere in Europe to an era of oligarchies; and even where the name of the monarchical functions does not absolutely disappear, the authority of the king is reduced to a mere shadow. He becomes a mere hereditary general, as in Lacedæmon, a mere functionary, as the King Archon at Athens, or a mere formal hierophant, like the _Rex Sacrificulus_ at Rome. In Greece, Italy, and Asia Minor, the dominant orders seem to have universally consisted of a number of families united by an assumed relationship in blood, and, though they all appear at first to have laid claim to a quasi-sacred character, their strength does not seem to have resided in their pretended sanctity. Unless they were prematurely overthrown by the popular party, they all ultimately approached very closely to what we should now understand by a political aristocracy. The changes which society underwent in the communities of the further Asia occurred of course at periods long anterior in point of time to these revolutions of the Italian and Hellenic worlds; but their relative place in civilisation appears to have been the same, and they seem to have been exceedingly similar in general character. There is some evidence that the races which were subsequently united under the Persian monarchy, and those which peopled the peninsula of India, had all their heroic age and their era of aristocracies; but a military and a religious oligarchy appear to have grown up separately, nor was the authority of the king generally superseded. Contrary, too, to the course of events in the West, the religious element in the East tended to get the better of the military and political. Military and civil aristocracies disappear, annihilated or crushed into insignificance between the kings and the sacerdotal order; and the ultimate result at which we arrive is, a monarch enjoying great power, but circumscribed by the privileges of a caste of priests. With these differences, however, that in the East aristocracies became religious, in the West civil or political, the proposition that a historical era of aristocracies succeeded a historical era of heroic kings may be considered as true, if not of all mankind, at all events of all branches of the Indo-European family of nations. The important point for the jurist is that these aristocracies were universally the depositaries and administrators of law. They seem to have succeeded to the prerogatives of the king, with the important difference, however, that they do not appear to have pretended to direct inspiration for each sentence. The connection of ideas which caused the judgments of the patriarchal chieftain to be attributed to superhuman dictation still shows itself here and there in the claim of a divine origin for the entire body of rules, or for certain parts of it, but the progress of thought no longer permits the solution of particular disputes to be explained by supposing an extra-human interposition. What the juristical oligarchy now claims is to monopolise the _knowledge_ of the laws, to have the exclusive possession of the principles by which quarrels are decided. We have in fact arrived at the epoch of Customary Law. Customs or Observances now exist as a substantive aggregate, and are assumed to be precisely known to the aristocratic order or caste. Our authorities leave us no doubt that the trust lodged with the oligarchy was sometimes abused, but it certainly ought not to be regarded as a mere usurpation or engine of tyranny. Before the invention of writing, and during the infancy of the art, an aristocracy invested with judicial privileges formed the only expedient by which accurate preservation of the customs of the race or tribe could be at all approximated to. Their genuineness was, so far as possible, insured by confiding them to the recollection of a limited portion of the community. The epoch of Customary Law, and of its custody by a privileged order, is a very remarkable one. The condition of the jurisprudence which it implies has left traces which may still be detected in legal and popular phraseology. The law, thus known exclusively to a privileged minority, whether a caste, an aristocracy, a priestly tribe, or a sacerdotal college is true unwritten law. Except this, there is no such thing as unwritten law in the world. English case-law is sometimes spoken of as unwritten, and there are some English theorists who assure us that if a code of English jurisprudence were prepared we should be turning unwritten law into written--a conversion, as they insist, if not of doubtful policy, at all events of the greatest seriousness. Now, it is quite true that there was once a period at which the English common law might reasonably have been termed unwritten. The elder English judges did really pretend to knowledge of rules, principles, and distinctions which were not entirely revealed to the bar and to the lay-public. Whether all the law which they claimed to monopolise was really unwritten, is exceedingly questionable; but at all events, on the assumption that there was once a large mass of civil and criminal rules known exclusively to the judges, it presently ceased to be unwritten law. As soon as the Courts at Westminster Hall began to base their judgments on cases recorded, whether in the year books or elsewhere, the law which they administered became written law. At the present moment a rule of English law has first to be disentangled from the recorded facts of adjudged printed precedents, then thrown into a form of words varying with the taste, precision, and knowledge of the particular judge, and then applied to the circumstances of the case for adjudication. But at no stage of this process has it any characteristic which distinguishes it from written law. It is written case-law, and only different from code-law because it is written in a different way. From the period of Customary Law we come to another sharply defined epoch in the history of jurisprudence. We arrive at the era of Codes, those ancient codes of which the Twelve Tables of Rome were the most famous specimen. In Greece, in Italy, on the Hellenised sea-board of Western Asia, these codes all made their appearance at periods much the same everywhere, not, I mean, at periods identical in point of time, but similar in point of the relative progress of each community. Everywhere, in the countries I have named, laws engraven on tablets and published to the people take the place of usages deposited with the recollection of a privileged oligarchy. It must not for a moment be supposed that the refined considerations now urged in favour of what is called codification had any part or place in the change I have described. The ancient codes were doubtless originally suggested by the discovery and diffusion of the art of writing. It is true that the aristocracies seem to have abused their monopoly of legal knowledge; and at all events their exclusive possession of the law was a formidable impediment to the success of those popular movements which began to be universal in the western world. But, though democratic sentiment may have added to their popularity, the codes were certainly in the main a direct result of the invention of writing. Inscribed tablets were seen to be a better depositary of law, and a better security for its accurate preservation, than the memory of a number of persons however strengthened by habitual exercise. The Roman code belongs to the class of codes I have been describing. Their value did not consist in any approach to symmetrical classifications, or to terseness and clearness of expression, but in their publicity, and in the knowledge which they furnished to everybody, as to what he was to do, and what not to do. It is, indeed, true that the Twelve Tables of Rome do exhibit some traces of systematic arrangement, but this is probably explained by the tradition that the framers of that body of law called in the assistance of Greeks who enjoyed the later Greek experience in the art of law-making. The fragments of the Attic Code of Solon show, however, that it had but little order, and probably the laws of Draco had even less. Quite enough too remains of these collections, both in the East and in the West, to show that they mingled up religious, civil, and merely moral ordinances, without any regard to differences in their essential character; and this is consistent with all we know of early thought from other sources, the severance of law from morality, and of religion from law, belonging very distinctly to the _later_ stages of mental progress. But, whatever to a modern eye are the singularities of these Codes, their importance to ancient societies was unspeakable. The question--and it was one which affected the whole future of each community--was not so much whether there should be a code at all, for the majority of ancient societies seem to have obtained them sooner or later, and, but for the great interruption in the history of jurisprudence created by feudalism, it is likely that all modern law would be distinctly traceable to one or more of these fountain-heads. But the point on which turned the history of the race was, at what period, at what stage of their social progress, they should have their laws put into writing. In the western world the plebeian or popular element in each state successfully assailed the oligarchical monopoly, and a code was nearly universally obtained _early_ in the history of the Commonwealth. But in the East, as I have before mentioned, the ruling aristocracies tended to become religious rather than military or political, and gained, therefore, rather than lost in power; while in some instances the physical conformation of Asiatic countries had the effect of making individual communities larger and more numerous than in the West; and it is a known social law that the larger the space over which a particular set of institutions is diffused, the greater is its tenacity and vitality. From whatever cause, the codes obtained by Eastern societies were obtained, relatively, much later than by Western, and wore a very different character. The religious oligarchies of Asia, either for their own guidance, or for the relief of their memory, or for the instruction of their disciples, seem in all cases to have ultimately embodied their legal learning in a code; but the opportunity of increasing and consolidating their influence was probably too tempting to be resisted. Their complete monopoly of legal knowledge appears to have enabled them to put off on the world collections, not so much of the rules actually observed as of the rules which the priestly order considered proper to be observed. The Hindoo code, called the Laws of Menu, which is certainly a Brahmin compilation, undoubtedly enshrines many genuine observances of the Hindoo race, but the opinion of the best contemporary orientalists is, that it does not, as a whole, represent a set of rules ever actually administered in Hindostan. It is, in great part, an ideal picture of that which, in the view of the Brahmins, _ought_ to be the law. It is consistent with human nature and with the special motives of their authors, that codes like that of Menu should pretend to the highest antiquity and claim to have emanated in their complete form from the Deity. Menu, according to Hindoo mythology, is an emanation from the supreme God; but the compilation which bears his name, though its exact date is not easily discovered, is, in point of the relative progress of Hindoo jurisprudence, a recent production. Among the chief advantages which the Twelve Tables and similar codes conferred on the societies which obtained them, was the protection which they afforded against the frauds of the privileged oligarchy and also against the spontaneous depravation and debasement of the national institutions. The Roman Code was merely an enunciation in words of the existing customs of the Roman people. Relatively to the progress of the Romans in civilisation, it was a remarkably early code, and it was published at a time when Roman society had barely emerged from that intellectual condition in which civil obligation and religious duty are inevitably confounded. Now a barbarous society practising a body of customs, is exposed to some especial dangers which may be absolutely fatal to its progress in civilisation. The usages which a particular community is found to have adopted in its infancy and in its primitive seats are generally those which are on the whole best suited to promote its physical and moral well-being; and, if they are retained in their integrity until new social wants have taught new practices, the upward march of society is almost certain. But unhappily there is a law of development which ever threatens to operate upon unwritten usage. The customs are of course obeyed by multitudes who are incapable of understanding the true ground of their expediency, and who are therefore left inevitably to invent superstitious reasons for their permanence. A process then commences which may be shortly described by saying that usage which is reasonable generates usage which is unreasonable. Analogy, the most valuable of instruments in the maturity of jurisprudence, is the most dangerous of snares in its infancy. Prohibitions and ordinances, originally confined, for good reasons, to a single description of acts, are made to apply to all acts of the same class, because a man menaced with the anger of the gods for doing one thing, feels a natural terror in doing any other thing which is remotely like it. After one kind of food has been interdicted for sanitary reasons, the prohibition is extended to all food resembling it, though the resemblance occasionally depends on analogies the most fanciful. So, again, a wise provision for insuring general cleanliness dictates in time long routines of ceremonial ablution; and that division into classes which at a particular crisis of social history is necessary for the maintenance of the national existence degenerates into the most disastrous and blighting of all human institutions--Caste. The fate of the Hindoo law is, in fact, the measure of the value of the Roman code. Ethnology shows us that the Romans and the Hindoos sprang from the same original stock, and there is indeed a striking resemblance between what appear to have been their original customs. Even now, Hindoo jurisprudence has a substratum of forethought and sound judgment, but irrational imitation has engrafted in it an immense apparatus of cruel absurdities. From these corruptions the Romans were protected by their code. It was compiled while the usage was still wholesome, and a hundred years afterwards it might have been too late. The Hindoo law has been to a great extent embodied in writing, but, ancient as in one sense are the compendia which still exist in Sanskrit, they contain ample evidence that they were drawn up after the mischief had been done. We are not of course entitled to say that if the Twelve Tables had not been published the Romans would have been condemned to a civilisation as feeble and perverted as that of the Hindoos, but thus much at least is certain, that _with_ their code they were exempt from the very chance of so unhappy a destiny. CHAPTER II LEGAL FICTIONS When primitive law has once been embodied in a Code, there is an end to what may be called its spontaneous development. Henceforward the changes effected in it, if effected at all, are effected deliberately and from without. It is impossible to suppose that the customs of any race or tribe remained unaltered during the whole of the long--in some instances the immense--interval between their declaration by a patriarchal monarch and their publication in writing. It would be unsafe too to affirm that no part of the alteration was effected deliberately. But from the little we know of the progress of law during this period, we are justified in assuming that set purpose had the very smallest share in producing change. Such innovations on the earliest usages as disclose themselves appear to have been dictated by feelings and modes of thought which, under our present mental conditions, we are unable to comprehend. A new era begins, however, with the Codes. Wherever, after this epoch, we trace the course of legal modification we are able to attribute it to the conscious desire of improvement, or at all events of compassing objects other than those which were aimed at in the primitive times. It may seem at first sight that no general propositions worth trusting can be elicited from the history of legal systems subsequent to the codes. The field is too vast. We cannot be sure that we have included a sufficient number of phenomena in our observations, or that we accurately understand those which we have observed. But the undertaking will be seen to be more feasible, if we consider that after the epoch of codes the distinction between stationary and progressive societies begins to make itself felt. It is only with the progressive that we are concerned, and nothing is more remarkable than their extreme fewness. In spite of overwhelming evidence, it is most difficult for a citizen of western Europe to bring thoroughly home to himself the truth that the civilisation which surrounds him is a rare exception in the history of the world. The tone of thought common among us, all our hopes, fears, and speculations, would be materially affected, if we had vividly before us the relation of the progressive races to the totality of human life. It is indisputable that much the greatest part of mankind has never shown a particle of desire that its civil institutions should be improved since the moment when external completeness was first given to them by their embodiment in some permanent record. One set of usages has occasionally been violently overthrown and superseded by another; here and there a primitive code, pretending to a supernatural origin, has been greatly extended, and distorted into the most surprising forms, by the perversity of sacerdotal commentators; but, except in a small section of the world, there has been nothing like the gradual amelioration of a legal system. There has been material civilisation, but, instead of the civilisation expanding the law, the law has limited the civilisation. The study of races in their primitive condition affords us some clue to the point at which the development of certain societies has stopped. We can see that Brahminical India has not passed beyond a stage which occurs in the history of all the families of mankind, the stage at which a rule of law is not yet discriminated from a rule of religion. The members of such a society consider that the transgression of a religious ordinance should be punished by civil penalties, and that the violation of a civil duty exposes the delinquent to divine correction. In China this point has been passed, but progress seems to have been there arrested, because the civil laws are coextensive with all the ideas of which the race is capable. The difference between the stationary and progressive societies is, however, one of the great secrets which inquiry has yet to penetrate. Among partial explanations of it I venture to place the considerations urged at the end of the last chapter. It may further be remarked that no one is likely to succeed in the investigation who does not clearly realise that the stationary condition of the human race is the rule, the progressive the exception. And another indispensable condition of success is an accurate knowledge of Roman law in all its principal stages. The Roman jurisprudence has the longest known history of any set of human institutions. The character of all the changes which it underwent is tolerably well ascertained. From its commencement to its close, it was progressively modified for the better, or for what the authors of the modification conceived to be the better, and the course of improvement was continued through periods at which all the rest of human thought and action materially slackened its pace, and repeatedly threatened to settle down into stagnation. I confine myself in what follows to the progressive societies. With respect to them it may be laid down that social necessities and social opinion are always more or less in advance of Law. We may come indefinitely near to the closing of the gap between them, but it has a perpetual tendency to reopen. Law is stable; the societies we are speaking of are progressive. The greater or less happiness of a people depends on the degree of promptitude with which the gulf is narrowed. A general proposition of some value may be advanced with respect to the agencies by which Law is brought into harmony with society. These instrumentalities seem to me to be three in number, Legal Fictions, Equity, and Legislation. Their historical order is that in which I have placed them. Sometimes two of them will be seen operating together, and there are legal systems which have escaped the influence of one or other of them. But I know of no instance in which the order of their appearance has been changed or inverted. The early history of one of them, Equity, is universally obscure, and hence it may be thought by some that certain isolated statutes, reformatory of the civil law, are older than any equitable jurisdiction. My own belief is that remedial Equity is everywhere older than remedial Legislation; but, should this be not strictly true, it would only be necessary to limit the proposition respecting their order of sequence to the periods at which they exercise a sustained and substantial influence in transforming the original law. I employ the word "fiction" in a sense considerably wider than that in which English lawyers are accustomed to use it, and with a meaning much more extensive than that which belonged to the Roman "fictiones." Fictio, in old Roman law, is properly a term of pleading, and signifies a false averment on the part of the plaintiff which the defendant was not allowed to traverse; such, for example, as an averment that the plaintiff was a Roman citizen, when in truth he was a foreigner. The object of these "fictiones" was, of course, to give jurisdiction, and they therefore strongly resembled the allegations in the writs of the English Queen's Bench, and Exchequer, by which those Courts contrived to usurp the jurisdiction of the Common Pleas:--the allegation that the defendant was in custody of the king's marshal, or that the plaintiff was the king's debtor, and could not pay his debt by reason of the defendant's default. But I now employ the expression "Legal Fiction" to signify any assumption which conceals, or affects to conceal, the fact that a rule of law has undergone alteration, its letter remaining unchanged, its operation being modified. The words, therefore, include the instances of fictions which I have cited from the English and Roman law, but they embrace much more, for I should speak both of the English Case-law and of the Roman Responsa Prudentum as resting on fictions. Both these examples will be examined presently. The _fact_ is in both cases that the law has been wholly changed; the _fiction_ is that it remains what it always was. It is not difficult to understand why fictions in all their forms are particularly congenial to the infancy of society. They satisfy the desire for improvement, which is not quite wanting, at the same time that they do not offend the superstitious disrelish for change which is always present. At a particular stage of social progress they are invaluable expedients for overcoming the rigidity of law, and, indeed, without one of them, the Fiction of Adoption which permits the family tie to be artificially created, it is difficult to understand how society would ever have escaped from its swaddling clothes, and taken its first steps towards civilisation. We must, therefore, not suffer ourselves to be affected by the ridicule which Bentham pours on legal fictions wherever he meets them. To revile them as merely fraudulent is to betray ignorance of their peculiar office in the historical development of law. But at the same time it would be equally foolish to agree with those theorists, who, discerning that fictions have had their uses, argue that they ought to be stereotyped in our system. They have had their day, but it has long since gone by. It is unworthy of us to effect an admittedly beneficial object by so rude a device as a legal fiction. I cannot admit any anomaly to be innocent, which makes the law either more difficult to understand or harder to arrange in harmonious order. Now legal fictions are the greatest of obstacles to symmetrical classification. The rule of law remains sticking in the system, but it is a mere shell. It has been long ago undermined, and a new rule hides itself under its cover. Hence there is at once a difficulty in knowing whether the rule which is actually operative should be classed in its true or in its apparent place, and minds of different casts will differ as to the branch of the alternative which ought to be selected. If the English law is ever to assume an orderly distribution, it will be necessary to prune away the legal fictions which, in spite of some recent legislative improvements, are still abundant in it. The next instrumentality by which the adaptation of law to social wants is carried on I call Equity, meaning by that word any body of rules existing by the side of the original civil law, founded on distinct principles and claiming incidentally to supersede the civil law in virtue of a superior sanctity inherent in those principles. The Equity whether of the Roman Prætors or of the English Chancellors, differs from the Fictions which in each case preceded it, in that the interference with law is open and avowed. On the other hand, it differs from Legislation, the agent of legal improvement which comes after it, in that its claim to authority is grounded, not on the prerogative of any external person or body, not even on that of the magistrate who enunciates it, but on the special nature of its principles, to which it is alleged that all law ought to conform. The very conception of a set of principles, invested with a higher sacredness than those of the original law and demanding application independently of the consent of any external body, belongs to a much more advanced stage of thought than that to which legal fictions originally suggested themselves. Legislation, the enactments of a legislature which, whether it take the form of an autocratic prince or of a parliamentary assembly, is the assumed organ of the entire society, is the last of the ameliorating instrumentalities. It differs from Legal Fictions just as Equity differs from them, and it is also distinguished from Equity, as deriving its authority from an external body or person. Its obligatory force is independent of its principles. The legislature, whatever be the actual restraints imposed on it by public opinion, is in theory empowered to impose what obligations it pleases on the members of the community. There is nothing to prevent its legislating in the wantonness of caprice. Legislation may be dictated by equity, if that last word be used to indicate some standard of right and wrong to which its enactments happen to be adjusted; but then these enactments are indebted for their binding force to the authority of the legislature and not to that of the principles on which the legislature acted; and thus they differ from rules of Equity, in the technical sense of the word, which pretend to a paramount sacredness entitling them at once to the recognition of the courts even without the concurrence of prince or parliamentary assembly. It is the more necessary to note these differences, because a student of Bentham would be apt to confound Fictions, Equity, and Statute law under the single head of legislation. They all, he would say, involve _law-making_; they differ only in respect of the machinery by which the new law is produced. That is perfectly true, and we must never forget it; but it furnishes no reason why we should deprive ourselves of so convenient a term as Legislation in the special sense. Legislation and Equity are disjoined in the popular mind and in the minds of most lawyers; and it will never do to neglect the distinction between them, however conventional, when important practical consequences follow from it. It would be easy to select from almost any regularly developed body of rules examples of _legal fictions_, which at once betray their true character to the modern observer. In the two instances which I proceed to consider, the nature of the expedient employed is not so readily detected. The first authors of these fictions did not perhaps intend to innovate, certainly did not wish to be suspected of innovating. There are, moreover, and always have been, persons who refuse to see any fiction in the process, and conventional language bears out their refusal. No examples, therefore, can be better calculated to illustrate the wide diffusion of legal fictions, and the efficiency with which they perform their two-fold office of transforming a system of laws and of concealing the transformation. We in England are well accustomed to the extension, modification, and improvement of law by a machinery which, in theory, is incapable of altering one jot or one line of existing jurisprudence. The process by which this virtual legislation is effected is not so much insensible as unacknowledged. With respect to that great portion of our legal system which is enshrined in cases and recorded in law reports, we habitually employ a double language and entertain, as it would appear, a double and inconsistent set of ideas. When a group of facts come before an English Court for adjudication, the whole course of the discussion between the judge and the advocate assumes that no question is, or can be, raised which will call for the application of any principles but old ones, or any distinctions but such as have long since been allowed. It is taken absolutely for granted that there is somewhere a rule of known law which will cover the facts of the dispute now litigated, and that, if such a rule be not discovered, it is only that the necessary patience, knowledge, or acumen is not forthcoming to detect it. Yet the moment the judgment has been rendered and reported, we slide unconsciously or unavowedly into a new language and a new train of thought. We now admit that the new decision _has_ modified the law. The rules applicable have, to use the very inaccurate expression sometimes employed, become more elastic. In fact they have been changed. A clear addition has been made to the precedents, and the canon of law elicited by comparing the precedents is not the same with that which would have been obtained if the series of cases had been curtailed by a single example. The fact that the old rule has been repealed, and that a new one has replaced it, eludes us, because we are not in the habit of throwing into precise language the legal formulas which we derive from the precedents, so that a change in their tenor is not easily detected unless it is violent and glaring. I shall not now pause to consider at length the causes which have led English lawyers to acquiesce in these curious anomalies. Probably it will be found that originally it was the received doctrine that somewhere, _in nubibus_ or _in gremio magistratuum_, there existed a complete, coherent, symmetrical body of English law, of an amplitude sufficient to furnish principles which would apply to any conceivable combination of circumstances. The theory was at first much more thoroughly believed in than it is now, and indeed it may have had a better foundation. The judges of the thirteenth century may have really had at their command a mine of law unrevealed to the bar and to the lay-public, for there is some reason for suspecting that in secret they borrowed freely, though not always wisely, from current compendia of the Roman and Canon laws. But that storehouse was closed so soon as the points decided at Westminster Hall became numerous enough to supply a basis for a substantive system of jurisprudence; and now for centuries English practitioners have so expressed themselves as to convey the paradoxical proposition that, except by Equity and Statute law, nothing has been added to the basis since it was first constituted. We do not admit that our tribunals legislate; we imply that they have never legislated; and yet we maintain that the rules of the English common law, with some assistance from the Court of Chancery and from Parliament, are coextensive with the complicated interests of modern society. A body of law bearing a very close and very instructive resemblance to our case-law in those particulars which I have noticed, was known to the Romans under the name of the Responsa Prudentum, the "answers of the learned in the law." The form of these Responses varied a good deal at different periods of the Roman jurisprudence, but throughout its whole course they consisted of explanatory glosses on authoritative written documents, and at first they were exclusively collections of opinions interpretative of the Twelve Tables. As with us, all legal language adjusted itself to the assumption that the text of the old Code remained unchanged. There was the express rule. It overrode all glosses and comments, and no one openly admitted that any interpretation of it, however eminent the interpreter, was safe from revision on appeal to the venerable texts. Yet in point of fact, Books of Responses bearing the names of leading jurisconsults obtained an authority at least equal to that of our reported cases, and constantly modified, extended, limited or practically overruled the provisions of the Decemviral law. The authors of the new jurisprudence during the whole progress of its formation professed the most sedulous respect for the letter of the Code. They were merely explaining it, deciphering it, bringing out its full meaning; but then, in the result, by piecing texts together, by adjusting the law to states of fact which actually presented themselves and by speculating on its possible application to others which might occur, by introducing principles of interpretation derived from the exegesis of other written documents which fell under their observation, they educed a vast variety of canons which had never been dreamed of by the compilers of the Twelve Tables and which were in truth rarely or never to be found there. All these treatises of the jurisconsults claimed respect on the ground of their assumed conformity with the Code, but their comparative authority depended on the reputation of the particular jurisconsults who gave them to the world. Any name of universally acknowledged greatness clothed a Book of Responses with a binding force hardly less than that which belonged to enactments of the legislature; and such a book in its turn constituted a new foundation on which a further body of jurisprudence might rest. The Responses of the early lawyers were not however published, in the modern sense, by their author. They were recorded and edited by his pupils, and were not therefore in all probability arranged according to any scheme of classification. The part of the students in these publications must be carefully noted, because the service they rendered to their teacher seems to have been generally repaid by his sedulous attention to the pupils' education. The educational treatises called Institutes or Commentaries, which are a later fruit of the duty then recognised, are among the most remarkable features of the Roman system. It was apparently in these Institutional works, and not in the books intended for trained lawyers, that the jurisconsults gave to the public their classifications and their proposals for modifying and improving the technical phraseology. In comparing the Roman Responsa Prudentum with their nearest English counterpart, it must be carefully borne in mind that the authority by which this part of the Roman jurisprudence was expounded was not the _bench_, but the _bar_. The decision of a Roman tribunal, though conclusive in the particular case, had no ulterior authority except such as was given by the professional repute of the magistrate who happened to be in office for the time. Properly speaking, there was no institution at Rome during the republic analogous to the English Bench, the Chambers of Imperial Germany, or the Parliaments of Monarchical France. There were magistrates indeed, invested with momentous judicial functions in their several departments, but the tenure of the magistracies was but for a single year, so that they are much less aptly compared to a permanent judicature than to a cycle of offices briskly circulating among the leaders of the bar. Much might be said on the origin of a condition of things which looks to us like a startling anomaly, but which was in fact much more congenial than our own system to the spirit of ancient societies, tending, as they always did, to split into distinct orders which, however exclusive themselves, tolerated no professional hierarchy above them. It is remarkable that this system did not produce certain effects which might on the whole have been expected from it. It did not, for example, _popularise_ the Roman law--it did not, as in some of the Greek republics, lessen the effort of intellect required for the mastery of the science, although its diffusion and authoritative exposition were opposed by no artificial barriers. On the contrary, if it had not been for the operation of a separate set of causes, there were strong probabilities that the Roman jurisprudence would have become as minute, technical, and difficult as any system which has since prevailed. Again, a consequence which might still more naturally have been looked for, does not appear at any time to have exhibited itself. The jurisconsults, until the liberties of Rome were overthrown, formed a class which was quite undefined and must have fluctuated greatly in numbers; nevertheless, there does not seem to have existed a doubt as to the particular individuals whose opinion, in their generation, was conclusive on the cases submitted to them. The vivid pictures of a leading jurisconsult's daily practice which abound in Latin literature--the clients from the country flocking to his antechamber in the early morning, and the students standing round with their note-books to record the great lawyer's replies--are seldom or never identified at any given period with more than one or two conspicuous names. Owing too to the direct contact of the client and the advocate, the Roman people itself seems to have been always alive to the rise and fall of professional reputation, and there is abundance of proof, more particularly in the well-known oration of Cicero, _Pro Muræna_, that the reverence of the commons for forensic success was apt to be excessive rather than deficient. We cannot doubt that the peculiarities which have been noted in the instrumentality by which the development of the Roman law was first effected, were the source of its characteristic excellence, its early wealth in principles. The growth and exuberance of principle was fostered, in part, by the competition among the expositors of the law, an influence wholly unknown where there exists a Bench, the depositaries intrusted by king or commonwealth with the prerogative of justice. But the chief agency, no doubt, was the uncontrolled multiplication of cases for legal decision. The state of facts which caused genuine perplexity to a country client was not a whit more entitled to form the basis of the jurisconsult's Response, or legal decision, than a set of hypothetical circumstances propounded by an ingenious pupil. All combinations of fact were on precisely the same footing, whether they were real or imaginary. It was nothing to the jurisconsult that his opinion was overruled for the moment by the magistrate who adjudicated on his client's case, unless that magistrate happened to rank above him in legal knowledge or the esteem of his profession. I do not, indeed, mean it to be inferred that he would wholly omit to consider his client's advantage, for the client was in earlier times the great lawyer's constituent and at a later period his paymaster, but the main road to the rewards of ambition lay through the good opinion of his order, and it is obvious that under such a system as I have been describing this was much more likely to be secured by viewing each case as an illustration of a great principle, or an exemplification of a broad rule, than by merely shaping it for an insulated forensic triumph. A still more powerful influence must have been exercised by the want of any distinct check on the suggestion or invention of possible questions. Where the data can be multiplied at pleasure, the facilities for evolving a general rule are immensely increased. As the law is administered among ourselves, the judge cannot travel out of the sets of facts exhibited before him or before his predecessors. Accordingly each group of circumstances which is adjudicated upon receives, to employ a Gallicism, a sort of consecration. It acquires certain qualities which distinguish it from every other case genuine or hypothetical. But at Rome, as I have attempted to explain, there was nothing resembling a Bench or Chamber of judges; and therefore no combination of facts possessed any particular value more than another. When a difficulty came for opinion before the jurisconsult, there was nothing to prevent a person endowed with a nice perception of analogy from at once proceeding to adduce and consider an entire class of supposed questions with which a particular feature connected it. Whatever were the practical advice given to the client, the _responsum_ treasured up in the note-books of listening pupils would doubtless contemplate the circumstances as governed by a great principle, or included in a sweeping rule. Nothing like this has ever been possible among ourselves, and it should be acknowledged that in many criticisms passed on the English law the manner in which it has been enunciated seems to have been lost sight of. The hesitation of our courts in declaring principles may be much more reasonably attributed to the comparative scantiness of our precedents, voluminous as they appear to him who is acquainted with no other system, than to the temper of our judges. It is true that in the wealth of legal principle we are considerably poorer than several modern European nations, But they, it must be remembered, took the Roman jurisprudence for the foundation of their civil institutions. They built the _débris_ of the Roman law into their walls; but in the materials, and workmanship of the residue there is not much which distinguishes it favourably from the structure erected by the English judicature. The period of Roman freedom was the period during which the stamp of a distinctive character was impressed on the Roman jurisprudence; and through all the earlier part of it, it was by the Responses of the jurisconsults that the development of the law was mainly carried on. But as we approach the fall of the republic there are signs that the Responses are assuming a form which must have been fatal to their farther expansion. They are becoming systematised and reduced into compendia. Q. Mucius Scævola, the Pontifex, is said to have published a manual of the entire Civil Law, and there are traces in the writings of Cicero of growing disrelish for the old methods, as compared with the more active instruments of legal innovation. Other agencies had in fact by this time been brought to bear on the law. The Edict, or annual proclamation of the Prætor, had risen into credit as the principal engine of law reform, and L. Cornelius Sylla, by causing to be enacted the great group of statutes called the _Leges Corneliæ_, had shown what rapid and speedy improvements can be effected by direct legislation. The final blow to the Responses was dealt by Augustus, who limited to a few leading jurisconsults the right of giving binding opinions on cases submitted to them, a change which, though it brings us nearer the ideas of the modern world, must obviously have altered fundamentally the characteristics of the legal profession and the nature of its influence on Roman law. At a later period another school of jurisconsults arose, the great lights of jurisprudence for all time. But Ulpian and Paulus, Gaius and Papinian, were not authors of Responses. Their works were regular treatises on particular departments of the law, more especially on the Prætor's Edict. The _Equity_ of the Romans and the Prætorian Edict by which it was worked into their system, will be considered in the next chapter. Of the Statute Law it is only necessary to say that it was scanty during the republic, but became very voluminous under the empire. In the youth and infancy of a nation it is a rare thing for the legislature to be called into action for the general reform of private law. The cry of the people is not for change in the laws, which are usually valued above their real worth, but solely for their pure, complete, and easy administration; and recourse to the legislative body is generally directed to the removal of some great abuse, or the decision of some incurable quarrel between classes and dynasties. There seems in the minds of the Romans to have been some association between the enactment of a large body of statutes and the settlement of society after a great civil commotion. Sylla signalised his reconstitution of the republic by the Leges Corneliæ; Julius Cæsar contemplated vast additions to the Statute Law; Augustus caused to be passed the all-important group of Leges Juliæ; and among later emperors the most active promulgators of constitutions are princes who, like Constantine, have the concerns of the world to readjust. The true period of Roman Statute Law does not begin till the establishment of the empire. The enactments of the emperors, clothed at first in the pretence of popular sanction, but afterwards emanating undisguisedly from the imperial prerogative, extend in increasing massiveness from the consolidation of Augustus's power to the publication of the Code of Justinian. It will be seen that even in the reign of the second emperor a considerable approximation is made to that condition of the law and that mode of administering it with which we are all familiar. A statute law and a limited board of expositors have risen into being; a permanent court of appeal and a collection of approved commentaries will very shortly be added; and thus we are brought close on the ideas of our own day. CHAPTER III LAW OF NATURE AND EQUITY The theory of a set of legal principles, entitled by their intrinsic superiority to supersede the older law, very early obtained currency both in the Roman state and in England. Such a body of principles, existing in any system, has in the foregoing chapters been denominated Equity, a term which, as will presently be seen, was one (though only one) of the designations by which this agent of legal change was known to the Roman jurisconsults. The jurisprudence of the Court of Chancery, which bears the name of Equity in England, could only be adequately discussed in a separate treatise. It is extremely complex in its texture and derives its materials from several heterogeneous sources. The early ecclesiastical chancellors contributed to it, from the Canon Law, many of the principles which lie deepest in its structure. The Roman law, more fertile than the Canon Law in rules applicable to secular disputes, was not seldom resorted to by a later generation of Chancery judges, amid whose recorded dicta we often find entire texts from the _Corpus Juris Civilis_ imbedded, with their terms unaltered, though their origin is never acknowledged. Still more recently, and particularly at the middle and during the latter half of the eighteenth century, the mixed systems of jurisprudence and morals constructed by the publicists of the Low Countries appear to have been much studied by English lawyers, and from the chancellorship of Lord Talbot to the commencement of Lord Eldon's chancellorship these works had considerable effect on the rulings of the Court of Chancery. The system, which obtained its ingredients from these various quarters, was greatly controlled in its growth by the necessity imposed on it of conforming itself to the analogies of the common law, but it has always answered the description of a body of comparatively novel legal principles claiming to override the older jurisprudence of the country on the strength of an intrinsic ethical superiority. The Equity of Rome was a much simpler structure, and its development from its first appearance can be much more easily traced. Both its character and its history deserve attentive examination. It is the root of several conceptions which have exercised profound influence on human thought, and through human thought have seriously affected the destinies of mankind. The Romans described their legal system as consisting of two ingredients. "All nations," says the Institutional Treatise published under the authority of the Emperor Justinian, "who are ruled by laws and customs, are governed partly by their own particular laws, and partly by those laws which are common to all mankind. The law which a people enacts is called the Civil Law of that people, but that which natural reason appoints for all mankind is called the Law of Nations, because all nations use it." The part of the law "which natural reason appoints for all mankind" was the element which the Edict of the Prætor was supposed to have worked into Roman jurisprudence. Elsewhere it is styled more simply Jus Naturale, or the Law of Nature; and its ordinances are said to be dictated by Natural Equity (_naturalis æquitas_) as well as by natural reason. I shall attempt to discover the origin of these famous phrases, Law of Nations, Law of Nature, Equity, and to determine how the conceptions which they indicate are related to one another. The most superficial student of Roman history must be struck by the extraordinary degree in which the fortunes of the republic were affected by the presence of foreigners, under different names, on her soil. The causes of this immigration are discernible enough at a later period, for we can readily understand why men of all races should flock to the mistress of the world; but the same phenomenon of a large population of foreigners and denizens meets us in the very earliest records of the Roman State. No doubt, the instability of society in ancient Italy, composed as it was in great measure of robber tribes, gave men considerable inducement to locate themselves in the territory of any community strong enough to protect itself and them from external attack, even though protection should be purchased at the cost of heavy taxation, political disfranchisement, and much social humiliation. It is probable, however, that this explanation is imperfect, and that it could only be completed by taking into account those active commercial relations which, though they are little reflected in the military traditions of the republic, Rome appears certainly to have had with Carthage and with the interior of Italy in pre-historic times. Whatever were the circumstances to which it was attributable, the foreign element in the commonwealth determined the whole course of its history, which, at all its stages, is little more than a narrative of conflicts between a stubborn nationality and an alien population. Nothing like this has been seen in modern times; on the one hand, because modern European communities have seldom or never received any accession of foreign immigrants which was large enough to make itself felt by the bulk of the native citizens, and on the other, because modern states, being held together by allegiance to a king or political superior, absorb considerable bodies of immigrant settlers with a quickness unknown to the ancient world, where the original citizens of a commonwealth always believed themselves to be united by kinship in blood, and resented a claim to equality of privilege as a usurpation of their birthright. In the early Roman republic the principle of the absolute exclusion of foreigners pervaded the Civil Law no less than the Constitution. The alien or denizen could have no share in any institution supposed to be coeval with the State. He could not have the benefit of Quiritarian law. He could not be a party to the _nexum_ which was at once the conveyance and the contract of the primitive Romans. He could not sue by the Sacramental Action, a mode of litigation of which the origin mounts up to the very infancy of civilisation. Still, neither the interest nor the security of Rome permitted him to be quite outlawed. All ancient communities ran the risk of being overthrown by a very slight disturbance of equilibrium, and the mere instinct of self-preservation would force the Romans to devise some method of adjusting the rights and duties of foreigners, who might otherwise--and this was a danger of real importance in the ancient world--have decided their controversies by armed strife. Moreover, at no period of Roman history was foreign trade entirely neglected. It was therefore probably half as a measure of police and half in furtherance of commerce that jurisdiction was first assumed in disputes to which the parties were either foreigners or a native and a foreigner. The assumption of such a jurisdiction brought with it the immediate necessity of discovering some principles on which the questions to be adjudicated upon could be settled, and the principles applied to this object by the Roman lawyers were eminently characteristic of the time. They refused, as I have said before, to decide the new cases by pure Roman Civil Law. They refused, no doubt because it seemed to involve some kind of degradation, to apply the law of the particular State from which the foreign litigant came. The expedient to which they resorted was that of selecting the rules of law common to Rome and to the different Italian communities in which the immigrants were born. In other words, they set themselves to form a system answering to the primitive and literal meaning of Jus Gentium, that is, Law common to all Nations. Jus Gentium was, in fact, the sum of the common ingredients in the customs of the old Italian tribes, for they were _all the nations_ whom the Romans had the means of observing, and who sent successive swarms of immigrants to Roman soil. Whenever a particular usage was seen to be practised by a large number of separate races in common it was set down as part of the Law common to all Nations, or Jus Gentium. Thus, although the conveyance of property was certainly accompanied by very different forms in the different commonwealths surrounding Rome, the actual transfer, tradition, or delivery of the article intended to be conveyed was a part of the ceremonial in all of them. It was, for instance, a part, though a subordinate part, in the Mancipation or conveyance peculiar to Rome. Tradition, therefore, being in all probability the only common ingredient in the modes of conveyance which the jurisconsults had the means of observing, was set down as an institution Juris Gentium, or rule of the Law common to all Nations. A vast number of other observances were scrutinised with the same result. Some common characteristic was discovered in all of them, which had a common object, and this characteristic was classed in the Jus Gentium. The Jus Gentium was accordingly a collection of rules and principles, determined by observation to be common to the institutions which prevailed among the various Italian tribes. The circumstances of the origin of the Jus Gentium are probably a sufficient safeguard against the mistake of supposing that the Roman lawyers had any special respect for it. It was the fruit in part of their disdain for all foreign law, and in part of their disinclination to give the foreigner the advantage of their own indigenous Jus Civile. It is true that we, at the present day, should probably take a very different view of the Jus Gentium, if we were performing the operation which was effected by the Roman jurisconsults. We should attach some vague superiority or precedence to the element which we had thus discerned underlying and pervading so great a variety of usage. We should have a sort of respect for rules and principles so universal. Perhaps we should speak of the common ingredient as being of the essence of the transaction into which it entered, and should stigmatise the remaining apparatus of ceremony, which varied in different communities, as adventitious and accidental. Or it may be, we should infer that the races which we were comparing had once obeyed a great system of common institutions of which the Jus Gentium was the reproduction, and that the complicated usages of separate commonwealths were only corruptions and depravations of the simpler ordinances which had once regulated their primitive state. But the results to which modern ideas conduct the observer are, as nearly as possible, the reverse of those which were instinctively brought home to the primitive Roman. What we respect or admire, he disliked or regarded with jealous dread. The parts of jurisprudence which he looked upon with affection were exactly those which a modern theorist leaves out of consideration as accidental and transitory; the solemn gestures of the mancipation; the nicely adjusted questions and answers of the verbal contract; the endless formalities of pleading and procedure. The Jus Gentium was merely a system forced on his attention by a political necessity. He loved it as little as he loved the foreigners from whose institutions it was derived and for whose benefit it was intended. A complete revolution in his ideas was required before it could challenge his respect, but so complete was it when it did occur, that the true reason why our modern estimate of the Jus Gentium differs from that which has just been described, is that both modern jurisprudence and modern philosophy have inherited the matured views of the later jurisconsults on this subject. There did come a time, when from an ignoble appendage of the Jus Civile, the Jus Gentium came to be considered a great though as yet imperfectly developed model to which all law ought as far as possible to conform. This crisis arrived when the Greek theory of a Law of Nature was applied to the practical Roman administration of the Law common to all Nations. The Jus Naturale, or Law of Nature, is simply the Jus Gentium or Law of Nations seen in the light of a peculiar theory. An unfortunate attempt to discriminate them was made by the jurisconsult Ulpian, with the propensity to distinguish characteristic of a lawyer, but the language of Gaius, a much higher authority, and the passage quoted before from the Institutes leave no room for doubt, that the expressions were practically convertible. The difference between them was entirely historical, and no distinction in essence could ever be established between them. It is almost unnecessary to add that the confusion between Jus Gentium, or Law common to all Nations, and _international law_ is entirely modern. The classical expression for international law is Jus Feciale or the law of negotiation and diplomacy. It is, however, unquestionable that indistinct impressions as to the meaning of Jus Gentium had considerable share in producing the modern theory that the relations of independent states are governed by the Law of Nature. It becomes necessary to investigate the Greek conceptions of nature and her law. The word [Greek: physis], which was rendered in the Latin _natura_ and our _nature_, denoted beyond all doubt originally the material universe, but it was the material universe contemplated under an aspect which--such is our intellectual distance from those times--it is not very easy to delineate in modern language. Nature signified the physical world regarded as the result of some primordial element or law. The oldest Greek philosophers had been accustomed to explain the fabric of creation as the manifestation of some single principle which they variously asserted to be movement, force, fire, moisture, or generation. In its simplest and most ancient sense, Nature is precisely the physical universe looked upon in this way as the manifestation of a principle. Afterwards, the later Greek sects, returning to a path from which the greatest intellects of Greece had meanwhile strayed, added the _moral_ to the _physical_ world in the conception of Nature. They extended the term till it embraced not merely the visible creation, but the thoughts, observances, and aspirations of mankind. Still, as before, it was not solely the moral phenomena of human society which they understood by _Nature_, but these phenomena considered as resolvable into some general and simple laws. Now, just as the oldest Greek theorists supposed that the sports of chance had changed the material universe from its simple primitive form into its present heterogeneous condition, so their intellectual descendants imagined that but for untoward accident the human race would have conformed itself to simpler rules of conduct and a less tempestuous life. To live according to _nature_ came to be considered as the end for which man was created, and which the best men were bound to compass. To live according to _nature_ was to rise above the disorderly habits and gross indulgences of the vulgar to higher laws of action which nothing but self-denial and self-command would enable the aspirant to observe. It is notorious that this proposition--live according to nature--was the sum of the tenets of the famous Stoic philosophy. Now on the subjugation of Greece that philosophy made instantaneous progress in Roman society. It possessed natural fascinations for the powerful class who, in theory at least, adhered to the simple habits of the ancient Italian race, and disdained to surrender themselves to the innovations of foreign fashions. Such persons began immediately to affect the Stoic precepts of life according to nature--an affectation all the more grateful, and, I may add, all the more noble, from its contrast with the unbounded profligacy which was being diffused through the imperial city by the pillage of the world and by the example of its most luxurious races. In the front of the disciples of the new Greek school, we might be sure, even if we did not know it historically, that the Roman lawyers figured. We have abundant proof that, there being substantially but two professions in the Roman republic, the military men were generally identified with the party of movement, but the lawyers were universally at the head of the party of resistance. The alliance of the lawyers with the Stoic philosophers lasted through many centuries. Some of the earliest names in the series of renowned jurisconsults are associated with Stoicism, and ultimately we have the golden age of Roman jurisprudence fixed by general consent at the era of the Antonine Cæsars, the most famous disciples to whom that philosophy has given a rule of life. The long diffusion of these doctrines among the members of a particular profession was sure to affect the art which they practised and influenced. Several positions which we find in the remains of the Roman jurisconsults are scarcely intelligible, unless we use the Stoic tenets as our key; but at the same time it is a serious, though a very common, error to measure the influence of Stoicism on Roman law by counting up the number of legal rules which can be confidently affiliated on Stoical dogmas. It has often been observed that the strength of Stoicism resided not in its canons of conduct, which were often repulsive or ridiculous, but in the great though vague principle which it inculcated of resistance to passion. Just in the same way the influence on jurisprudence of the Greek theories, which had their most distinct expression in Stoicism, consisted not in the number of specific positions which they contributed to Roman law, but in the single fundamental assumption which they lent to it. After nature had become a household word in the mouths of the Romans, the belief gradually prevailed among the Roman lawyers that the old Jus Gentium was in fact the lost code of Nature, and that the Prætor in framing an Edictal jurisprudence on the principles of the Jus Gentium was gradually restoring a type from which law had only departed to deteriorate. The inference from this belief was immediate, that it was the Prætor's duty to supersede the Civil Law as much as possible by the Edict, to revive as far as might be the institutions by which Nature had governed man in the primitive state. Of course, there were many impediments to the amelioration of law by this agency. There may have been prejudices to overcome even in the legal profession itself, and Roman habits were far too tenacious to give way at once to mere philosophical theory. The indirect methods by which the Edict combated certain technical anomalies, show the caution which its authors were compelled to observe, and down to the very days of Justinian there was some part of the old law which had obstinately resisted its influence. But, on the whole, the progress of the Romans in legal improvement was astonishingly rapid as soon as stimulus was applied to it by the theory of Natural Law. The ideas of simplification and generalisation had always been associated with the conception of Nature; simplicity, symmetry, and intelligibility came therefore to be regarded as the characteristics of a good legal system, and the taste for involved language, multiplied ceremonials, and useless difficulties disappeared altogether. The strong will, and unusual opportunities of Justinian were needed to bring the Roman law to its existing shape, but the ground plan of the system had been sketched long before the imperial reforms were effected. What was the exact point of contact between the old Jus Gentium and the Law of Nature? I think that they touch and blend through Æquitas, or Equity in its original sense; and here we seem to come to the first appearance in jurisprudence of this famous term, Equity. In examining an expression which has so remote an origin and so long a history as this, it is always safest to penetrate, if possible, to the simple metaphor or figure which at first shadowed forth the conception. It has generally been supposed that Æquitas is the equivalent of the Greek [Greek: isotês], _i.e._ the principle of equal or proportionate distribution. The equal division of numbers or physical magnitudes is doubtless closely entwined with our perceptions of justice; there are few associations which keep their ground in the mind so stubbornly or are dismissed from it with such difficulty by the deepest thinkers. Yet in tracing the history of this association, it certainly does not seem to have suggested itself to very early thought, but is rather the offspring of a comparatively late philosophy. It is remarkable too that the "equality" of laws on which the Greek democracies prided themselves--that equality which, in the beautiful drinking song of Callistratus, Harmodius and Aristogiton are said to have given to Athens--had little in common with the "equity" of the Romans. The first was an equal administration of civil laws among the citizens, however limited the class of citizens might be; the last implied the applicability of a law, which was not civil law, to a class which did not necessarily consist of citizens. The first excluded a despot; the last included foreigners, and for some purposes slaves. On the whole, I should be disposed to look in another direction for the germ of the Roman "Equity." The Latin word "æquus" carries with it more distinctly than the Greek "[Greek: isos]" the sense of _levelling_. Now its levelling tendency was exactly the characteristic of the Jus Gentium, which would be most striking to a primitive Roman. The pure Quiritarian law recognised a multitude of arbitrary distinctions between classes of men and kinds of property; the Jus Gentium, generalised from a comparison of various customs, neglected the Quiritarian divisions. The old Roman law established, for example, a fundamental difference between "Agnatic" and "Cognatic" relationship, that is, between the Family considered as based upon common subjection to patriarchal authority and the Family considered (in conformity with modern ideas) as united through the mere fact of a common descent. This distinction disappears in the "law common to all nations," as also does the difference between the archaic forms of property, Things "Mancipi" and Things "nec Mancipi." The neglect of demarcations and boundaries seems to me, therefore, the feature of the Jus Gentium which was depicted in Æquitas. I imagine that the word was at first a mere description of that constant _levelling_ or removal of irregularities which went on wherever the prætorian system was applied to the cases of foreign litigants. Probably no colour of ethical meaning belonged at first to the expression; nor is there any reason to believe that the process which it indicated was otherwise than extremely distasteful to the primitive Roman mind. On the other hand, the feature of the Jus Gentium which was presented to the apprehension of a Roman by the word Equity, was exactly the first and most vividly realised characteristic of the hypothetical state of nature. Nature implied symmetrical order, first in the physical world, and next in the moral, and the earliest notion of order doubtless involved straight lines, even surfaces, and measured distances. The same sort of picture or figure would be unconsciously before the mind's eye, whether it strove to form the outlines of the supposed natural state, or whether it took in at a glance the actual administration of the "law common to all nations"; and all we know of primitive thought would lead us to conclude that this ideal similarity would do much to encourage the belief in an identity of the two conceptions. But then, while the Jus Gentium had little or no antecedent credit at Rome, the theory of a Law of Nature came in surrounded with all the prestige of philosophical authority, and invested with the charms of association with an elder and more blissful condition of the race. It is easy to understand how the difference in the point of view would affect the dignity of the term which at once described the operation of the old principles and the results of the new theory. Even to modern ears it is not at all the same thing to describe a process as one of "levelling" and to call it the "correction of anomalies," though the metaphor is precisely the same. Nor do I doubt that, when once Æquitas was understood to convey an allusion to the Greek theory, associations which grew out of the Greek notion of [Greek: isotês] began to cluster round it. The language of Cicero renders it more than likely that this was so, and it was the first stage of a transmutation of the conception of Equity, which almost every ethical system which has appeared since those days has more or less helped to carry on. Something must be said of the formal instrumentality by which the principles and distinctions associated, first with the Law common to all Nations, and afterwards with the Law of Nature, were gradually incorporated with the Roman law. At the crisis of primitive Roman history which is marked by the expulsion of the Tarquins, a change occurred which has its parallel in the early annals of many ancient states, but which had little in common with those passages of political affairs which we now term revolutions. It may best be described by saying that the monarchy was put into commission. The powers heretofore accumulated in the hands of a single person were parcelled out among a number of elective functionaries, the very name of the kingly office being retained and imposed on a personage known subsequently as the Rex Sacrorum or Rex Sacrificulus. As part of the change, the settled duties of the supreme judicial office devolved on the Prætor, at the time the first functionary in the commonwealth, and together with these duties was transferred the undefined supremacy over law and legislation which always attached to ancient sovereigns and which is not obscurely related to the patriarchal and heroic authority they had once enjoyed. The circumstances of Rome gave great importance to the more indefinite portion of the functions thus as transferred, as with the establishment of the republic began that series of recurrent trials which overtook the state, in the difficulty of dealing with a multitude of persons who, not coming within the technical description of indigenous Romans, were nevertheless permanently located within Roman jurisdiction. Controversies between such persons, or between such persons and native-born citizens, would have remained without the pale of the remedies provided by Roman law, if the Prætor had not undertaken to decide them, and he must soon have addressed himself to the more critical disputes which in the extension of commerce arose between Roman subjects and avowed foreigners. The great increase of such cases in the Roman Courts about the period of the first Punic War is marked by the appointment of a special Prætor, known subsequently as the Prætor Peregrinus, who gave them his undivided attention. Meantime, one precaution of the Roman people against the revival of oppression, had consisted in obliging every magistrate whose duties had any tendency to expand their sphere, to publish, on commencing his year of office, an Edict or proclamation, in which he declared the manner in which he intended to administer his department. The Prætor fell under the rule with other magistrates; but as it was necessarily impossible to construct each year a separate system of principles, he seems to have regularly republished his predecessor's Edict with such additions and changes as the exigency of the moment or his own views of the law compelled him to introduce. The Prætor's proclamation, thus lengthened by a new portion every year, obtained the name of the Edictum Perpetuum, that is, the _continuous_ or _unbroken_ edict. The immense length to which it extended, together perhaps with some distaste for its necessarily disorderly texture, caused the practice of increasing it to be stopped in the year of Salvius Julianus, who occupied the magistracy in the reign of the Emperor Hadrian. The edict of that Prætor embraced therefore the whole body of equity jurisprudence, which it probably disposed in new and symmetrical order, and the perpetual edict is therefore often cited in Roman law merely as the Edict of Julianus. Perhaps the first inquiry which occurs to an Englishman who considers the peculiar mechanism of the Edict is, what were the limitations by which these extensive powers of the Prætor were restrained? How was authority so little definite reconciled with a settled condition of society and of law? The answer can only be supplied by careful observation of the conditions under which our own English law is administered. The Prætor, it should be recollected, was a jurisconsult himself, or a person entirely in the hands of advisers who were jurisconsults, and it is probable that every Roman lawyer waited impatiently for the time when he should fill or control the great judicial magistracy. In the interval, his tastes, feelings, prejudices, and degree of enlightenment were inevitably those of his own order, and the qualifications which he ultimately brought to office were those which he had acquired in the practice and study of his profession. An English Chancellor goes through precisely the same training, and carries to the woolsack the same qualifications. It is certain when he assumes office that he will have, to some extent, modified the law before he leaves it; but until he has quitted his seat, and the series of his decisions in the Law Reports has been completed, we cannot discover how far he has elucidated or added to the principles which his predecessors bequeathed to him. The influence of the Prætor on Roman jurisprudence differed only in respect of the period at which its amount was ascertained. As was before stated, he was in office but for a year, and his decisions rendered during his year, though of course irreversible as regarded the litigants, were of no ulterior value. The most natural moment for declaring the changes he proposed to effect occurred therefore at his entrance on the prætorship, and hence, when commencing his duties, he did openly and avowedly that which in the end his English representative does insensibly and sometimes unconsciously. The checks on this apparent liberty are precisely those imposed on an English judge. Theoretically there seems to be hardly any limit to the powers of either of them, but practically the Roman Prætor, no less than the English Chancellor, was kept within the narrowest bounds by the prepossessions imbibed from early training and by the strong restraints of professional opinion, restraints of which the stringency can only be appreciated by those who have personally experienced them. It may be added that the lines within which movement is permitted, and beyond which there is to be no travelling, were chalked with as much distinctness in the one case as in the other. In England the judge follows the analogies of reported decisions on insulated groups of facts. At Rome, as the intervention of the Prætor was at first dictated by simple concern for the safety of the state, it is likely that in the earliest times it was proportioned to the difficulty which it attempted to get rid of. Afterwards, when the taste for principle had been diffused by the Responses, he no doubt used the Edict as the means of giving a wider application to those fundamental principles, which he and the other practising jurisconsults, his contemporaries, believed themselves to have detected underlying the law. Latterly he acted wholly under the influence of Greek philosophical theories, which at once tempted him to advance and confined him to a particular course of progress. The nature of the measures attributed to Salvius Julianus has been much disputed. Whatever they were, their effects on the Edict are sufficiently plain. It ceased to be extended by annual additions, and henceforward the equity jurisprudence of Rome was developed by the labours of a succession of great jurisconsults who fill with their writings the interval between the reign of Hadrian and the reign of Alexander Severus. A fragment of the wonderful system which they built up survives in the Pandects of Justinian, and supplies evidence that their works took the form of treatises on all parts of Roman Law, but chiefly that of commentaries on the Edict. Indeed, whatever be the immediate subject of a jurisconsult of this epoch, he may always be called an expositor of Equity. The principles of the Edict had, before the epoch of its cessation, made their way into every part of Roman jurisprudence. The Equity of Rome, it should be understood, even when most distinct from the Civil Law, was always administered by the same tribunals. The Prætor was the chief equity judge as well as the great common law magistrate, and as soon as the Edict had evolved an equitable rule the Prætor's court began to apply it in place of or by the side of the old rule of the Civil Law, which was thus directly or indirectly repealed without any express enactment of the legislature. The result, of course, fell considerably short of a complete fusion of law and equity, which was not carried out till the reforms of Justinian. The technical severance of the two elements of jurisprudence entailed some confusion and some inconvenience, and there were certain of the stubborner doctrines of the Civil Law with which neither the authors nor the expositors of the Edict had ventured to interfere. But at the same time there was no corner of the field of jurisprudence which was not more or less swept over by the influence of Equity. It supplied the jurist with all his materials for generalisation, with all his methods of interpretation, with his elucidations of first principles, and with that great mass of limiting rules which are rarely interfered with by the legislator, but which seriously control the application of every legislative act. The period of jurists ends with Alexander Severus. From Hadrian to that emperor the improvement of law was carried on, as it is at the present moment in most continental countries, partly by approved commentaries and partly by direct legislation. But in the reign of Alexander Severus the power of growth in Roman Equity seems to be exhausted, and the succession of jurisconsults comes to a close. The remaining history of the Roman law is the history of the imperial constitutions, and, at the last, of attempts to codify what had now become the unwieldy body of Roman jurisprudence. We have the latest and most celebrated experiment of this kind in the _Corpus Juris_ of Justinian. It would be wearisome to enter on a detailed comparison or contrast of English and Roman Equity, but it may be worth while to mention two features which they have in common. The first may be stated as follows. Each of them tended, and all such systems tend, to exactly the same state in which the old common law was when Equity first interfered with it. A time always comes at which the moral principles originally adopted have been carried out to all their legitimate consequences, and then the system founded on them becomes as rigid, as unexpansive, and as liable to fall behind moral progress as the sternest code of rules avowedly legal. Such an epoch was reached at Rome in the reign of Alexander Severus; after which, though the whole Roman world was undergoing a moral revolution, the Equity of Rome ceased to expand. The same point of legal history was attained in England under the chancellorship of Lord Eldon, the first of our equity judges who, instead of enlarging the jurisprudence of his court by indirect legislation, devoted himself through life to explaining and harmonising it. If the philosophy of legal history were better understood in England, Lord Eldon's services would be less exaggerated on the one hand and better appreciated on the other than they appear to be among contemporary lawyers. Other misapprehensions too, which bear some practical fruit, would perhaps be avoided. It is easily seen by English lawyers that English Equity is a system founded on moral rules; but it is forgotten that these rules are the morality of past centuries--not of the present--that they have received nearly as much application as they are capable of, and that though of course they do not differ largely from the ethical creed of our own day, they are not necessarily on a level with it. The imperfect theories of the subject which are commonly adopted have generated errors of opposite sorts. Many writers of treatises on Equity, struck with the completeness of the system in its present state, commit themselves expressly or implicitly to the paradoxical assertion that the founders of the chancery jurisprudence contemplated its present fixity of form when they were settling its first bases. Others, again, complain--and this is a grievance frequently observed upon in forensic arguments--that the moral rules enforced by the Court of Chancery fall short of the ethical standard of the present day. They would have each Lord Chancellor perform precisely the same office for the jurisprudence which he finds ready to his hand, which was performed for the old common law by the fathers of English equity. But this is to invert the order of the agencies by which the improvement of the law is carried on. Equity has its place and its time; but I have pointed out that another instrumentality is ready to succeed it when its energies are spent. Another remarkable characteristic of both English and Roman Equity is the falsehood of the assumptions upon which the claim of the equitable to superiority over the legal rule is originally defended. Nothing is more distasteful to men, either as individuals or as masses, than the admission of their moral progress as a substantive reality. This unwillingness shows itself, as regards individuals, in the exaggerated respect which is ordinarily paid to the doubtful virtue of consistency. The movement of the collective opinion of a whole society is too palpable to be ignored, and is generally too visible for the better to be decried; but there is the greatest disinclination to accept it as a primary phenomenon, and it is commonly explained as the recovery of a lost perfection--the gradual return to a state from which the race has lapsed. This tendency to look backward instead of forward for the goal of moral progress produced anciently, as we have seen, on Roman jurisprudence effects the most serious and permanent. The Roman jurisconsults, in order to account for the improvement of their jurisprudence by the Prætor, borrowed from Greece the doctrine of a Natural state of man--a Natural society--anterior to the organisation of commonwealths governed by positive laws. In England, on the other hand, a range of ideas especially congenial to Englishmen of that day, explained the claim of Equity to override the common law by supposing a general right to superintend the administration of justice which was assumed to be vested in the king as a natural result of his paternal authority. The same view appears in a different and a quainter form in the old doctrine that Equity flowed from the king's conscience--the improvement which had in fact taken place in the moral standard of the community being thus referred to an inherent elevation in the moral sense of the sovereign. The growth of the English constitution rendered such a theory unpalatable after a time; but, as the jurisdiction of the Chancery was then firmly established, it was not worth while to devise any formal substitute for it. The theories found in modern manuals of Equity are very various, but all are alike in their untenability. Most of them are modifications of the Roman doctrine of a natural law, which is indeed adopted in tenour by those writers who begin a discussion of the jurisdiction of the Court of Chancery by laying down a distinction between natural justice and civil. CHAPTER IV THE MODERN HISTORY OF THE LAW OF NATURE It will be inferred from what has been said that the theory which transformed the Roman jurisprudence had no claim to philosophical precision. It involved, in fact, one of those "mixed modes of thought" which are now acknowledged to have characterised all but the highest minds during the infancy of speculation, and which are far from undiscoverable even in the mental efforts of our own day. The Law of Nature confused the Past and the Present. Logically, it implied a state of Nature which had once been regulated by natural law; yet the jurisconsults do not speak clearly or confidently of the existence of such a state, which indeed is little noticed by the ancients except where it finds a poetical expression in the fancy of a golden age. Natural law, for all practical purposes, was something belonging to the present, something entwined with existing institutions, something which could be distinguished from them by a competent observer. The test which separated the ordinances of Nature from the gross ingredients with which they were mingled was a sense of simplicity and harmony; yet it was not on account of their simplicity and harmony that these finer elements were primarily respected, but on the score of their descent from the aboriginal reign of Nature. This confusion has not been successfully explained away by the modern disciples of the jurisconsults, and in truth modern speculations on the Law of Nature betray much more indistinctness of perception and are vitiated by much more hopeless ambiguity of language than the Roman lawyers can be justly charged with. There are some writers on the subject who attempt to evade the fundamental difficulty by contending that the code of Nature exists in the future and is the goal to which all civil laws are moving, but this is to reverse the assumptions on which the old theory rested, or rather perhaps to mix together two inconsistent theories. The tendency to look not to the past but to the future for types of perfection was brought into the world by Christianity. Ancient literature gives few or no hints of a belief that the progress of society is necessarily from worse to better. But the importance of this theory to mankind has been very much greater than its philosophical deficiencies would lead us to expect. Indeed, it is not easy to say what turn the history of thought, and therefore, of the human race, would have taken, if the belief in a law natural had not become universal in the ancient world. There are two special dangers to which law, and society which is held together by law, appear to be liable in their infancy. One of them is that law may be too rapidly developed. This occurred with the codes of the more progressive Greek communities, which disembarrassed themselves with astonishing facility from cumbrous forms of procedure and needless terms of art, and soon ceased to attach any superstitious value to rigid rules and prescriptions. It was not for the ultimate advantage of mankind that they did so, though the immediate benefit conferred on their citizens may have been considerable. One of the rarest qualities of national character is the capacity for applying and working out the law, as such, at the cost of constant miscarriages of abstract justice, without at the same time losing the hope or the wish that law may be conformed to a higher ideal. The Greek intellect, with all its nobility and elasticity, was quite unable to confine itself within the strait waistcoat of a legal formula; and, if we may judge them by the popular courts of Athens, of whose working we possess accurate knowledge, the Greek tribunals exhibited the strongest tendency to confound law and fact. The remains of the Orators and the forensic commonplaces preserved by Aristotle in his Treatise on Rhetoric, show that questions of pure law were constantly argued on every consideration which could possibly influence the mind of the judges. No durable system of jurisprudence could be produced in this way. A community which never hesitated to relax rules of written law whenever they stood in the way of an ideally perfect decision on the facts of particular cases, would only, if it bequeathed any body of judicial principles to posterity, bequeath one consisting of the ideas of right and wrong which happened to be prevalent at the time. Such a jurisprudence would contain no framework to which the more advanced conceptions of subsequent ages could be fitted. It would amount at best to a philosophy marked with the imperfections of the civilisation under which it grew up. Few national societies have had their jurisprudence menaced by this peculiar danger of precocious maturity and untimely disintegration. It is certainly doubtful whether the Romans were ever seriously threatened by it, but at any rate they had adequate protection in their theory of Natural Law. For the Natural Law of the jurisconsults was distinctly conceived by them as a system which ought gradually to absorb civil laws, without superseding them so long as they remained unrepealed. There was no such impression of its sanctity abroad, that an appeal to it would be likely to overpower the mind of a judge who was charged with the superintendence of a particular litigation. The value and serviceableness of the conception arose from its keeping before the mental vision a type of perfect law, and from its inspiring the hope of an indefinite approximation to it, at the same time that it never tempted the practitioner or the citizen to deny the obligation of existing laws which had not yet been adjusted to the theory. It is important too to observe that this model system, unlike many of those which have mocked men's hopes in later days, was not entirely the product of imagination. It was never thought of as founded on quite untested principles. The notion was that it underlay existing law and must be looked for through it. Its functions were in short remedial, not revolutionary or anarchical. And this, unfortunately, is the exact point at which the modern view of a Law of Nature has often ceased to resemble the ancient. The other liability to which the infancy of society is exposed has prevented or arrested the progress of far the greater part of mankind. The rigidity of primitive law, arising chiefly from its early association and identification with religion, has chained down the mass of the human race to those views of life and conduct which they entertained at the time when their usages were first consolidated into a systematic form. There were one or two races exempted by a marvellous fate from this calamity, and grafts from these stocks have fertilised a few modern societies, but it is still true that, over the larger part of the world, the perfection of law has always been considered as consisting in adherence to the ground plan supposed to have been marked out by the original legislator. If intellect has in such cases been exercised on jurisprudence, it has uniformly prided itself on the subtle perversity of the conclusions it could build on ancient texts, without discoverable departure from their literal tenour. I know no reason why the law of the Romans should be superior to the laws of the Hindoos, unless the theory of Natural Law had given it a type of excellence different from the usual one. In this one exceptional instance, simplicity and symmetry were kept before the eyes of a society whose influence on mankind was destined to be prodigious from other causes, as the characteristics of an ideal and absolutely perfect law. It is impossible to overrate the importance to a nation or profession of having a distinct object to aim at in the pursuit of improvement. The secret of Bentham's immense influence in England during the past thirty years is his success in placing such an object before the country. He gave us a clear rule of reform. English lawyers of the last century were probably too acute to be blinded by the paradoxical commonplace that English law was the perfection of human reason, but they acted as if they believed it for want of any other principle to proceed upon. Bentham made the good of the community take precedence of every other object, and thus gave escape to a current which had long been trying to find its way outwards. It is not an altogether fanciful comparison if we call the assumptions we have been describing the ancient counterpart of Benthamism. The Roman theory guided men's efforts in the same direction as the theory put into shape by the Englishman; its practical results were not widely different from those which would have been attained by a sect of law-reformers who maintained a steady pursuit of the general good of the community. It would be a mistake, however, to suppose it a conscious anticipation of Bentham's principles. The happiness of mankind is, no doubt, sometimes assigned, both in the popular and in the legal literature of the Romans, as the proper object of remedial legislation, but it is very remarkable how few and faint are the testimonies to this principle compared with the tributes which are constantly offered to the overshadowing claims of the Law of Nature. It was not to anything resembling philanthropy, but to their sense of simplicity and harmony--of what they significantly termed "elegance"--that the Roman jurisconsults freely surrendered themselves. The coincidence of their labours with those which a more precise philosophy would have counselled has been part of the good fortune of mankind. Turning to the modern history of the law of nature, we find it easier to convince ourselves of the vastness of its influence than to pronounce confidently whether that influence has been exerted for good or for evil. The doctrines and institutions which may be attributed to it are the material of some of the most violent controversies debated in our time, as will be seen when it is stated that the theory of Natural Law is the source of almost all the special ideas as to law, politics, and society which France during the last hundred years has been the instrument of diffusing over the western world. The part played by jurists in French history, and the sphere of jural conceptions in French thought, have always been remarkably large. It was not indeed in France, but in Italy, that the juridical science of modern Europe took its rise, but of the schools founded by emissaries of the Italian universities in all parts of the continent, and attempted (though vainly) to be set up in our island, that established in France produced the greatest effect on the fortunes of the country. The lawyers of France immediately formed a strict alliance with the kings of the house of Capet, and it was as much through their assertions of royal prerogative, and through their interpretations of the rules of feudal succession, as by the power of the sword, that the French monarchy at last grew together out of the agglomeration of provinces and dependencies. The enormous advantage which their understanding with the lawyers conferred on the French kings in the prosecution of their struggle with the great feudatories, the aristocracy, and the church, can only be appreciated if we take into account the ideas which prevailed in Europe far down into the middle ages. There was, in the first place, a great enthusiasm for generalisation and a curious admiration for all general propositions, and consequently, in the field of law, an involuntary reverence for every general formula which seemed to embrace and sum up a number of the insulated rules which were practised as usages in various localities. Such general formulas it was, of course, not difficult for practitioners familiar with the Corpus Juris or the Glosses to supply in almost any quantity. There was, however, another cause which added yet more considerably to the lawyers' power. At the period of which we are speaking, there was universal vagueness of ideas as to the degree and nature of the authority residing in written texts of law. For the most part, the peremptory preface, _Ita scriptum est_, seems to have been sufficient to silence all objections. Where a mind of our own day would jealously scrutinise the formula which had been quoted, would inquire its source, and would (if necessary) deny that the body of law to which it belonged had any authority to supersede local customs, the elder jurist would not probably have ventured to do more than question the applicability of the rule, or at best cite some counter proposition from the Pandects or the Canon Law. It is extremely necessary to bear in mind the uncertainty of men's notions on this most important side of juridical controversies, not only because it helps to explain the weight which the lawyers threw into the monarchical scale, but on account of the light which it sheds on several curious historical problems. The motives of the author of the Forged Decretals and his extraordinary success are rendered more intelligible by it. And, to take a phenomenon of smaller interest, it assists us, though only partially, to understand the plagiarisms of Bracton. That an English writer of the time of Henry III. should have been able to put off on his countrymen as a compendium of pure English law a treatise of which the entire form and a third of the contents were directly borrowed from the Corpus Juris, and that he should have ventured on this experiment in a country where the systematic study of the Roman law was formally proscribed, will always be among the most hopeless enigmas in the history of jurisprudence; but still it is something to lessen our surprise when we comprehend the state of opinion at the period as to the obligatory force of written texts, apart from all consideration of the source whence they were derived. When the kings of France had brought their long struggle for supremacy to a successful close, an epoch which may be placed roughly at the accession of the branch of Valois-Angoulême to the throne, the situation of the French jurists was peculiar and continued to be so down to the outbreak of the revolution. On the one hand, they formed the best instructed and nearly the most powerful class in the nation. They had made good their footing as a privileged order by the side of the feudal aristocracy, and they had assured their influence by an organisation which distributed their profession over France in great chartered corporations possessing large defined powers and still larger indefinite claims. In all the qualities of the advocate, the judge, and the legislator, they far excelled their compeers throughout Europe. Their juridical tact, their ease of expression, their fine sense of analogy and harmony, and (if they may be judged by the highest names among them) their passionate devotion to their conceptions of justice, were as remarkable as the singular variety of talent which they included, a variety covering the whole ground between the opposite poles of Cujas and Montesquieu, of D'Aguesseau and Dumoulin. But, on the other hand, the system of laws which they had to administer stood in striking contrast with the habits of mind which they had cultivated. The France which had been in great part constituted by their efforts was smitten with the curse of an anomalous and dissonant jurisprudence beyond every other country in Europe. One great division ran through the country and separated it into _Pays du Droit Ecrit_ and _Pays du Droit Coutumier_, the first acknowledging the written Roman law as the basis of their jurisprudence, the last admitting it only so far as it supplied general forms of expression, and courses of juridical reasoning which were reconcileable with the local usages. The sections thus formed were again variously subdivided. In the _Pays du Droit Coutumier_ province differed from province, county from county, municipality from municipality, in the nature of its customs. In the _Pays du Droit Ecrit_ the stratum of feudal rules which overlay the Roman law was of the most miscellaneous composition. No such confusion as this ever existed in England. In Germany it did exist, but was too much in harmony with the deep political and religious divisions of the country to be lamented or even felt. It was the special peculiarity of France that an extraordinary diversity of laws continued without sensible alteration while the central authority of the monarchy was constantly strengthening itself, while rapid approaches were being made to complete administrative unity, and while a fervid national spirit had been developed among the people. The contrast was one which fructified in many serious results, and among them we must rank the effect which it produced on the minds of the French lawyers. Their speculative opinions and their intellectual bias were in the strongest opposition to their interests and professional habits. With the keenest sense and the fullest recognition of those perfections of jurisprudence which consist in simplicity and uniformity, they believed, or seemed to believe, that the vices which actually infested French law were ineradicable; and in practice they often resisted the reformation of abuses with an obstinacy which was not shown by many among their less enlightened countrymen. But there was a way to reconcile these contradictions. They became passionate enthusiasts for Natural Law. The Law of Nature overleapt all provincial and municipal boundaries; it disregarded all distinctions between noble and burgess, between burgess and peasant; it gave the most exalted place to lucidity, simplicity and system; but it committed its devotees to no specific improvement, and did not directly threaten any venerable or lucrative technicality. Natural law may be said to have become the common law of France, or, at all events, the admission of its dignity and claims was the one tenet which all French practitioners alike subscribed to. The language of the præ-revolutionary jurists in its eulogy is singularly unqualified, and it is remarkable that the writers on the Customs, who often made it their duty to speak disparagingly of the pure Roman law, speak even more fervidly of Nature and her rules than the civilians who professed an exclusive respect for the Digest and the Code. Dumoulin, the highest of all authorities on old French Customary Law, has some extravagant passages on the Law of Nature; and his panegyrics have a peculiar rhetorical turn which indicated a considerable departure from the caution of the Roman jurisconsults. The hypothesis of a Natural Law had become not so much a theory guiding practice as an article of speculative faith, and accordingly we shall find that, in the transformation which it more recently underwent, its weakest parts rose to the level of its strongest in the esteem of its supporters. The eighteenth century was half over when the most critical period in the history of Natural Law was reached. Had the discussion of the theory and of its consequences continued to be exclusively the employment of the legal profession, there would possibly have been an abatement of the respect which it commanded; for by this time the _Esprit des Lois_ had appeared. Bearing in some exaggerations the marks of the excessive violence with which its author's mind had recoiled from assumptions usually suffered to pass without scrutiny, yet showing in some ambiguities the traces of a desire to compromise with existing prejudice, the book of Montesquieu, with all its defects, still proceeded on that Historical Method before which the Law of Nature has never maintained its footing for an instant. Its influence on thought ought to have been as great as its general popularity; but, in fact, it was never allowed time to put it forth, for the counter-hypothesis which it seemed destined to destroy passed suddenly from the forum to the street, and became the key-note of controversies far more exciting than are ever agitated in the courts or the schools. The person who launched it on its new career was that remarkable man who, without learning, with few virtues, and with no strength of character, has nevertheless stamped himself ineffaceably on history by the force of a vivid imagination, and by the help of a genuine and burning love for his fellow-men, for which much will always have to be forgiven him. We have never seen in our own generation--indeed the world has not seen more than once or twice in all the course of history--a literature which has exercised such prodigious influence over the minds of men, over every cast and shade of intellect, as that which emanated from Rousseau between 1749 and 1762. It was the first attempt to re-erect the edifice of human belief after the purely iconoclastic efforts commenced by Bayle, and in part by our own Locke, and consummated by Voltaire; and besides the superiority which every constructive effort will always enjoy over one that is merely destructive, it possessed the immense advantage of appearing amid an all but universal scepticism as to the soundness of all foregone knowledge in matters speculative. Now, in all the speculations of Rousseau, the central figure, whether arrayed in an English dress as the signatory of a social compact, or simply stripped naked of all historical qualities, is uniformly Man, in a supposed state of nature. Every law or institution which would misbeseem this imaginary being under these ideal circumstances is to be condemned as having lapsed from an original perfection; every transformation of society which would give it a closer resemblance to the world over which the creature of Nature reigned, is admirable and worthy to be effected at any apparent cost. The theory is still that of the Roman lawyers, for in the phantasmagoria with which the Natural Condition is peopled, every feature and characteristic eludes the mind except the simplicity and harmony which possessed such charms for the jurisconsult; but the theory is, as it were, turned upside down. It is not the Law of Nature, but the State of Nature, which is now the primary subject of contemplation. The Roman had conceived that by careful observation of existing institutions parts of them could be singled out which either exhibited already, or could by judicious purification be made to exhibit, the vestiges of that reign of nature whose reality he faintly affirmed. Rousseau's belief was that a perfect social order could be evolved from the unassisted consideration of the natural state, a social order wholly irrespective of the actual condition of the world and wholly unlike it. The great difference between the views is that one bitterly and broadly condemns the present for its unlikeness to the ideal past; while the other, assuming the present to be as necessary as the past, does not affect to disregard or censure it. It is not worth our while to analyse with any particularity that philosophy of politics, art, education, ethics, and social relation which was constructed on the basis of a state of nature. It still possesses singular fascination for the looser thinkers of every country, and is no doubt the parent, more or less remote, of almost all the prepossessions which impede the employment of the Historical Method of inquiry, but its discredit with the higher minds of our day is deep enough to astonish those who are familiar with the extraordinary vitality of speculative error. Perhaps the question most frequently asked nowadays is not what is the value of these opinions, but what were the causes which gave them such overshadowing prominence a hundred years ago. The answer is, I conceive, a simple one. The study which in the last century would best have corrected the misapprehensions into which an exclusive attention to legal antiquities is apt to betray was the study of religion. But Greek religion, as then understood, was dissipated in imaginative myths. The Oriental religions, if noticed at all, appeared to be lost in vain cosmogonies. There was but one body of primitive records which was worth studying--the early history of the Jews. But resort to this was prevented by the prejudices of the time. One of the few characteristics which the school of Rousseau had in common with the school of Voltaire was an utter disdain of all religious antiquities; and, more than all, of those of the Hebrew race. It is well known that it was a point of honour with the reasoners of that day to assume not merely that the institutions called after Moses were not divinely dictated, nor even that they were codified at a later date than that attributed to them, but that they and the entire Pentateuch were a gratuitous forgery, executed after the return from the Captivity. Debarred, therefore, from one chief security against speculative delusion, the philosophers of France, in their eagerness to escape from what they deemed a superstition of the priests, flung themselves headlong into a superstition of the lawyers. But though the philosophy founded on the hypothesis of a state of nature has fallen low in general esteem, in so far as it is looked upon under its coarser and more palpable aspect, it does not follow that in its subtler disguises it has lost plausibility, popularity, or power. I believe, as I have said, that it is still the great antagonist of the Historical Method; and whenever (religious objections apart) any mind is seen to resist or contemn that mode of investigation, it will generally be found under the influence of a prejudice or vicious bias traceable to a conscious or unconscious reliance on a non-historic, natural, condition of society or the individual. It is chiefly, however, by allying themselves with political and social tendencies that the doctrines of Nature and her law have preserved their energy. Some of these tendencies they have stimulated, others they have actually created, to a great number they have given expression and form. They visibly enter largely into the ideas which constantly radiate from France over the civilised world, and thus become part of the general body of thought by which its civilisation is modified. The value of the influence which they thus exercise over the fortunes of the race is of course one of the points which our age debates most warmly, and it is beside the purpose of this treatise to discuss it. Looking back, however, to the period at which the theory of the state of nature acquired the maximum of political importance, there are few who will deny that it helped most powerfully to bring about the grosser disappointments of which the first French Revolution was fertile. It gave birth, or intense stimulus, to the vices of mental habit all but universal at the time, disdain of positive law, impatience of experience, and the preference of _à priori_ to all other reasoning. In proportion too as this philosophy fixes its grasp on minds which have thought less than others and fortified themselves with smaller observation, its tendency is to become distinctly anarchical. It is surprising to note how many of the _Sophismes Anarchiques_ which Dumont published for Bentham, and which embody Bentham's exposure of errors distinctively French, are derived from the Roman hypothesis in its French transformation, and are unintelligible unless referred to it. On this point too it is a curious exercise to consult the _Moniteur_ during the principal eras of the Revolution. The appeals to the Law and State of Nature become thicker as the times grow darker. They are comparatively rare in the Constituent Assembly; they are much more frequent in the Legislative; in the Convention, amid the din of debate on conspiracy and war, they are perpetual. There is a single example which very strikingly illustrates the effects of the theory of natural law on modern society, and indicates how very far are those effects from being exhausted. There cannot, I conceive, be any question that to the assumption of a Law Natural we owe the doctrine of the fundamental equality of human beings. That "all men are equal" is one of a large number of legal propositions which, in progress of time, have become political. The Roman jurisconsults of the Antonine era lay down that "omnes homines naturâ æquales sunt," but in their eyes this is a strictly juridical axiom. They intend to affirm that, under the hypothetical Law of Nature, and in so far as positive law approximates to it, the arbitrary distinctions which the Roman Civil Law maintained between classes of persons cease to have a legal existence. The rule was one of considerable importance to the Roman practitioner, who required to be reminded that, wherever Roman jurisprudence was assumed to conform itself exactly to the code of Nature, there was no difference in the contemplation of the Roman tribunals between citizen and foreigner, between freeman and slave, between Agnate and Cognate. The jurisconsults who thus expressed themselves most certainly never intended to censure the social arrangements under which civil law fell somewhat short of its speculative type; nor did they apparently believe that the world would ever see human society completely assimilated to the economy of nature. But when the doctrine of human equality makes its appearance in a modern dress it has evidently clothed itself with a new shade of meaning. Where the Roman jurisconsult had written "æquales sunt," meaning exactly what he said, the modern civilian wrote "all men are equal" in the sense of "all men ought to be equal." The peculiar Roman idea that natural law coexisted with civil law and gradually absorbed it, had evidently been lost sight of, or had become unintelligible, and the words which had at most conveyed a theory concerning the origin, composition, and development of human institutions, were beginning to express the sense of a great standing wrong suffered by mankind. As early as the beginning of the fourteenth century, the current language concerning the birth-state of men, though visibly intended to be identical with that of Ulpian and his contemporaries, has assumed an altogether different form and meaning. The preamble to the celebrated ordinance of King Louis Hutin enfranchising the serfs of the royal domains would have sounded strangely to Roman ears. "Whereas, according to natural law, everybody ought to be born free; and by some usages and customs which, from long antiquity, have been introduced and kept until now in our realm, and peradventure by reason of the misdeeds of their predecessors, many persons of our common people have fallen into servitude, therefore, We, etc." This is the enunciation not of a legal rule but of a political dogma; and from this time the equality of men is spoken of by the French lawyers just as if it were a political truth which happened to have been preserved among the archives of their science. Like all other deductions from the hypothesis of a Law Natural, and like the belief itself in a Law of Nature, it was languidly assented to and suffered to have little influence on opinion and practice until it passed out of the possession of the lawyers into that of the literary men of the eighteenth century and of the public which sat at their feet. With them it became the most distinct tenet of their creed, and was even regarded as a summary of all the others. It is probable, however, that the power which it ultimately acquired over the events of 1789 was not entirely owing to its popularity in France, for in the middle of the century it passed over to America. The American lawyers of the time, and particularly those of Virginia, appear to have possessed a stock of knowledge which differed chiefly from that of their English contemporaries in including much which could only have been derived from the legal literature of continental Europe. A very few glances at the writings of Jefferson will show how strongly his mind was affected by the semi-juridical, semi-popular opinions which were fashionable in France, and we cannot doubt that it was sympathy with the peculiar ideas of the French jurists which led him and the other colonial lawyers who guided the course of events in America to join the specially French assumption that "all men are born equal" with the assumption, more familiar to Englishmen, that "all men are born free," in the very first lines of their Declaration of Independence. The passage was one of great importance to the history of the doctrine before us. The American lawyers, in thus prominently and emphatically affirming the fundamental equality of human beings, gave an impulse to political movements in their own country, and in a less degree in Great Britain, which is far from having yet spent itself; but besides this they returned the dogma they had adopted to its home in France, endowed with vastly greater energy and enjoying much greater claims on general reception and respect. Even the more cautious politicians of the first Constituent Assembly repeated Ulpian's proposition as if it at once commended itself to the instincts and intuitions of mankind; and of all the "principles of 1789" it is the one which has been least strenuously assailed, which has most thoroughly leavened modern opinion, and which promises to modify most deeply the constitution of societies and the politics of states. The grandest function of the Law of Nature was discharged in giving birth to modern International Law and to the modern Law of War, but this part of its effects must here be dismissed with consideration very unequal to its importance. Among the postulates which form the foundation of International Law, or of so much of it as retains the figure which it received from its original architects, there are two or three of pre-eminent importance. The first of all is expressed in the position that there is a determinable Law of Nature. Grotius and his successors took the assumption directly from the Romans, but they differed widely from the Roman jurisconsults and from each other in their ideas as to the mode of determination. The ambition of almost every Publicist who has flourished since the revival of letters has been to provide new and more manageable definitions of Nature and of her law, and it is indisputable that the conception in passing through the long series of writers on Public Law has gathered round it a large accretion, consisting of fragments of ideas derived from nearly every theory of ethics which has in its turn taken possession of the schools. Yet it is a remarkable proof of the essentially historical character of the conception that, after all the efforts which have been made to evolve the code of nature from the necessary characteristics of the natural state, so much of the result is just what it would have been if men had been satisfied to adopt the dicta of the Roman lawyers without questioning or reviewing them. Setting aside the Conventional or Treaty Law of Nations, it is surprising how large a part of the system is made up of pure Roman law. Wherever there is a doctrine of the jurisconsults affirmed by them to be in harmony with the Jus Gentium, the publicists have found a reason for borrowing it, however plainly it may bear the marks of a distinctively Roman origin. We may observe too that the derivative theories are afflicted with the weakness of the primary notion. In the majority of the Publicists, the mode of thought is still "mixed." In studying these writers, the great difficulty is always to discover whether they are discussing law or morality--whether the state of international relations they describe is actual or ideal--whether they lay down that which is, or that which, in their opinion, ought to be. The assumption that Natural Law is binding on states _inter se_ is the next in rank of those which underlie International Law. A series of assertions or admissions of this principle may be traced up to the very infancy of modern juridical science, and at first sight it seems a direct inference from the teaching of the Romans. The civil condition of society being distinguished from the natural by the fact that in the first there is a distinct author of law, while in the last there is none, it appears as if the moment a number of _units_ were acknowledged to obey no common sovereign or political superior they were thrown back on the ulterior behests of the Law Natural. States are such units; the hypothesis of their independence excludes the notion of a common lawgiver, and draws with it, therefore, according to a certain range of ideas, the notion of subjection to the primeval order of nature. The alternative is to consider independent communities as not related to each other by any law, but this condition of lawlessness is exactly the vacuum which the Nature of the jurisconsults abhorred. There is certainly apparent reason for thinking that if the mind of a Roman lawyer rested on any sphere from which civil law was banished, it would instantly fill the void with the ordinances of Nature. It is never safe, however, to assume that conclusions, however certain and immediate in our own eyes, were actually drawn at any period of history. No passage has ever been adduced from the remains of Roman law which, in my judgment, proves the jurisconsults to have believed natural law to have obligatory force between independent commonwealths; and we cannot but see that to citizens of the Roman empire who regarded their sovereign's dominions as conterminous with civilisation, the equal subjection of states to the Law of Nature, if contemplated at all, must have seemed at most an extreme result of curious speculation. The truth appears to be that modern International Law, undoubted as is its descent from Roman law, is only connected with it by an irregular filiation. The early modern interpreters of the jurisprudence of Rome, misconceiving the meaning of Jus Gentium, assumed without hesitation that the Romans had bequeathed to them a system of rules for the adjustment of international transactions. This "Law of Nations" was at first an authority which had formidable competitors to strive with, and the condition of Europe was long such as to preclude its universal reception. Gradually, however, the western world arranged itself in a form more favourable to the theory of the civilians; circumstances destroyed the credit of rival doctrines; and at last, at a peculiarly felicitous conjuncture, Ayala and Grotius were able to obtain for it the enthusiastic assent of Europe, an assent which has been over and over again renewed in every variety of solemn engagement. The great men to whom its triumph is chiefly owing attempted, it need scarcely be said, to place it on an entirely new basis, and it is unquestionable that in the course of this displacement they altered much of its structure, though far less of it than is commonly supposed. Having adopted from the Antonine jurisconsults the position that the Jus Gentium and the Jus Naturæ were identical, Grotius, with his immediate predecessors and his immediate successors, attributed to the Law of Nature an authority which would never perhaps have been claimed for it, if "Law of Nations" had not in that age been an ambiguous expression. They laid down unreservedly that Natural Law is the code of states, and thus put in operation a process which has continued almost down to our own day, the process of engrafting on the international system rules which are supposed to have been evolved from the unassisted contemplation of the conception of Nature. There is too one consequence of immense practical importance to mankind which, though not unknown during the early modern history of Europe, was never clearly or universally acknowledged till the doctrines of the Grotian school had prevailed. If the society of nations is governed by Natural Law, the atoms which compose it must be absolutely equal. Men under the sceptre of Nature are all equal, and accordingly commonwealths are equal if the international state be one of nature. The proposition that independent communities, however different in size and power, are all equal in the view of the law of nations, has largely contributed to the happiness of mankind, though it is constantly threatened by the political tendencies of each successive age. It is a doctrine which probably would never have obtained a secure footing at all if International Law had not been entirely derived from the majestic claims of Nature by the Publicists who wrote after the revival of letters. On the whole, however, it is astonishing, as I have observed before, how small a proportion the additions made to International Law since Grotius's day bear to the ingredients which have been simply taken from the most ancient stratum of the Roman Jus Gentium. Acquisition of territory has always been the great spur of national ambition, and the rules which govern this acquisition, together with the rules which moderate the wars in which it too frequently results, are merely transcribed from the part of the Roman law which treats of the modes of acquiring property _jure gentium_. These modes of acquisition were obtained by the elder jurisconsults, as I have attempted to explain, by abstracting a common ingredient from the usages observed to prevail among the various tribes surrounding Rome; and, having been classed on account of their origin in the "law common to all nations," they were thought by the later lawyers to fit in, on the score of their simplicity, with the more recent conception of a Law Natural. They thus made their way into the modern Law of Nations, and the result is that those parts of the international system which refer to _dominion_, its nature, its limitations, the modes of acquiring and securing it, are pure Roman Property Law--so much, that is to say, of the Roman Law of Property as the Antonine jurisconsults imagined to exhibit a certain congruity with the natural state. In order that these chapters of International Law may be capable of application, it is necessary that sovereigns should be related to each other like the members of a group of Roman proprietors. This is another of the postulates which lie at the threshold of the International Code, and it is also one which could not possibly have been subscribed to during the first centuries of modern European history. It is resolvable into the double proposition that "sovereignty is territorial," _i.e._ that it is always associated with the proprietorship of a limited portion of the earth's surface, and that "sovereigns _inter se_ are to be deemed not _paramount_, but _absolute_, owners of the state's territory." Many contemporary writers on International Law tacitly assume that the doctrines of their system, founded on principles of equity and common sense, were capable of being readily reasoned out in every stage of modern civilisation. But this assumption, while it conceals some real defects of the international theory, is altogether untenable, so far as regards a large part of modern history. It is not true that the authority of the Jus Gentium in the concerns of nations was always uncontradicted; on the contrary, it had to struggle long against the claims of several competing systems. It is again not true that the territorial character of sovereignty was always recognised, for long after the dissolution of the Roman dominion the minds of men were under the empire of ideas irreconcileable with such a conception. An old order of things, and of views founded on it, had to decay--a new Europe, and an apparatus of new notions congenial to it, had to spring up--before two of the chiefest postulates of International Law could be universally conceded. It is a consideration well worthy to be kept in view, that during a large part of what we usually term modern history no such conception was entertained as that of "_territorial sovereignty_." Sovereignty was not associated with dominion over a portion or subdivision of the earth. The world had lain for so many centuries under the shadow of Imperial Rome as to have forgotten that distribution of the vast spaces comprised in the empire which had once parcelled them out into a number of independent commonwealths, claiming immunity from extrinsic interference, and pretending to equality of national rights. After the subsidence of the barbarian irruptions, the notion of sovereignty that prevailed seems to have been twofold. On the one hand it assumed the form of what may be called "_tribe_-sovereignty." The Franks, the Burgundians, the Vandals, the Lombards, and Visigoths were masters, of course, of the territories which they occupied, and to which some of them have given a geographical appellation; but they based no claim of right upon the fact of territorial possession, and indeed attached no importance to it whatever. They appear to have retained the traditions which they brought with them from the forest and the steppe, and to have still been in their own view a patriarchal society, a nomad horde, merely encamped for the time upon the soil which afforded them sustenance. Part of Transalpine Gaul, with part of Germany, had now become the country _de facto_ occupied by the Franks--it was France; but the Merovingian line of chieftains, the descendants of Clovis, were not Kings of France, they were Kings of the Franks. The alternative to this peculiar notion of sovereignty appears to have been--and this is the important point--the idea of universal dominion. The moment a monarch departed from the special relation of chief to clansmen, and became solicitous, for purposes of his own, to invest himself with a novel form of sovereignty, the only precedent which suggested itself for his adoption was the domination of the Emperors of Rome. To parody a common quotation, he became "_aut Cæsar aut nullus_." Either he pretended to the full prerogative of the Byzantine Emperor, or he had no political status whatever. In our own age, when a new dynasty is desirous of obliterating the prescriptive title of a deposed line of sovereigns, it takes its designation from the _people_, instead of the _territory_. Thus we have Emperors and Kings of the French, and a King of the Belgians. At the period of which we have been speaking, under similar circumstances a different alternative presented itself. The Chieftain who would no longer call himself King of the tribe must claim to be Emperor of the world. Thus, when the hereditary Mayors of the Palace had ceased to compromise with the monarchs they had long since virtually dethroned, they soon became unwilling to call themselves Kings of the Franks, a title which belonged to the displaced Merovings; but they could not style themselves Kings of France, for such a designation, though apparently not unknown, was not a title of dignity. Accordingly they came forward as aspirants to universal empire. Their motive has been greatly misapprehended. It has been taken for granted by recent French writers that Charlemagne was far before his age, quite as much in the character of his designs as in the energy with which he prosecuted them. Whether it be true or not that anybody is at any time before his age, it is certainly true that Charlemagne, in aiming at an unlimited dominion, was emphatically taking the only course which the characteristic ideas of his age permitted him to follow. Of his intellectual eminence there cannot be a question, but it is proved by his acts and not by his theory. These singularities of view were not altered on the partition of the inheritance of Charlemagne among his three grandsons. Charles the Bald, Lewis, and Lothair were still theoretically--if it be proper to use the word--Emperors of Rome. Just as the Cæsars of the Eastern and Western Empires had each been _de jure_ emperor of the whole world, with _de facto_ control over half of it, so the three Carlovingians appear to have considered their power as limited, but their title as unqualified. The same speculative universality of sovereignty continued to be associated with the Imperial throne after the second division on the death of Charles the Fat, and, indeed, was never thoroughly dissociated from it so long as the empire of Germany lasted. Territorial sovereignty--the view which connects sovereignty with the possession of a limited portion of the earth's surface--was distinctly an offshoot, though a tardy one, of _feudalism_. This might have been expected _à priori_, for it was feudalism which for the first time linked personal duties, and by consequence personal rights, to the ownership of land. Whatever be the proper view of its origin and legal nature, the best mode of vividly picturing to ourselves the feudal organisation is to begin with the basis, to consider the relation of the tenant to the patch of soil which created and limited his services--and then to mount up, through narrowing circles of super-feudation, till we approximate to the apex of the system. Where that summit exactly was during the later portion of the dark ages it is not easy to decide. Probably, wherever the conception of tribe sovereignty had really decayed, the topmost point was always assigned to the supposed successor of the Cæsars of the West. But before long, when the actual sphere of Imperial authority had immensely contracted, and when the emperors had concentrated the scanty remains of their power upon Germany and North Italy, the highest feudal superiors in all the outlying portions of the former Carlovingian empire found themselves practically without a supreme head. Gradually they habituated themselves to the new situation, and the fact of immunity put at last out of sight the theory of dependence; but there are many symptoms that this change was not quite easily accomplished; and, indeed, to the impression that in the nature of things there must necessarily be a culminating domination somewhere, we may, no doubt, refer the increasing tendency to attribute secular superiority to the See of Rome. The completion of the first stage in the revolution of opinion is marked, of course, by the accession of the Capetian dynasty in France. When the feudal prince of a limited territory surrounding Paris began, from the accident of his uniting an unusual number of suzerainties in his own person, to call himself _King of France_, he became king in quite a new sense, a sovereign standing in the same relation to the soil of France as the baron to his estate, the tenant to his freehold. The precedent, however, was as influential as it was novel, and the form of the monarchy in France had visible effects in hastening changes which were elsewhere proceeding in the same direction. The kingship of our Anglo-Saxon regal houses was midway between the chieftainship of a tribe and a territorial supremacy; but the superiority of the Norman monarchs, imitated from that of the King of France, was distinctly a territorial sovereignty. Every subsequent dominion which was established or consolidated was formed on the later model. Spain, Naples, and the principalities founded on the ruins of municipal freedom in Italy, were all under rulers whose sovereignty was territorial. Few things, I may add, are more curious than the gradual lapse of the _Venetians_ from one view to the other. At the commencement of its foreign conquests, the republic regarded itself as an antitype of the Roman commonwealth, governing a number of subject provinces. Move a century onwards, and you find that it wishes to be looked upon as a corporate sovereign, claiming the rights of a feudal suzerain over its possessions in Italy and the Ægean. During the period through which the popular ideas on the subject of sovereignty were undergoing this remarkable change, the system which stood in the place of what we now call International Law, was heterogeneous in form and inconsistent in the principles to which it appealed. Over so much of Europe as was comprised in the Romano-German empire, the connection of the confederate states was regulated by the complex and as yet incomplete mechanism of the Imperial constitution; and, surprising as it may seem to us, it was a favourite notion of German lawyers that the relations of commonwealths, whether inside or outside the empire, ought to be regulated not by the _Jus Gentium_, but by the pure Roman jurisprudence, of which Cæsar was still the centre. This doctrine was less confidently repudiated in the outlying countries than we might have supposed antecedently; but, substantially, through the rest of Europe feudal subordinations furnished a substitute for a public law; and when those were undetermined or ambiguous, there lay behind, in theory at least, a supreme regulating force in the authority of the head of the Church. It is certain, however, that both feudal and ecclesiastical influences were rapidly decaying during the fifteenth, and even the fourteenth century; and if we closely examine the current pretexts of wars, and the avowed motives of alliances, it will be seen that, step by step with the displacement of the old principles, the views afterwards harmonised and consolidated by Ayala and Grotius were making considerable progress, though it was silent and but slow. Whether the fusion of all the sources of authority would ultimately have evolved a system of international relations, and whether that system would have exhibited material differences from the fabric of Grotius, is not now possible to decide, for as a matter of fact the Reformation annihilated all its potential elements except one. Beginning in Germany, it divided the princes of the empire by a gulf too broad to be bridged over by the Imperial supremacy, even if the Imperial superior had stood neutral. He, however, was forced to take colour with the church against the reformers; the Pope was, as a matter of course, in the same predicament; and thus the two authorities to whom belonged the office of mediation between combatants became themselves the chiefs of one great faction in the schism of the nations. Feudalism, already enfeebled and discredited as a principle of public relations, furnished no bond whatever which was stable enough to countervail the alliances of religion. In a condition, therefore, of public law which was little less than chaotic, those views of a state system to which the Roman jurisconsults were supposed to have given their sanction alone remained standing. The shape, the symmetry, and the prominence which they assumed in the hands of Grotius are known to every educated man; but the great marvel of the Treatise "De Jure Belli et Pacis," was its rapid, complete, and universal success. The horrors of the Thirty Years' War, the boundless terror and pity which the unbridled license of the soldiery was exciting, must, no doubt, be taken to explain that success in some measure, but they do not wholly account for it. Very little penetration into the ideas of that age is required to convince one that if the ground plan of the international edifice which was sketched in the great book of Grotius had not appeared to be theoretically perfect, it would have been discarded by jurists and neglected by statesmen and soldiers. It is obvious that the speculative perfection of the Grotian system is intimately connected with that conception of territorial sovereignty which we have been discussing. The theory of International Law assumes that commonwealths are, relatively to each other, in a state of nature; but the component atoms of a natural society must, by the fundamental assumption, be insulated and independent of each other. If there be a higher power connecting them, however slightly and occasionally by the claim of common supremacy, the very conception of a common superior introduces the notion of positive law, and excludes the idea of a law natural. It follows, therefore, that if the universal suzerainty of an Imperial head had been admitted even in bare theory, the labours of Grotius would have been idle. Nor is this the only point of junction between modern public law and those views of sovereignty of which I have endeavoured to describe the development. I have said that there are entire departments of international jurisprudence which consist of the Roman Law of Property. What then is the inference? It is, that if there had been no such change as I have described in the estimate of sovereignty--if sovereignty had not been associated with the proprietorship of a limited portion of the earth, had not, in other words, become territorial--three parts of the Grotian theory would have been incapable of application. CHAPTER V PRIMITIVE SOCIETY AND ANCIENT LAW The necessity of submitting the subject of jurisprudence to scientific treatment has never been entirely lost sight of in modern times, and the essays which the consciousness of this necessity has produced have proceeded from minds of very various calibre, but there is not much presumption, I think, in asserting that what has hitherto stood in the place of a science has for the most part been a set of guesses, those very guesses of the Roman lawyers which were examined in the two preceding chapters. A series of explicit statements, recognising and adopting these conjectural theories of a natural state, and of a system of principles congenial to it, has been continued with but brief interruption from the days of their inventors to our own. They appear in the annotations of the Glossators who founded modern jurisprudence, and in the writings of the scholastic jurists who succeeded them. They are visible in the dogmas of the canonists. They are thrust into prominence by those civilians of marvellous erudition, who flourished at the revival of ancient letters. Grotius and his successors invested them not less with brilliancy and plausibility than with practical importance. They may be read in the introductory chapters of our own Blackstone, who has transcribed them textually from Burlamaqui, and wherever the manuals published in the present day for the guidance of the student or the practitioner begin with any discussion of the first principles of law, it always resolves itself into a restatement of the Roman hypothesis. It is however from the disguises with which these conjectures sometimes clothe themselves, quite as much as from their native form, that we gain an adequate idea of the subtlety with which they mix themselves in human thought. The Lockeian theory of the origin of Law in a Social Compact scarcely conceals its Roman derivation, and indeed is only the dress by which the ancient views were rendered more attractive to a particular generation of the moderns; but on the other hand the theory of Hobbes on the same subject was purposely devised to repudiate the reality of a law of nature as conceived by the Romans and their disciples. Yet these two theories, which long divided the reflecting politicians of England into hostile camps, resemble each other strictly in their fundamental assumption of a non-historic, unverifiable, condition of the race. Their authors differed as to the characteristics of the præ-social state, and as to the nature of the abnormal action by which men lifted themselves out of it into that social organisation with which alone we are acquainted, but they agreed in thinking that a great chasm separated man in his primitive condition from man in society, and this notion we cannot doubt that they borrowed, consciously or unconsciously, from the Romans. If indeed the phenomena of law be regarded in the way in which these theorists regarded them--that is, as one vast complex whole--it is not surprising that the mind should often evade the task it has set to itself by falling back on some ingenious conjecture which (plausibly interpreted) will seem to reconcile everything, or else that it should sometimes abjure in despair the labour of systematization. From the theories of jurisprudence which have the same speculative basis as the Roman doctrine two of much celebrity must be excepted. The first of them is that associated with the great name of Montesquieu. Though there are some ambiguous expressions in the early part of the _Esprit des Lois_, which seem to show its writer's unwillingness to break quite openly with the views hitherto popular, the general drift of the book is certainly to indicate a very different conception of its subject from any which had been entertained before. It has often been noticed that, amidst the vast variety of examples which, in its immense width of survey, it sweeps together from supposed systems of jurisprudence, there is an evident anxiety to thrust into especial prominence those manners and institutions which astonish the civilised reader by their uncouthness, strangeness, or indecency. The inference constantly suggested is, that laws are the creatures of climate, local situation, accident, or imposture--the fruit of any causes except those which appear to operate with tolerable constancy. Montesquieu seems, in fact, to have looked on the nature of man as entirely plastic, as passively reproducing the impressions, and submitting implicitly to the impulses, which it receives from without. And here no doubt lies the error which vitiates his system as a system. He greatly underrates the stability of human nature. He pays little or no regard to the inherited qualities of the race, those qualities which each generation receives from its predecessors, and transmits but slightly altered to the generation which follows it. It is quite true, indeed, that no complete account can be given of social phenomena, and consequently of laws, till due allowance has been made for those modifying causes which are noticed in the _Esprit des Lois_; but their number and their force appear to have been overestimated by Montesquieu. Many of the anomalies which he parades have since been shown to rest on false report or erroneous construction, and of those which remain not a few prove the permanence rather than the variableness of man's nature, since they are relics of older stages of the race which have obstinately defied the influences that have elsewhere had effect. The truth is that the stable part of our mental, moral, and physical constitution is the largest part of it, and the resistance it opposes to change is such that, though the variations of human society in a portion of the world are plain enough, they are neither so rapid nor so extensive that their amount, character, and general direction cannot be ascertained. An approximation to truth may be all that is attainable with our present knowledge, but there is no reason for thinking that is so remote, or (what is the same thing) that it requires so much future correction, as to be entirely useless and uninstructive. The other theory which has been adverted to is the historical theory of Bentham. This theory which is obscurely (and, it might even be said, timidly) propounded in several parts of Bentham's works is quite distinct from that analysis of the conception of law which he commenced in the "Fragment on Government," and which was more recently completed by Mr. John Austin. The resolution of a law into a command of a particular nature, imposed under special conditions, does not affect to do more than protect us against a difficulty--a most formidable one certainly--of language. The whole question remains open as to the motives of societies in imposing these commands on themselves, as to the connection of these commands with each other, and the nature of their dependence on those which preceded them, and which they have superseded. Bentham suggests the answer that societies modify, and have always modified, their laws according to modifications of their views of general expediency. It is difficult to say that this proposition is false, but it certainly appears to be unfruitful. For that which seems expedient to a society, or rather to the governing part of it, when it alters a rule of law is surely the same thing as the object, whatever it may be, which it has in view when it makes the change. Expediency and the greatest good are nothing more than different names for the impulse which prompts the modification; and when we lay down expediency as the rule of change in law or opinion, all we get by the proposition is the substitution of an express term for a term which is necessarily implied when we say that a change takes place. There is such wide-spread dissatisfaction with existing theories of jurisprudence, and so general a conviction that they do not really solve the questions they pretend to dispose of, as to justify the suspicion that some line of inquiry necessary to a perfect result has been incompletely followed or altogether omitted by their authors. And indeed there is one remarkable omission with which all these speculations are chargeable, except perhaps those of Montesquieu. They take no account of what law has actually been at epochs remote from the particular period at which they made their appearance. Their originators carefully observed the institutions of their own age and civilisation, and those of other ages and civilisations with which they had some degree of intellectual sympathy, but, when they turned their attention to archaic states of society which exhibited much superficial difference from their own, they uniformly ceased to observe and began guessing. The mistake which they committed is therefore analogous to the error of one who, in investigating the laws of the material universe, should commence by contemplating the existing physical world as a whole, instead of beginning with the particles which are its simplest ingredients. One does not certainly see why such a scientific solecism should be more defensible in jurisprudence than in any other region of thought. It would seem antecedently that we ought to commence with the simplest social forms in a state as near as possible to their rudimentary condition. In other words, if we followed the course usual in such inquiries, we should penetrate as far up as we could in the history of primitive societies. The phenomena which early societies present us with are not easy at first to understand, but the difficulty of grappling with them bears no proportion to the perplexities which beset us in considering the baffling entanglement of modern social organisation. It is a difficulty arising from their strangeness and uncouthness, not from their number and complexity. One does not readily get over the surprise which they occasion when looked at from a modern point of view; but when that is surmounted they are few enough and simple enough. But even if they gave more trouble than they do, no pains would be wasted in ascertaining the germs out of which has assuredly been unfolded every form of moral restraint which controls our actions and shapes our conduct at the present moment. The rudiments of the social state, so far as they are known to us at all, are known through testimony of three sorts--accounts by contemporary observers of civilisations less advanced than their own, the records which particular races have preserved concerning their primitive history, and ancient law. The first kind of evidence is the best we could have expected. As societies do not advance concurrently, but at different rates of progress, there have been epochs at which men trained to habits of methodical observation have really been in a position to watch and describe the infancy of mankind. Tacitus made the most of such an opportunity; but the _Germany_, unlike most celebrated classical books, has not induced others to follow the excellent example set by its author, and the amount of this sort of testimony which we possess is exceedingly small. The lofty contempt which a civilised people entertains for barbarous neighbours has caused a remarkable negligence in observing them, and this carelessness has been aggravated at times by fear, by religious prejudice, and even by the use of these very terms--civilisation and barbarism--which convey to most persons the impression of a difference not merely in degree but in kind. Even the _Germany_ has been suspected by some critics of sacrificing fidelity to poignancy of contrast and picturesqueness of narrative. Other histories too, which have been handed down to us among the archives of the people to whose infancy they relate, have been thought distorted by the pride of race or by the religious sentiment of a newer age. It is important then to observe that these suspicions, whether groundless or rational, do not attach to a great deal of archaic law. Much of the old law which has descended to us was preserved merely because it was old. Those who practised and obeyed it did not pretend to understand it; and in some cases they even ridiculed and despised it. They offered no account of it except that it had come down to them from their ancestors. If we confine our attention, then, to those fragments of ancient institutions which cannot reasonably be supposed to have been tampered with, we are able to gain a clear conception of certain great characteristics of the society to which they originally belonged. Advancing a step further, we can apply our knowledge to systems of law which, like the Code of Menu, are as a whole of suspicious authenticity; and, using the key we have obtained, we are in a position to discriminate those portions of them which are truly archaic from those which have been affected by the prejudices, interests, or ignorance of the compiler. It will at least be acknowledged that, if the materials for this process are sufficient, and if the comparisons be accurately executed, the methods followed are as little objectionable as those which have led to such surprising results in comparative philology. The effect of the evidence derived from comparative jurisprudence is to establish that view of the primeval condition of the human race which is known as the Patriarchal Theory. There is no doubt, of course, that this theory was originally based on the Scriptural history of the Hebrew patriarchs in Lower Asia; but, as has been explained already, its connection with Scripture rather militated than otherwise against its reception as a complete theory, since the majority of the inquirers who till recently addressed themselves with most earnestness to the colligation of social phenomena, were either influenced by the strongest prejudice against Hebrew antiquities or by the strongest desire to construct their system without the assistance of religious records. Even now there is perhaps a disposition to undervalue these accounts, or rather to decline generalising from them, as forming part of the traditions of a Semitic people. It is to be noted, however, that the legal testimony comes nearly exclusively from the institutions of societies belonging to the Indo-European stock, the Romans, Hindoos, and Sclavonians supplying the greater part of it; and indeed the difficulty at the present stage of the inquiry, is to know where to stop, to say of what races of men it is _not_ allowable to lay down that the society in which they are united was originally organised on the patriarchal model. The chief lineaments of such a society, as collected from the early chapters in Genesis, I need not attempt to depict with any minuteness, both because they are familiar to most of us from our earliest childhood, and because, from the interest once attaching to the controversy which takes its name from the debate between Locke and Filmer, they fill a whole chapter, though not a very profitable one, in English literature. The points which lie on the surface of the history are these:--The eldest male parent--the eldest ascendant--is absolutely supreme in his household. His dominion extends to life and death, and is as unqualified over his children and their houses as over his slaves; indeed the relations of sonship and serfdom appear to differ in little beyond the higher capacity which the child in blood possesses of becoming one day the head of a family himself. The flocks and herds of the children are the flocks and herds of the father, and the possessions of the parent, which he holds in a representative rather than in a proprietary character, are equally divided at his death among his descendants in the first degree, the eldest son sometimes receiving a double share under the name of birthright, but more generally endowed with no hereditary advantage beyond an honorary precedence. A less obvious inference from the Scriptural accounts is that they seem to plant us on the traces of the breach which is first effected in the empire of the parent. The families of Jacob and Esau separate and form two nations; but the families of Jacob's children hold together and become a people. This looks like the immature germ of a state or commonwealth, and of an order of rights superior to the claims of family relation. If I were attempting for the more special purposes of the jurist to express compendiously the characteristics of the situation in which mankind disclose themselves at the dawn of their history, I should be satisfied to quote a few verses from the _Odyssee_ of Homer: [Greek: toisin d out agorai boulêphoroi oute themistes. * * * themisteuei de ekastos paidôn êd alochôn, oud allêlôn alegousin.] "They have neither assemblies for consultation nor _themistes_, but every one exercises jurisdiction over his wives and his children, and they pay no regard to one another." These lines are applied to the Cyclops, and it may not perhaps be an altogether fanciful idea when I suggest that the Cyclops is Homer's type of an alien and less advanced civilisation; for the almost physical loathing which a primitive community feels for men of widely different manners from its own usually expresses itself by describing them as monsters, such as giants, or even (which is almost always the case in Oriental mythology) as demons. However that may be, the verses condense in themselves the sum of the hints which are given us by legal antiquities. Men are first seen distributed in perfectly insulated groups, held together by obedience to the parent. Law is the parent's word, but it is not yet in the condition of those _themistes_ which were analysed in the first chapter of this work. When we go forward to the state of society in which these early legal conceptions show themselves as formed, we find that they still partake of the mystery and spontaneity which must have seemed to characterise a despotic father's commands, but that at the same time, inasmuch as they proceed from a sovereign, they presuppose a union of family groups in some wider organisation. The next question is, what is the nature of this union and the degree of intimacy which it involves? It is just here that archaic law renders us one of the greatest of its services and fills up a gap which otherwise could only have been bridged by conjecture. It is full, in all its provinces, of the clearest indications that society in primitive times was not what it is assumed to be at present, a collection of _individuals_. In fact, and in the view of the men who composed it, it was _an aggregation of families_. The contrast may be most forcibly expressed by saying that the _unit_ of an ancient society was the Family, of a modern society the Individual. We must be prepared to find in ancient law all the consequences of this difference. It is so framed as to be adjusted to a system of small independent corporations. It is therefore scanty, because it is supplemented by the despotic commands of the heads of households. It is ceremonious, because the transactions to which it pays regard resemble international concerns much more than the quick play of intercourse between individuals. Above all it has a peculiarity of which the full importance cannot be shown at present. It takes a view of _life_ wholly unlike any which appears in developed jurisprudence. Corporations _never die_, and accordingly primitive law considers the entities with which it deals, _i.e._ the patriarchal or family groups, as perpetual and inextinguishable. This view is closely allied to the peculiar aspect under which, in very ancient times, moral attributes present themselves. The moral elevation and moral debasement of the individual appear to be confounded with, or postponed to, the merits and offences of the group to which the individual belongs. If the community sins, its guilt is much more than the sum of the offences committed by its members; the crime is a corporate act, and extends in its consequences to many more persons than have shared in its actual perpetration. If, on the other hand, the individual is conspicuously guilty, it is his children, his kinsfolk, his tribesmen, or his fellow-citizens, who suffer with him, and sometimes for him. It thus happens that the ideas of moral responsibility and retribution often seem to be more clearly realised at very ancient than at more advanced periods, for, as the family group is immortal, and its liability to punishment indefinite, the primitive mind is not perplexed by the questions which become troublesome as soon as the individual is conceived as altogether separate from the group. One step in the transition from the ancient and simple view of the matter to the theological or metaphysical explanations of later days is marked by the early Greek notion of an inherited curse. The bequest received by his posterity from the original criminal was not a liability to punishment, but a liability to the commission of fresh offences which drew with them a condign retribution; and thus the responsibility of the family was reconciled with the newer phase of thought which limited the consequences of crime to the person of the actual delinquent. It would be a very simple explanation of the origin of society if we could base a general conclusion on the hint furnished us by the scriptural example already adverted to, and could suppose that communities began to exist wherever a family held together instead of separating at the death of its patriarchal chieftain. In most of the Greek states and in Rome there long remained the vestiges of an ascending series of groups out of which the State was at first constituted. The Family, House, and Tribe of the Romans may be taken as the type of them, and they are so described to us that we can scarcely help conceiving them as a system of concentric circles which have gradually expanded from the same point. The elementary group is the Family, connected by common subjection to the highest male ascendant. The aggregation of Families forms the Gens or House. The aggregation of Houses makes the Tribe. The aggregation of Tribes constitutes the Commonwealth. Are we at liberty to follow these indications, and to lay down that the commonwealth is a collection of persons united by common descent from the progenitor of an original family? Of this we may at least be certain, that all ancient societies regarded themselves as having proceeded from one original stock, and even laboured under an incapacity for comprehending any reason except this for their holding together in political union. The history of political ideas begins, in fact, with the assumption that kinship in blood is the sole possible ground of community in political functions; nor is there any of those subversions of feeling, which we term emphatically revolutions, so startling and so complete as the change which is accomplished when some other principle--such as that, for instance, of _local contiguity_--establishes itself for the first time as the basis of common political action. It may be affirmed then of early commonwealths that their citizens considered all the groups in which they claimed membership to be founded on common lineage. What was obviously true of the Family was believed to be true first of the House, next of the Tribe, lastly of the State. And yet we find that along with this belief, or, if we may use the word, this theory, each community preserved records or traditions which distinctly showed that the fundamental assumption was false. Whether we look to the Greek states, or to Rome, or to the Teutonic aristocracies in Ditmarsh which furnished Niebuhr with so many valuable illustrations, or to the Celtic clan associations, or to that strange social organisation of the Sclavonic Russians and Poles which has only lately attracted notice, everywhere we discover traces of passages in their history when men of alien descent were admitted to, and amalgamated with, the original brotherhood. Adverting to Rome singly, we perceive that the primary group, the Family, was being constantly adulterated by the practice of adoption, while stories seem to have been always current respecting the exotic extraction of one of the original Tribes and concerning a large addition to the houses made by one of the early kings. The composition of the state, uniformly assumed to be natural, was nevertheless known to be in great measure artificial. This conflict between belief or theory and notorious fact is at first sight extremely perplexing; but what it really illustrates is the efficiency with which Legal Fictions do their work in the infancy of society. The earliest and most extensively employed of legal fictions was that which permitted family relations to be created artificially, and there is none to which I conceive mankind to be more deeply indebted. If it had never existed, I do not see how any one of the primitive groups, whatever were their nature, could have absorbed another, or on what terms any two of them could have combined, except those of absolute superiority on one side and absolute subjection on the other. No doubt, when with our modern ideas we contemplate the union of independent communities, we can suggest a hundred modes of carrying it out, the simplest of all being that the individuals comprised in the coalescing groups shall vote or act together according to local propinquity; but the idea that a number of persons should exercise political rights in common simply because they happened to live within the same topographical limits was utterly strange and monstrous to primitive antiquity. The expedient which in those times commanded favour was that the incoming population should _feign themselves_ to be descended from the same stock as the people on whom they were engrafted; and it is precisely the good faith of this fiction, and the closeness with which it seemed to imitate reality, that we cannot now hope to understand. One circumstance, however, which it is important to recollect, is that the men who formed the various political groups were certainly in the habit of meeting together periodically, for the purpose of acknowledging and consecrating their association by common sacrifices. Strangers amalgamated with the brotherhood were doubtless admitted to these sacrifices; and when that was once done we can believe that it seemed equally easy, or not more difficult, to conceive them as sharing in the common lineage. The conclusion then which is suggested by the evidence is, not that all early societies were formed by descent from the same ancestor, but that all of them which had any permanence and solidity either were so descended or assumed that they were. An indefinite number of causes may have shattered the primitive groups, but wherever their ingredients recombined, it was on the model or principle of an association of kindred. Whatever were the fact, all thought, language, and law adjusted themselves to the assumption. But though all this seems to me to be established with reference to the communities with whose records we are acquainted, the remainder of their history sustains the position before laid down as to the essentially transient and terminable influence of the most powerful Legal Fictions. At some point of time--probably as soon as they felt themselves strong enough to resist extrinsic pressure--all these states ceased to recruit themselves by factitious extensions of consanguinity. They necessarily, therefore, became Aristocracies, in all cases where a fresh population from any cause collected around them which could put in no claim to community of origin. Their sternness in maintaining the central principle of a system under which political rights were attainable on no terms whatever except connection in blood, real or artificial, taught their inferiors another principle, which proved to be endowed with a far higher measure of vitality. This was the principle of _local contiguity_, now recognised everywhere as the condition of community in political functions. A new set of political ideas came at once into existence, which, being those of ourselves, our contemporaries, and in great measure of our ancestors, rather obscure our perception of the older theory which they vanquished and dethroned. The Family then is the type of an archaic society in all the modifications which it was capable of assuming; but the family here spoken of is not exactly the family as understood by a modern. In order to reach the ancient conception we must give to our modern ideas an important extension and an important limitation. We must look on the family as constantly enlarged by the absorption of strangers within its circle, and we must try to regard the fiction of adoption as so closely simulating the reality of kinship that neither law nor opinion makes the slightest difference between a real and an adoptive connection. On the other hand, the persons theoretically amalgamated into a family by their common descent are practically held together by common obedience to their highest living ascendant, the father, grandfather, or great-grandfather. The patriarchal authority of a chieftain is as necessary an ingredient in the notion of the family group as the fact (or assumed fact) of its having sprung from his loins; and hence we must understand that if there be any persons who, however truly included in the brotherhood by virtue of their blood-relationship, have nevertheless _de facto_ withdrawn themselves from the empire of its ruler, they are always, in the beginnings of law, considered as lost to the family. It is this patriarchal aggregate--the modern family thus cut down on one side and extended on the other--which meets us on the threshold of primitive jurisprudence. Older probably than the State, the Tribe, and the House, it left traces of itself on private law long after the House and the Tribe had been forgotten, and long after consanguinity had ceased to be associated with the composition of States. It will be found to have stamped itself on all the great departments of jurisprudence, and may be detected, I think, as the true source of many of their most important and most durable characteristics. At the outset, the peculiarities of law in its most ancient state lead us irresistibly to the conclusion that it took precisely the same view of the family group which is taken of individual men by the systems of rights and duties now prevalent throughout Europe. There are societies open to our observation at this very moment whose laws and usages can scarcely be explained unless they are supposed never to have emerged from this primitive condition; but in communities more fortunately circumstanced the fabric of jurisprudence fell gradually to pieces, and if we carefully observe the disintegration we shall perceive that it took place principally in those portions of each system which were most deeply affected by the primitive conception of the family. In one all-important instance, that of the Roman law, the change was effected so slowly, that from epoch to epoch we can observe the line and direction which it followed, and can even give some idea of the ultimate result to which it was tending. And, in pursuing this last inquiry, we need not suffer ourselves to be stopped by the imaginary barrier which separates the modern from the ancient world. For one effect of that mixture of refined Roman law with primitive barbaric usage, which is known to us by the deceptive name of feudalism, was to revive many features of archaic jurisprudence which had died out of the Roman world, so that the decomposition which had seemed to be over commenced again, and to some extent is still proceeding. On a few systems of law the family organisation of the earliest society has left a plain and broad mark in the life-long authority of the Father or other ancestor over the person and property of his descendants, an authority which we may conveniently call by its later Roman name of Patria Potestas. No feature of the rudimentary associations of mankind is deposed to by a greater amount of evidence than this, and yet none seems to have disappeared so generally and so rapidly from the usages of advancing communities. Gaius, writing under the Antonines, describes the institution as distinctively Roman. It is true that, had he glanced across the Rhine or the Danube to those tribes of barbarians which were exciting the curiosity of some among his contemporaries, he would have seen examples of patriarchal power in its crudest form; and in the far East a branch of the same ethnical stock from which the Romans sprang was repeating their Patria Potestas in some of its most technical incidents. But among the races understood to be comprised within the Roman empire, Gaius could find none which exhibited an institution resembling the Roman "Power of the Father," except only the Asiatic Galatæ. There are reasons, indeed, as it seems to me, why the direct authority of the ancestor should, in the greater number of progressive societies, very shortly assume humbler proportions than belonged to it in their earliest state. The implicit obedience of rude men to their parent is doubtless a primary fact, which it would be absurd to explain away altogether by attributing to them any calculation of its advantages; but, at the same time, if it is natural in the sons to obey the father, it is equally natural that they should look to him for superior strength or superior wisdom. Hence, when societies are placed under circumstances which cause an especial value to be attached to bodily and mental vigour, there is an influence at work which tends to confine the Patria Potestas to the cases where its possessor is actually skilful and strong. When we obtain our first glimpse of organised Hellenic society, it seems as if supereminent wisdom would keep alive the father's power in persons whose bodily strength had decayed; but the relations of Ulysses and Laertes in the _Odyssee_ appear to show that, where extraordinary valour and sagacity were united in the son, the father in the decrepitude of age was deposed from the headship of the family. In the mature Greek jurisprudence, the rule advances a few steps on the practice hinted at in the Homeric literature; and though very many traces of stringent family obligation remain, the direct authority of the parent is limited, as in European codes, to the nonage or minority of the children, or, in other words, to the period during which their mental and physical inferiority may always be presumed. The Roman law, however, with its remarkable tendency to innovate on ancient usage only just so far as the exigency of the commonwealth may require, preserves both the primeval institution and the natural limitation to which I conceive it to have been subject. In every relation of life in which the collective community might have occasion to avail itself of his wisdom and strength, for all purposes of counsel or of war, the filius familias, or Son under Power, was as free as his father. It was a maxim of Roman jurisprudence that the Patria Potestas did not extend to the Jus Publicum. Father and son voted together in the city, and fought side by side in the field; indeed, the son, as general, might happen to command the father, or, as magistrate, decide on his contracts and punish his delinquencies. But in all the relations created by Private Law, the son lived under a domestic despotism which, considering the severity it retained to the last, and the number of centuries through which it endured, constitutes one of the strangest problems in legal history. The Patria Potestas of the Romans, which is necessarily our type of the primeval paternal authority, is equally difficult to understand as an institution of civilised life, whether we consider its incidence on the person or its effects on property. It is to be regretted that a chasm which exists in its history cannot be more completely filled. So far as regards the person, the parent, when our information commences, has over his children the _jus vitæ necisque_, the power of life and death, and _à fortiori_ of uncontrolled corporal chastisement; he can modify their personal condition at pleasure; he can give a wife to his son; he can give his daughter in marriage; he can divorce his children of either sex; he can transfer them to another family by adoption; and he can sell them. Late in the Imperial period we find vestiges of all these powers, but they are reduced within very narrow limits. The unqualified right of domestic chastisement has become a right of bringing domestic offences under the cognisance of the civil magistrate; the privilege of dictating marriage has declined into a conditional veto; the liberty of selling has been virtually abolished, and adoption itself, destined to lose almost all its ancient importance in the reformed system of Justinian, can no longer be effected without the assent of the child transferred to the adoptive parentage. In short, we are brought very close to the verge of the ideas which have at length prevailed in the modern world. But between these widely distant epochs there is an interval of obscurity, and we can only guess at the causes which permitted the Patria Potestas to last as long as it did by rendering it more tolerable than it appears. The active discharge of the most important among the duties which the son owed to the state must have tempered the authority of his parent if they did not annul it. We can readily persuade ourselves that the paternal despotism could not be brought into play without great scandal against a man of full age occupying a high civil office. During the earlier history, however, such cases of practical emancipation would be rare compared with those which must have been created by the constant wars of the Roman republic. The military tribune and the private soldier who were in the field three-quarters of a year during the earlier contests, at a later period the proconsul in charge of a province, and the legionaries who occupied it, cannot have had practical reason to regard themselves as the slaves of a despotic master; and all these avenues of escape tended constantly to multiply themselves. Victories led to conquests, conquests to occupations; the mode of occupation by colonies was exchanged for the system of occupying provinces by standing armies. Each step in advance was a call for the expatriation of more Roman citizens and a fresh draft on the blood of the failing Latin race. We may infer, I think, that a strong sentiment in favour of the relaxation of the Patria Potestas had become fixed by the time that the pacification of the world commenced on the establishment of the Empire. The first serious blows at the ancient institution are attributed to the earlier Cæsars, and some isolated interferences of Trajan and Hadrian seem to have prepared the ground for a series of express enactments which, though we cannot always determine their dates, we know to have limited the father's powers on the one hand, and on the other to have multiplied facilities for their voluntary surrender. The older mode of getting rid of the Potestas, by effecting a triple sale of the son's person, is evidence, I may remark, of a very early feeling against the unnecessary prolongation of the powers. The rule which declared that the son should be free after having been three times sold by his father seems to have been originally meant to entail penal consequences on a practice which revolted even the imperfect morality of the primitive Roman. But even before the publication of the Twelve Tables it had been turned, by the ingenuity of the jurisconsults, into an expedient for destroying the parental authority wherever the father desired that it should cease. Many of the causes which helped to mitigate the stringency of the father's power over the persons of his children are doubtless among those which do not lie upon the face of history. We cannot tell how far public opinion may have paralysed an authority which the law conferred, or how far natural affection may have rendered it endurable. But though the powers over the _person_ may have been latterly nominal, the whole tenour of the extant Roman jurisprudence suggests that the father's rights over the son's _property_ were always exercised without scruple to the full extent to which they were sanctioned by law. There is nothing to astonish us in the latitude of these rights when they first show themselves. The ancient law of Rome forbade the Children under Power to hold property apart from their parent, or (we should rather say) never contemplated the possibility of their claiming a separate ownership. The father was entitled to take the whole of the son's acquisitions, and to enjoy the benefit of his contracts without being entangled in any compensating liability. So much as this we should expect from the constitution of the earliest Roman society, for we can hardly form a notion of the primitive family group unless we suppose that its members brought their earnings of all kinds into the common stock while they were unable to bind it by improvident individual engagements. The true enigma of the Patria Potestas does not reside here, but in the slowness with which these proprietary privileges of the parent were curtailed, and in the circumstance that, before they were seriously diminished, the whole civilised world was brought within their sphere. No innovation of any kind was attempted till the first years of the Empire, when the acquisitions of soldiers on service were withdrawn from the operation of the Patria Potestas, doubtless as part of the reward of the armies which had overthrown the free commonwealth. Three centuries afterwards the same immunity was extended to the earnings of persons who were in the civil employment of the state. Both changes were obviously limited in their application, and they were so contrived in technical form as to interfere as little as possible with the principle of Patria Potestas. A certain qualified and dependent ownership had always been recognised by the Roman law in the perquisites and savings which slaves and sons under power were not compelled to include in the household accounts, and the special name of this permissive property, Peculium, was applied to the acquisitions newly relieved from Patria Potestas, which were called in the case of soldiers Castrense Peculium, and Quasi-castrense Peculium in the case of civil servants. Other modifications of the parental privileges followed, which showed a less studious outward respect for the ancient principle. Shortly after the introduction of the Quasi-castrense Peculium, Constantine the Great took away the father's absolute control over property which his children had inherited from their mother, and reduced it to a _usufruct_, or life-interest. A few more changes of slight importance followed in the Western Empire, but the furthest point reached was in the East, under Justinian, who enacted that unless the acquisitions of the child were derived from the parent's own property, the parent's rights over them should not extend beyond enjoying their produce for the period of his life. Even this, the utmost relaxation of the Roman Patria Potestas, left it far ampler and severer than any analogous institution of the modern world. The earliest modern writers on jurisprudence remark that it was only the fiercer and ruder of the conquerors of the empire, and notably the nations of Sclavonic origin, which exhibited a Patria Potestas at all resembling that which was described in the Pandects and the Code. All the Germanic immigrants seem to have recognised a corporate union of the family under the _mund_, or authority of a patriarchal chief; but his powers are obviously only the relics of a decayed Patria Potestas, and fell far short of those enjoyed by the Roman father. The Franks are particularly mentioned as not having the Roman Institution, and accordingly the old French lawyers, even when most busily engaged in filling the interstices of barbarous custom with rules of Roman law, were obliged to protect themselves against the intrusion of the Potestas by the express maxim, _Puyssance de père en France n'a lieu_. The tenacity of the Romans in maintaining this relic of their most ancient condition is in itself remarkable, but it is less remarkable than the diffusion of the Potestas over the whole of a civilisation from which it had once disappeared. While the Castrense Peculium constituted as yet the sole exception to the father's power over property, and while his power over his children's persons was still extensive, the Roman citizenship, and with it the Patria Potestas, were spreading into every corner of the empire. Every African or Spaniard, every Gaul, Briton, or Jew, who received this honour by gift, purchase, or inheritance, placed himself under the Roman Law of Persons, and, though our authorities intimate that children born before the acquisition of citizenship could not be brought under Power against their will, children born after it and all ulterior descendants were on the ordinary footing of a Roman _filius familias_. It does not fall within the province of this treatise to examine the mechanism of the later Roman society, but I may be permitted to remark that there is little foundation for the opinion which represents the constitution of Antoninus Caracalla conferring Roman citizenship on the whole of his subjects as a measure of small importance. However we may interpret it, it must have enormously enlarged the sphere of the Patria Potestas, and it seems to me that the tightening of family relations which it effected is an agency which ought to be kept in view more than it has been, in accounting for the great moral revolution which was transforming the world. Before this branch of our subject is dismissed, it should be observed that the Paterfamilias was answerable for the delicts (or _torts_) of his Sons under Power. He was similarly liable for the torts of his slaves; but in both cases he originally possessed the singular privilege of tendering the delinquent's person in full satisfaction of the damage. The responsibility thus incurred on behalf of sons, coupled with the mutual incapacity of parent and Child under Power to sue one another, has seemed to some jurists to be best explained by the assumption of a "unity of person" between the Paterfamilias and the Filius-familias. In the chapter on Successions I shall attempt to show in what sense, and to what extent, this "unity" can be accepted as a reality. I can only say at present that these responsibilities of the Paterfamilias, and other legal phenomena which will be discussed hereafter, appear to me to point at certain _duties_ of the primitive Patriarchal chieftain which balanced his _rights_. I conceive that, if he disposed absolutely of the persons and fortune of his clansmen, this representative ownership was coextensive with a liability to provide for all members of the brotherhood out of the common fund. The difficulty is to throw ourselves out of our habitual associations sufficiently for conceiving the nature of his obligation. It was not a legal duty, for law had not yet penetrated into the precinct of the Family. To call it _moral_ is perhaps to anticipate the ideas belonging to a later stage of mental development; but the expression "moral obligation" is significant enough for our purpose, if we understand by it a duty semi-consciously followed and enforced rather by instinct and habit than by definite sanctions. The Patria Potestas, in its normal shape, has not been, and, as it seems to me, could not have been, a generally durable institution. The proof of its former universality is therefore incomplete so long as we consider it by itself; but the demonstration may be carried much further by examining other departments of ancient law which depend on it ultimately, but not by a thread of connection visible in all its parts or to all eyes. Let us turn for example to Kinship, or in other words, to the scale on which the proximity of relatives to each other is calculated in archaic jurisprudence. Here again it will be convenient to employ the Roman terms, Agnatic and Cognatic relationship. _Cognatic_ relationship is simply the conception of kinship familiar to modern ideas; it is the relationship arising through common descent from the same pair of married persons, whether the descent be traced through males or females. _Agnatic_ relationship is something very different: it excludes a number of persons whom we in our day should certainly consider of kin to ourselves, and it includes many more whom we should never reckon among our kindred. It is in truth the connection existing between the members of the Family, conceived as it was in the most ancient times. The limits of this connection are far from conterminous with those of modern relationship. Cognates then are all those persons who can trace their blood to a single ancestor and ancestress; or, if we take the strict technical meaning of the word in Roman law, they are all who trace their blood to the legitimate marriage of a common pair. "Cognation" is therefore a relative term, and the degree of connection in blood which it indicates depends on the particular marriage which is selected as the commencement of the calculation. If we begin with the marriage of father and mother, Cognation will only express the relationship of brothers and sisters; if we take that of the grandfather and grandmother, then uncles, aunts, and their descendants will also be included in the notion of Cognation, and following the same process a larger number of Cognates may be continually obtained by choosing the starting point higher and higher up in the line of ascent. All this is easily understood by a modern; but who are the Agnates? In the first place, they are all the Cognates who trace their connection exclusively through males. A table of Cognates is, of course, formed by taking each lineal ancestor in turn and including all his descendants of both sexes in the tabular view; if then, in tracing the various branches of such a genealogical table or tree, we stop whenever we come to the name of a female and pursue that particular branch or ramification no further, all who remain after the descendants of women have been excluded are Agnates, and their connection together is Agnatic Relationship. I dwell a little on the process which is practically followed in separating them from the Cognates, because it explains a memorable legal maxim, "Mulier est finis familiæ"--a woman is the terminus of the family. A female name closes the branch or twig of the genealogy in which it occurs. None of the descendants of a female are included in the primitive notion of family relationship. If the system of archaic law at which we are looking be one which admits Adoption, we must add to the Agnate thus obtained all persons, male or female, who have been brought into the Family by the artificial extension of its boundaries. But the descendants of such persons will only be Agnates, if they satisfy the conditions which have just been described. What then is the reason of this arbitrary inclusion and exclusion? Why should a conception of Kinship, so elastic as to include strangers brought into the family by adoption, be nevertheless so narrow as to shut out the descendants of a female member? To solve these questions, we must recur to the Patria Potestas. The foundation of Agnation is not the marriage of Father and Mother, but the authority of the Father. All persons are Agnatically connected together who are under the same Paternal Power, or who have been under it, or who might have been under it if their lineal ancestor had lived long enough to exercise his empire. In truth, in the primitive view, Relationship is exactly limited by Patria Potestas. Where the Potestas begins, Kinship begins; and therefore adoptive relatives are among the kindred. Where the Potestas ends, Kinship ends; so that a son emancipated by his father loses all rights of Agnation. And here we have the reason why the descendants of females are outside the limits of archaic kinship. If a woman died unmarried, she could have no legitimate descendants. If she married, her children fell under the Patria Potestas, not of her Father, but of her Husband, and thus were lost to her own family. It is obvious that the organisation of primitive societies would have been confounded, if men had called themselves relatives of their mother's relatives. The inference would have been that a person might be subject to two distinct Patriæ Potestates; but distinct Patriæ Potestates implied distinct jurisdictions, so that anybody amenable to two of them at the same time would have lived under two different dispensations. As long as the Family was an imperium in imperio, a community within the commonwealth, governed by its own institutions of which the parent was the source, the limitation of relationship to the Agnates was a necessary security against a conflict of laws in the domestic forum. The Parental Powers proper are extinguished by the death of the Parent, but Agnation is as it were a mould which retains their imprint after they have ceased to exist. Hence comes the interest of Agnation for the inquirer into the history of jurisprudence. The Powers themselves are discernible in comparatively few monuments of ancient law, but Agnatic Relationship, which implies their former existence, is discoverable almost everywhere. There are few indigenous bodies of law belonging to communities of the Indo-European stock, which do not exhibit peculiarities in the most ancient part of their structure which are clearly referable to Agnation. In Hindoo law, for example, which is saturated with the primitive notions of family dependency, kinship is entirely Agnatic, and I am informed that in Hindoo genealogies the names of women are generally omitted altogether. The same view of relationship pervades so much of the laws of the races who overran the Roman Empire as appears to have really formed part of their primitive usage, and we may suspect that it would have perpetuated itself even more than it has in modern European jurisprudence, if it had not been for the vast influence of the later Roman law on modern thought. The Prætors early laid hold on Cognation as the _natural_ form of kinship, and spared no pains in purifying their system from the older conception. Their ideas have descended to us, but still traces of Agnation are to be seen in many of the modern rules of succession after death. The exclusion of females and their children from governmental functions, commonly attributed to the usage of the Salian Franks, has certainly an agnatic origin, being descended from the ancient German rule of succession to allodial property. In Agnation too is to be sought the explanation of that extraordinary rule of English Law, only recently repealed, which prohibited brothers of the half-blood from succeeding to one another's lands. In the Customs of Normandy, the rule applies to _uterine_ brothers only, that is, to brothers by the same mother but not by the same father; and, limited in this way, it is a strict deduction from the system of Agnation, under which uterine brothers are no relations at all to one another. When it was transplanted to England, the English judges, who had no clue to its principle, interpreted it as a general prohibition against the succession of the half-blood, and extended it to _consanguineous_ brothers, that is to sons of the same father by different wives. In all the literature which enshrines the pretended philosophy of law, there is nothing more curious than the pages of elaborate sophistry in which Blackstone attempts to explain and justify the exclusion of the half-blood. It may be shown, I think, that the Family, as held together by the Patria Potestas, is the nidus out of which the entire Law of Persons has germinated. Of all the chapters of that Law the most important is that which is concerned with the status of Females. It has just been stated that Primitive Jurisprudence, though it does not allow a Woman to communicate any rights of Agnation to her descendants, includes herself nevertheless in the Agnatic bond. Indeed, the relation of a female to the family in which she was born is much stricter, closer, and more durable than that which unites her male kinsmen. We have several times laid down that early law takes notice of Families only; this is the same thing as saying that it only takes notice of persons exercising Patria Potestas, and accordingly the only principle on which it enfranchises a son or grandson at the death of his Parent, is a consideration of the capacity inherent in such son or grandson to become himself the head of a new family and the root of a new set of Parental Powers. But a woman, of course, has no capacity of the kind, and no title accordingly to the liberation which it confers. There is therefore a peculiar contrivance of archaic jurisprudence for retaining her in the bondage of the Family for life. This is the institution known to the oldest Roman law as the Perpetual Tutelage of Women, under which a Female, though relieved from her Parent's authority by his decease, continues subject through life to her nearest male relations as her Guardians. Perpetual Guardianship is obviously neither more nor less than an artificial prolongation of the Patria Potestas, when for other purposes it has been dissolved. In India, the system survives in absolute completeness, and its operation is so strict that a Hindoo Mother frequently becomes the ward of her own sons. Even in Europe, the laws of the Scandinavian nations respecting women preserved it until quite recently. The invaders of the Western Empire had it universally among their indigenous usages, and indeed their ideas on the subject of Guardianship, in all its forms, were among the most retrogressive of those which they introduced into the Western world. But from the mature Roman jurisprudence it had entirely disappeared. We should know almost nothing about it, if we had only the compilations of Justinian to consult; but the discovery of the manuscript of Gaius discloses it to us at a most interesting epoch, just when it had fallen into complete discredit and was verging on extinction. The great jurisconsult himself scouts the popular apology offered for it in the mental inferiority of the female sex, and a considerable part of his volume is taken up with descriptions of the numerous expedients, some of them displaying extraordinary ingenuity, which the Roman lawyers had devised for enabling Women to defeat the ancient rules. Led by their theory of Natural Law, the jurisconsults had evidently at this time assumed the equality of the sexes as a principle of their code of equity. The restrictions which they attacked were, it is to be observed, restrictions on the disposition of property, for which the assent of the woman's guardians was still formally required. Control of her person was apparently quite obsolete. Ancient Law subordinates the woman to her blood-relations, while a prime phenomenon of modern jurisprudence has been her subordination to her husband. The history of the change is remarkable. It begins far back in the annals of Rome. Anciently, there were three modes in which marriage might be contracted according to Roman usage, one involving a religious solemnity, the other two the observance of certain secular formalities. By the religious marriage or _Confarreation_; by the higher form of civil marriage, which was called _Coemption_; and by the lower form, which was termed _Usus_, the Husband acquired a number of rights over the person and property of his wife, which were on the whole in excess of such as are conferred on him in any system of modern jurisprudence. But in what capacity did he acquire them? Not as _Husband_, but as _Father_. By the Confarreation, Coemption, and Usus, the woman passed _in manum viri_, that is, in law she became the _Daughter_ of her husband. She was included in his Patria Potestas. She incurred all the liabilities springing out of it while it subsisted, and surviving it when it had expired. All her property became absolutely his, and she was retained in tutelage after his death to the guardian whom he had appointed by will. These three ancient forms of marriage fell, however, gradually into disuse, so that, at the most splendid period of Roman greatness, they had almost entirely given place to a fashion of wedlock--old apparently, but not hitherto considered reputable--which was founded on a modification of the lower form of civil marriage. Without explaining the technical mechanism of the institution now generally popular, I may describe it as amounting in law to little more than a temporary deposit of the woman by her family. The rights of the family remained unimpaired, and the lady continued in the tutelage of guardians whom her parents had appointed and whose privileges of control overrode, in many material respects, the inferior authority of her husband. The consequence was that the situation of the Roman female, whether married or unmarried, became one of great personal and proprietary independence, for the tendency of the later law, as I have already hinted, was to reduce the power of the guardian to a nullity, while the form of marriage in fashion conferred on the husband no compensating superiority. But Christianity tended somewhat from the very first to narrow this remarkable liberty. Led at first by justifiable disrelish for the loose practices of the decaying heathen world, but afterwards hurried on by a passion of asceticism, the professors of the new faith looked with disfavour on a marital tie which was in fact the laxest the Western world has seen. The latest Roman law, so far as it is touched by the constitutions of the Christian Emperors, bears some marks of a reaction against the liberal doctrines of the great Antonine jurisconsults. And the prevalent state of religious sentiment may explain why it is that modern jurisprudence, forged in the furnace of barbarian conquest, and formed by the fusion of Roman jurisprudence with patriarchal usage, has absorbed, among its rudiments, much more than usual of those rules concerning the position of women which belong peculiarly to an imperfect civilisation. During the troubled era which begins modern history, and while the laws of the Germanic and Sclavonic immigrants remained superposed like a separate layer above the Roman jurisprudence of their provincial subjects, the women of the dominant races are seen everywhere under various forms of archaic guardianship, and the husband who takes a wife from any family except his own pays a money-price to her relations for the tutelage which they surrender to him. When we move onwards, and the code of the middle ages has been formed by the amalgamation of the two systems, the law relating to women carries the stamp of its double origin. The principle of the Roman jurisprudence is so far triumphant that unmarried females are generally (though there are local exceptions to the rule) relieved from the bondage of the family; but the archaic principle of the barbarians has fixed the position of married women, and the husband has drawn to himself in his marital character the powers which had once belonged to his wife's male kindred, the only difference being that he no longer purchases his privileges. At this point therefore the modern law of Western and Southern Europe begins to be distinguished by one of its chief characteristics, the comparative freedom it allows to unmarried women and widows, the heavy disabilities it imposes on wives. It was very long before the subordination entailed on the other sex by marriage was sensibly diminished. The principal and most powerful solvent of the revived barbarism of Europe was always the codified jurisprudence of Justinian, wherever it was studied with that passionate enthusiasm which it seldom failed to awaken. It covertly but most efficaciously undermined the customs which it pretended merely to interpret. But the Chapter of law relating to married women was for the most part read by the light, not of Roman, but of Canon Law, which in no one particular departs so widely from the spirit of the secular jurisprudence as in the view it takes of the relations created by marriage. This was in part inevitable, since no society which preserves any tincture of Christian institution is likely to restore to married women the personal liberty conferred on them by the middle Roman law, but the proprietary disabilities of married females stand on quite a different basis from their personal incapacities, and it is by keeping alive and consolidating the former that the expositors of the Canon Law have deeply injured civilisation. There are many vestiges of a struggle between the secular and ecclesiastical principles, but the Canon Law nearly everywhere prevailed. In some of the French provinces married women, of a rank below nobility, obtained all the powers of dealing with property which Roman jurisprudence had allowed, and this local law has been largely followed by the Code Napoléon; but the state of the Scottish law shows that scrupulous deference to the doctrines of the Roman jurisconsults did not always extend to mitigating the disabilities of wives. The systems however which are least indulgent to married women are invariably those which have followed the Canon Law exclusively, or those which, from the lateness of their contact with European civilisation, have never had their archaisms weeded out. The Scandinavian laws, harsh till lately to all females, are still remarkable for their severity to wives. And scarcely less stringent in the proprietary incapacities it imposes is the English Common Law, which borrows far the greatest number of its fundamental principles from the jurisprudence of the Canonists. Indeed, the part of the Common Law which prescribes the legal situation of married women may serve to give an Englishman clear notions of the great institution which has been the principal subject of this chapter. I do not know how the operation and nature of the ancient Patria Potestas can be brought so vividly before the mind as by reflecting on the prerogatives attached to the husband by the pure English Common Law, and by recalling the rigorous consistency with which the view of a complete legal subjection on the part of the wife is carried by it, where it is untouched by equity or statutes, through every department of rights, duties, and remedies. The distance between the eldest and latest Roman law on the subject of Children under Power may be considered as equivalent to the difference between the Common Law and the jurisprudence of the Court of Chancery in the rules which they respectively apply to wives. If we were to lose sight of the true origin of Guardianship in both its forms and were to employ the common language on these topics, we should find ourselves remarking that, while the Tutelage of Women is an instance in which systems of archaic law push to an extravagant length the fiction of suspended rights, the rules which they lay down for the Guardianship of Male Orphans are an example of a fault in precisely the opposite direction. All such systems terminate the Tutelage of males at an extraordinary early period. Under the ancient Roman law, which may be taken as their type, the son who was delivered from Patria Potestas by the death of his Father or Grandfather remained under guardianship till an epoch which for general purposes may be described as arriving with his fifteenth year; but the arrival of that epoch placed him at once in the full enjoyment of personal and proprietary independence. The period of minority appears therefore to have been as unreasonably short as the duration of the disabilities of women was preposterously long. But, in point of fact, there was no element either of excess or of shortcoming in the circumstances which gave their original form to the two kinds of guardianship. Neither the one nor the other of them was based on the slightest consideration of public or private convenience. The guardianship of male orphans was no more designed originally to shield them till the arrival of years of discretion than the tutelage of women was intended to protect the other sex against its own feebleness. The reason why the death of the father delivered the son from the bondage of the family was the son's capacity for becoming himself the head of a new family and the founder of a new Patria Potestas; no such capacity was possessed by the woman and therefore she was _never_ enfranchised. Accordingly the Guardianship of Male Orphans was a contrivance for keeping alive the semblance of subordination to the family of the Parent, up to the time when the child was supposed capable of becoming a parent himself. It was a prolongation of the Patria Potestas up to the period of bare physical manhood. It ended with puberty, for the rigour of the theory demanded that it should do so. Inasmuch, however, as it did not profess to conduct the orphan ward to the age of intellectual maturity or fitness for affairs, it was quite unequal to the purposes of general convenience; and this the Romans seem to have discovered at a very early stage of their social progress. One of the very oldest monuments of Roman legislation is the _Lex Lætoria_ or _Plætoria_ which placed all free males who were of full years and rights under the temporary control of a new class of guardians, called _Curatores_, whose sanction was required to validate their acts or contracts. The twenty-sixth year of the young man's age was the limit of this statutory supervision; and it is exclusively with reference to the age of twenty-five that the terms "majority" and "minority" are employed in Roman law. _Pupilage_ or _wardship_ in modern jurisprudence had adjusted itself with tolerable regularity to the simple principle of protection to the immaturity of youth both bodily and mental. It has its natural termination with years of discretion. But for protection against physical weakness and for protection against intellectual incapacity, the Romans looked to two different institutions, distinct both in theory and design. The ideas attendant on both are combined in the modern idea of guardianship. The Law of Persons contains but one other chapter which can be usefully cited for our present purpose. The legal rules by which systems of nature jurisprudence regulate the connection of _Master and Slave_, present no very distinct traces of the original condition common to ancient societies. But there are reasons for this exception. There seems to be something in the institution of Slavery which has at all times either shocked or perplexed mankind, however little habituated to reflection, and however slightly advanced in the cultivation of its moral instincts. The compunction which ancient communities almost unconsciously experienced appears to have always resulted in the adoption of some imaginary principle upon which a defence, or at least a rationale, of slavery could be plausibly founded. Very early in their history the Greeks explained the institution as grounded on the intellectual inferiority of certain races and their consequent natural aptitude for the servile condition. The Romans, in a spirit equally characteristic, derived it from a supposed agreement between the victor and the vanquished in which the first stipulated for the perpetual services of his foe; and the other gained in consideration the life which he had legitimately forfeited. Such theories were not only unsound but plainly unequal to the case for which they affected to account. Still they exercised powerful influence in many ways. They satisfied the conscience of the Master. They perpetuated and probably increased the debasement of the Slave. And they naturally tended to put out of sight the relation in which servitude had originally stood to the rest of the domestic system. The relation, though not clearly exhibited, is casually indicated in many parts of primitive law, and more particularly in the typical system--that of ancient Rome. Much industry and some learning have been bestowed in the United States of America on the question whether the Slave was in the early stages of society a recognised member of the Family. There is a sense in which an affirmative answer must certainly be given. It is clear, from the testimony both of ancient law and of many primeval histories, that the Slave might under certain conditions be made the Heir, or Universal Successor, of the Master, and this significant faculty, as I shall explain in the Chapter on Succession, implies that the government and representation of the Family might, in a particular state of circumstances, devolve on the bondman. It seems, however, to be assumed in the American arguments on the subject that, if we allow Slavery to have been a primitive Family institution, the acknowledgment is pregnant with an admission of the moral defensibility of Negro-servitude at the present moment. What then is meant by saying that the Slave was originally included in the Family? Not that his situation may not have been the fruit of the coarsest motives which can actuate man. The simple wish to use the bodily powers of another person as a means of ministering to one's own ease or pleasure is doubtless the foundation of Slavery, and as old as human nature. When we speak of the Slave as anciently included in the Family, we intend to assert nothing as to the motives of those who brought him into it or kept him there; we merely imply that the tie which bound him to his master was regarded as one of the same general character with that which united every other member of the group to its chieftain. This consequence is, in fact, carried in the general assertion already made that the primitive ideas of mankind were unequal to comprehending any basis of the connection _inter se_ of individuals, apart from the relations of family. The Family consisted primarily of those who belonged to it by consanguinity and next of those who had been engrafted on it by adoption; but there was still a third class of persons who were only joined to it by common subjection to its head, and these were the Slaves. The born and the adopted subjects of the chief were raised above the Slave by the certainty that in the ordinary course of events they would be relieved from bondage and entitled to exercise powers of their own; but that the inferiority of the Slave was not such as to place him outside the pale of the Family, or such as to degrade him to the footing of inanimate property, is clearly proved, I think, by the many traces which remain of his ancient capacity for inheritance in the last resort. It would, of course, be unsafe in the highest degree to hazard conjectures how far the lot of the Slave was mitigated, in the beginnings of society, by having a definite place reserved to him in the empire of the Father. It is, perhaps, more probable that the son was practically assimilated to the Slave, than that the Slave shared any of the tenderness which in later times was shown to the son. But it may be asserted with some confidence of advanced and matured codes that, wherever servitude is sanctioned, the Slave has uniformly greater advantages under systems which preserve some memento of his earlier condition than under those which have adopted some other theory of his civil degradation. The point of view from which jurisprudence regards the Slave is always of great importance to him. The Roman law was arrested in its growing tendency to look upon him more and more as an article of property by the theory of the Law of Nature; and hence it is that, wherever servitude is sanctioned by institutions which have been deeply affected by Roman jurisprudence, the servile condition is never intolerably wretched. There is a great deal of evidence that in those American States which have taken the highly Romanised code of Louisiana as the basis of their jurisprudence, the lot and prospects of the negro-population are better in many material respects than under institutions founded on the English Common Law, which, as recently interpreted, has no true place for the Slave, and can only therefore regard him as a chattel. We have now examined all parts of the ancient Law of Persons which fall within the scope of this treatise, and the result of the inquiry is, I trust, to give additional definiteness and precision to our view of the infancy of jurisprudence. The Civil laws of States first make their appearance as the Themistes of a patriarchal sovereign, and we can now see that these Themistes are probably only a developed form of the irresponsible commands which, in a still earlier condition of the race, the head of each isolated household may have addressed to his wives, his children, and his slaves. But, even after the State has been organised, the laws have still an extremely limited application. Whether they retain their primitive character as Themistes, or whether they advance to the condition of Customs or Codified Texts, they are binding not on individuals, but on Families. Ancient jurisprudence, if a perhaps deceptive comparison may be employed, may be likened to International Law, filling nothing, as it were, excepting the interstices between the great groups which are the atoms of society. In a community so situated, the legislation of assemblies and the jurisdiction of Courts reaches only to the heads of families, and to every other individual the rule of conduct is the law of his home, of which his Parent is the legislator. But the sphere of civil law, small at first, tends steadily to enlarge itself. The agents of legal change, Fictions, Equity, and Legislation, are brought in turn to bear on the primeval institutions, and at every point of the progress, a greater number of personal rights and a larger amount of property are removed from the domestic forum to the cognisance of the public tribunals. The ordinances of the government obtain gradually the same efficacy in private concerns as in matters of state, and are no longer liable to be overridden by the behests of a despot enthroned by each hearthstone. We have in the annals of Roman law a nearly complete history of the crumbling away of an archaic system, and of the formation of new institutions from the recombined materials, institutions some of which descended unimpaired to the modern world, while others, destroyed or corrupted by contact with barbarism in the dark ages, had again to be recovered by mankind. When we leave this jurisprudence at the epoch of its final reconstruction by Justinian, few traces of archaism can be discovered in any part of it except in the single article of the extensive powers still reserved to the living Parent. Everywhere else principles of convenience, or of symmetry, or of simplification--new principles at any rate--have usurped the authority of the jejune considerations which satisfied the conscience of ancient times. Everywhere a new morality has displaced the canons of conduct and the reasons of acquiescence which were in unison with the ancient usages, because in fact they were born of them. The movement of the progressive societies has been uniform in one respect. Through all its course it has been distinguished by the gradual dissolution of family dependency and the growth of individual obligation in its place. The Individual is steadily substituted for the Family, as the unit of which civil laws take account. The advance has been accomplished at varying rates of celerity, and there are societies not absolutely stationary in which the collapse of the ancient organisation can only be perceived by careful study of the phenomena they present. But, whatever its pace, the change has not been subject to reaction or recoil, and apparent retardations will be found to have been occasioned through the absorption of archaic ideas and customs from some entirely foreign source. Nor is it difficult to see what is the tie between man and man which replaces by degrees those forms of reciprocity in rights and duties which have their origin in the Family. It is Contract. Starting, as from one terminus of history, from a condition of society in which all the relations of Persons are summed up in the relations of Family, we seem to have steadily moved towards a phase of social order in which all these relations arise from the free agreement of Individuals. In Western Europe the progress achieved in this direction has been considerable. Thus the status of the Slave has disappeared--it has been superseded by the contractual relation of the servant to his master. The status of the Female under Tutelage, if the tutelage be understood of persons other than her husband, has also ceased to exist; from her coming of age to her marriage all the relations she may form are relations of contract. So too the status of the Son under Power has no true place in law of modern European societies. If any civil obligation binds together the Parent and the child of full age, it is one to which only contract gives its legal validity. The apparent exceptions are exceptions of that stamp which illustrate the rule. The child before years of discretion, the orphan under guardianship, the adjudged lunatic, have all their capacities and incapacities regulated by the Law of Persons. But why? The reason is differently expressed in the conventional language of different systems, but in substance it is stated to the same effect by all. The great majority of Jurists are constant to the principle that the classes of persons just mentioned are subject to extrinsic control on the single ground that they do not possess the faculty of forming a judgment on their own interests; in other words, that they are wanting in the first essential of an engagement by Contract. The word Status may be usefully employed to construct a formula expressing the law of progress thus indicated, which, whatever be its value, seems to me to be sufficiently ascertained. All the forms of Status taken notice of in the Law of Persons were derived from, and to some extent are still coloured by, the powers and privileges anciently residing in the Family. If then we employ Status, agreeably with the usage of the best writers, to signify these personal conditions only, and avoid applying the term to such conditions as are the immediate or remote result of agreement, we may say that the movement of the progressive societies has hitherto been a movement _from Status to Contract_. CHAPTER VI THE EARLY HISTORY OF TESTAMENTARY SUCCESSION If an attempt were made to demonstrate in England the superiority of the historical method of investigation to the modes of inquiry concerning Jurisprudence which are in fashion among us, no department of Law would better serve as an example than Testaments or Wills. Its capabilities it owes to its great length and great continuity. At the beginning of its history we find ourselves in the very infancy of the social state, surrounded by conceptions which it requires some effort of mind to realise in their ancient form; while here, at the other extremity of its line of progress, we are in the midst of legal notions which are nothing more than those same conceptions disguised by the phraseology and by the habits of thought which belong to modern times, and exhibiting therefore a difficulty of another kind, the difficulty of believing that ideas which form part of our everyday mental stock can really stand in need of analysis and examination. The growth of the Law of Wills between these extreme points can be traced with remarkable distinctness. It was much less interrupted at the epoch of the birth of feudalism, than the history of most other branches of law. It is, indeed, true that, as regards all provinces of jurisprudence, the break caused by the division between ancient and modern history, or in other words by the dissolution of the Roman empire, has been very greatly exaggerated. Indolence has disinclined many writers to be at the pains of looking for threads of connection entangled and obscured by the confusions of six troubled centuries, while other inquirers, not naturally deficient in patience and industry, have been misled by idle pride in the legal system of their country, and by consequent unwillingness to confess its obligations to the jurisprudence of Rome. But these unfavourable influences have had comparatively little effect on the province of Testamentary Law. The barbarians were confessedly strangers to any such conception as that of a Will. The best authorities agree that there is no trace of it in those parts of their written codes which comprise the customs practised by them in their original seats, and in their subsequent settlements on the edge of the Roman empire. But soon after they became mixed with the population of the Roman provinces they appropriated from the Imperial jurisprudence the conception of a Will, at first in part, and afterwards in all its integrity. The influence of the Church had much to do with this rapid assimilation. The ecclesiastical power had very early succeeded to those privileges of custody and registration of Testaments which several of the heathen temples had enjoyed; and even thus early it was almost exclusively to private bequests that the religious foundations owed their temporal possessions. Hence it is that the decrees of the earliest Provincial Councils perpetually contain anathemas against those who deny the sanctity of Wills. Here, in England, Church influence was certainly chief among the causes which by universal acknowledgment have prevented that discontinuity in the history of Testamentary Law, which is sometimes believed to exist in the history of other provinces of Jurisprudence. The jurisdiction over one class of Wills was delegated to the Ecclesiastical Courts, which applied to them, though not always intelligently, the principles of Roman jurisprudence; and, though neither the courts of Common Law nor the Court of Chancery owned any positive obligation to follow the Ecclesiastical tribunals, they could not escape the potent influence of a system of settled rules in course of application by their side. The English law of testamentary succession to personalty has become a modified form of the dispensation under which the inheritances of Roman citizens were administered. It is not difficult to point out the extreme difference of the conclusions forced on us by the historical treatment of the subject from those to which we are conducted when, without the help of history, we merely strive to analyse our _primâ facie_ impressions. I suppose there is nobody who, starting from the popular or even the legal conception of a Will, would not imagine that certain qualities are necessarily attached to it. He would say, for example, that a Will necessarily takes effect _at death only_--that it is _secret_, not known as a matter of course to persons taking interests under its provisions--that it is _revocable_, _i.e._ always capable of being superseded by a new act of testation. Yet I shall be able to show that there was a time when none of these characteristics belonged to a Will. The Testaments from which our Wills are directly descended at first took effect immediately on their execution; they were not secret; they were not revocable. Few legal agencies are, in fact, the fruit of more complex historical agencies than that by which a man's written intentions control the posthumous disposition of his goods. Testaments very slowly and gradually gathered round them the qualities I have mentioned; and they did this from causes and under pressure of events which may be called casual, or which at any rate have no interest for us at present, except so far as they have affected the history of law. At a time when legal theories were more abundant than at present--theories which, it is true, were for the most part gratuitous and premature enough, but which nevertheless rescued jurisprudence from that worse and more ignoble condition, not unknown to ourselves, in which nothing like a generalisation is aspired to, and law is regarded as a mere empirical pursuit--it was the fashion to explain the ready and apparently intuitive perception which we have of certain qualities in a Will, by saying that they were natural to it, or, as the phrase would run in full, attached to it by the Law of Nature. Nobody, I imagine, would affect to maintain such a doctrine, when once it was ascertained that all these characteristics had their origin within historical memory; at the same time, vestiges of the theory of which the doctrine is an offshoot, linger in forms of expression which we all of us use and perhaps scarcely know how to dispense with. I may illustrate this by mentioning a position common in the legal literature of the seventeenth century. The jurists of that period very commonly assert that the power of Testation itself is of Natural Law, that it is a right conferred by the Law of Nature. Their teaching, though all persons may not at once see the connection, is in substance followed by those who affirm that the right of dictating or controlling the posthumous disposal of property is a necessary or natural consequence of the proprietary rights themselves. And every student of technical jurisprudence must have come across the same view, clothed in the language of a rather different school, which, in its rationale of this department of law, treats succession _ex testamento_ as the mode of devolution which the property of deceased persons ought primarily to follow, and then proceeds to account for succession _ab intestato_ as the incidental provision of the lawgiver for the discharge of a function which was only left unperformed through the neglect or misfortune of the deceased proprietor. These opinions are only expanded forms of the more compendious doctrine that Testamentary disposition is an institution of the Law of Nature. It is certainly never quite safe to pronounce dogmatically as to the range of association embraced by modern minds, when they reflect on Nature and her Law; but I believe that most persons, who affirm that the Testamentary Power is of Natural Law, may be taken to imply either that, as a matter of fact, it is universal, or that nations are prompted to sanction it by an original instinct and impulse. With respect to the first of these positions, I think that, when explicitly set forth, it can never be seriously contended for in an age which has seen the severe restraints imposed on the Testamentary Power by the _Code Napoléon_, and has witnessed the steady multiplication of systems for which the French codes have served as a model. To the second assertion we must object that it is contrary to the best-ascertained facts in the early history of law, and I venture to affirm generally that, in all indigenous societies, a condition of jurisprudence in which Testamentary privileges are _not_ allowed, or rather not contemplated, has preceded that later stage of legal development in which the mere will of the proprietor is permitted under more or less of restriction to override the claims of his kindred in blood. The conception of a Will or Testament cannot be considered by itself. It is a member, and not the first, of a series of conceptions. In itself a Will is simply the instrument by which the intention of the testator is declared. It must be clear, I think, that before such an instrument takes its turn for discussion, there are several preliminary points to be examined--as, for example, what is it, what sort of right or interest, which passes from a dead man on his decease? to whom and in what form does it pass? and how came it that the dead were allowed to control the posthumous disposition of their property? Thrown into technical language, the dependence of the various conceptions which contribute to the notion of a Will is thus expressed. A Will or Testament is an instrument by which the devolution of an inheritance is prescribed. Inheritance is a form of universal succession. A universal succession is a succession to a _universitas juris_, or university of rights and duties. Inverting this order we have therefore to inquire what is a _universitas juris_; what is a universal succession; what is the form of universal succession which is called an inheritance? And there are also two further questions, independent to some extent of the points I have mooted, but demanding solution before the subject of Wills can be exhausted. These are, how came an inheritance to be controlled in any case by the testator's volition, and what is the nature of the instrument by which it came to be controlled? The first question relates to the _universitas juris_; that is, a university (or bundle) of rights and duties. A _universitas juris_ is a collection of rights and duties united by the single circumstance of their having belonged at one time to some one person. It is, as it were, the legal clothing of some given individual. It is not formed by grouping together _any_ rights and _any_ duties. It can only be constituted by taking all the rights and all the duties of a particular person. The tie which so connects a number of rights of property, rights of way, rights to legacies, duties of specific performance, debts, obligations to compensate wrongs--which so connects all these legal privileges and duties together as to constitute them a _universitas juris_, is the _fact_ of their having attached to some individual capable of exercising them. Without this _fact_ there is no university of rights and duties. The expression _universitas juris_ is not classical, but for the notion jurisprudence is exclusively indebted to Roman law; nor is it at all difficult to seize. We must endeavour to collect under one conception the whole set of legal relations in which each one of us stands to the rest of the world. These, whatever be their character and composition, make up together a _universitas juris_; and there is but little danger of mistake in forming the notion, if we are only careful to remember that duties enter into it quite as much as rights. Our duties may overbalance our rights. A man may owe more than he is worth, and therefore if a money value is set on his collective legal relations he may be what is called insolvent. But for all that the entire group of rights and duties which centres in him is not the less a "juris universitas." We come next to a "universal succession." A universal succession is a succession to a _universitas juris_. It occurs when one man is invested with the legal clothing of another, becoming at the same moment subject to all his liabilities and entitled to all his rights. In order that the universal succession may be true and perfect, the devolution must take place _uno ictu_, as the jurists phrase it. It is of course possible to conceive one man acquiring the whole of the rights and duties of another at different periods, as for example by successive purchases; or he might acquire them in different capacities, part as heir, part as purchaser, part as legatee. But though the group of rights and duties thus made up should in fact amount to the whole legal personality of a particular individual, the acquisition would not be a universal succession. In order that there may be a true universal succession, the transmission must be such as to pass the whole aggregate of rights and duties at the _same_ moment and in virtue of the _same_ legal capacity in the recipient. The notion of a universal succession, like that of a juris universitas, is permanent in jurisprudence, though in the English legal system it is obscured by the great variety of capacities in which rights are acquired, and, above all, by the distinction between the two great provinces of English property, "realty" and "personalty." The succession of an assignee in bankruptcy to the entire property of the bankrupt is, however, a universal succession, though as the assignee only pays debts to the extent of the assets, this is only a modified form of the primary notion. Were it common among us for persons to take assignments of _all_ a man's property on condition of paying _all_ his debts, such transfers would exactly resemble the universal successions known to the oldest Roman Law. When a Roman citizen _adrogated_ a son, _i.e._ took a man, not already under Patria Potestas, as his adoptive child, he succeeded _universally_ to the adoptive child's estate, _i.e._ he took all the property and became liable for all the obligations. Several other forms of universal succession appear in the primitive Roman Law, but infinitely the most important and the most durable of all was that one with which we are more immediately concerned, Hæreditas or Inheritance. Inheritance was a universal succession occurring at a death. The universal successor was Hæres or Heir. He stepped at once into all the rights and all the duties of the dead man. He was instantly clothed with his entire legal person, and I need scarcely add that the special character of the Hæres remained the same, whether he was named by a Will or whether he took on an Intestacy. The term Hæres is no more emphatically used of the Intestate than of the Testamentary Heir, for the manner in which a man became Hæres had nothing to do with the legal character he sustained. The dead man's universal successor, however he became so, whether by Will or by Intestacy, was his Heir. But the Heir was not necessarily a single person. A group of persons considered in law as a single unit, might succeed as _co-heirs_ to the Inheritance. Let me now quote the usual Roman definition of an Inheritance. The reader will be in a position to appreciate the full force of the separate terms. _Hæreditas est successio in universum jus quod defunctus habuit_ ("an inheritance is a succession to the entire legal position of a deceased man"). The notion was that, though the physical person of the deceased had perished, his legal personality survived and descended unimpaired on his Heir or Co-heirs, in whom his identity (so far as the law was concerned) was continued. Our own law, in constituting the Executor or Administrator the representative of the deceased to the extent of his personal assets, may serve as an illustration of the theory from which it emanated, but, although it illustrates, it does not explain it. The view of even the later Roman Law required a closeness of correspondence between the position of the deceased and of his Heir which is no feature of an English representation; and in the primitive jurisprudence everything turned on the continuity of succession. Unless provision was made in the will for the instant devolution of the testator's rights and duties on the Heir or Co-heirs, the testament lost all its effect. In modern Testamentary jurisprudence, as in the later Roman law, the object of first importance is the execution of the testator's intentions. In the ancient law of Rome the subject of corresponding carefulness was the bestowal of the Universal Succession. One of these rules seems to our eyes a principle dictated by common sense, while the other looks very much like an idle crotchet. Yet that without the second of them the first would never have come into being is as certain as any proposition of the kind can be. In order to solve this apparent paradox, and to bring into greater clearness the train of ideas which I have been endeavouring to indicate, I must borrow the results of the inquiry which was attempted in the earlier portion of the preceding chapter. We saw one peculiarity invariably distinguishing the infancy of society. Men are regarded and treated, not as individuals, but always as members of a particular group. Everybody is first a citizen, and then, as a citizen, he is a member of his order--of an aristocracy or a democracy, of an order of patricians or plebeians; or, in those societies which an unhappy fate has afflicted with a special perversion in their course of development, of a caste. Next, he is a member of a gens, house, or clan; and lastly, he is a member of his _family_. This last was the narrowest and most personal relation in which he stood; nor, paradoxical as it may seem, was he ever regarded as _himself_, as a distinct individual. His individuality was swallowed up in his family. I repeat the definition of a primitive society given before. It has for its units, not individuals, but groups of men united by the reality or the fiction of blood-relationship. It is in the peculiarities of an undeveloped society that we seize the first trace of a universal succession. Contrasted with the organisation of a modern state, the commonwealths of primitive times may be fairly described as consisting of a number of little despotic governments, each perfectly distinct from the rest, each absolutely controlled by the prerogative of a single monarch. But though the Patriarch, for we must not yet call him the Pater-familias, had rights thus extensive, it is impossible to doubt that he lay under an equal amplitude of obligations. If he governed the family, it was for its behoof. If he was lord of its possessions, he held them as trustee for his children and kindred. He had no privilege or position distinct from that conferred on him by his relation to the petty commonwealth which he governed. The Family, in fact, was a Corporation; and he was its representative or, we might almost say, its Public officer. He enjoyed rights and stood under duties, but the rights and the duties were, in the contemplation of his fellow-citizens and in the eye of the law, quite as much those of the collective body as his own. Let us consider for a moment the effect which would be produced by the death of such a representative. In the eye of the law, in the view of the civil magistrate, the demise of the domestic authority would be a perfectly immaterial event. The person representing the collective body of the family and primarily responsible to municipal jurisdiction would bear a different name; and that would be all. The rights and obligations which attached to the deceased head of the house would attach, without breach of continuity, to his successor; for, in point of fact, they would be the rights and obligations of the family, and the family had the distinctive characteristic of a corporation--that it never died. Creditors would have the same remedies against the new chieftain as against the old, for the liability being that of the still existing family would be absolutely unchanged. All rights available to the family would be as available after the demise of the headship as before it--except that the Corporation would be obliged--if indeed language so precise and technical can be properly used of these early times--would be obliged to _sue_ under a slightly modified name. The history of jurisprudence must be followed in its whole course, if we are to understand how gradually and tardily society dissolved itself into the component atoms of which it is now constituted--by what insensible gradations the relation of man to man substituted itself for the relation of the individual to his family and of families to each other. The point now to be attended to is that even when the revolution had apparently quite accomplished itself, even when the magistrate had in great measure assumed the place of the Pater-familias, and the civil tribunal substituted itself for the domestic forum, nevertheless the whole scheme of rights and duties administered by the judicial authorities remained shaped by the influence of the obsolete privileges and coloured in every part by their reflection. There seems little question that the devolution of the Universitas Juris, so strenuously insisted upon by the Roman Law as the first condition of a testamentary or intestate succession, was a feature of the older form of society which men's minds had been unable to dissociate from the new, though with that newer phase it had no true or proper connection. It seems, in truth, that the prolongation of a man's legal existence in his heir, or in a group of co-heirs, is neither more nor less than a characteristic of _the family_ transferred by a fiction to _the individual_. Succession in corporations is necessarily universal, and the family was a corporation. Corporations never die. The decease of individual members makes no difference to the collective existence of the aggregate body, and does not in any way affect its legal incidents, its faculties or liabilities. Now in the idea of a Roman universal succession all these qualities of a corporation seem to have been transferred to the individual citizen. His physical death is allowed to exercise no effect on the legal position which he filled, apparently on the principle that that position is to be adjusted as closely as possible to the analogies of a family, which, in its corporate character, was not of course liable to physical extinction. I observe that not a few continental jurists have much difficulty in comprehending the nature of the connection between the conceptions blended in a universal succession, and there is perhaps no topic in the philosophy of jurisprudence on which their speculations, as a general rule, possess so little value. But the student of English law ought to be in no danger of stumbling at the analysis of the idea which we are examining. Much light is cast upon it by a fiction in our own system with which all lawyers are familiar. English lawyers classify corporations as Corporations aggregate and Corporations sole. A Corporation aggregate is a true Corporation, but a Corporation sole is an individual, being a member of a series of individuals, who is invested by a fiction with the qualities of a Corporation. I need hardly cite the King or the Parson of a Parish as instances of Corporations sole. The capacity or office is here considered apart from the particular person who from time to time may occupy it, and, this capacity being perpetual, the series of individuals who fill it are clothed with the leading attribute of Corporations--Perpetuity. Now in the older theory of Roman Law the individual bore to the family precisely the same relation which in the rationale of English jurisprudence a Corporation sole bears to a Corporation aggregate. The derivation and association of ideas are exactly the same. In fact, if we say to ourselves that for purposes of Roman Testamentary Jurisprudence each individual citizen was a Corporation sole, we shall not only realise the full conception of an inheritance, but have constantly at command the clue to the assumption in which it originated. It is an axiom with us that the King never dies, being a Corporation sole. His capacities are instantly filled by his successor, and the continuity of dominion is not deemed to have been interrupted. With the Romans it seemed an equally simple and natural process, to eliminate the fact of death from the devolution of rights and obligations. The testator lived on in his heir or in the group of his co-heirs. He was in law the same person with them, and if any one in his testamentary dispositions had even constructively violated the principle which united his actual and his posthumous existence, the law rejected the defective instrument, and gave the inheritance to the kindred in blood, whose capacity to fulfil the conditions of heirship was conferred on them by the law itself, and not by any document which by possibility might be erroneously framed. When a Roman citizen died intestate or leaving no valid Will, his descendants or kindred became his heirs according to a scale which will be presently described. The person or class of persons who succeeded did not simply _represent_ the deceased, but, in conformity with the theory just delineated, they _continued_ his civil life, his legal existence. The same results followed when the order of succession was determined by a Will, but the theory of the identity between the dead man and his heirs was certainly much older than any form of Testament or phase of Testamentary jurisprudence. This indeed is the proper moment for suggesting a doubt which will press on us with greater force the further we plumb the depths of this subject,--whether _wills_ would ever have come into being at all if it had not been for these remarkable ideas connected with universal succession. Testamentary law is the application of a principle which may be explained on a variety of philosophical hypotheses as plausible as they are gratuitous; it is interwoven with every part of modern society, and it is defensible on the broadest grounds of general expediency. But the warning can never be too often repeated, that the grand source of mistake in questions of jurisprudence is the impression that those reasons which actuate us at the present moment, in the maintenance of an existing institution, have necessarily anything in common with the sentiment in which the institution originated. It is certain that, in the old Roman Law of Inheritance, the notion of a will or testament is inextricably mixed up, I might almost say confounded, with the theory of a man's posthumous existence in the person of his heir. The conception of a universal succession, firmly as it has taken root in jurisprudence, has not occurred spontaneously to the framers of every body of laws. Wherever it is now found, it may be shown to have descended from Roman law; and with it have come down a host of legal rules on the subject of Testaments and Testamentary gifts, which modern practitioners apply without discerning their relation to the parent theory. But, in the pure Roman jurisprudence, the principle that a man lives on in his Heir--the elimination, if we may so speak, of the fact of death--is too obviously for mistake the centre round which the whole Law of Testamentary and Intestate succession is circling. The unflinching sternness of the Roman law in enforcing compliance with the governing theory would in itself suggest that the theory grew out of something in the primitive constitution of Roman society; but we may push the proof a good way beyond the presumption. It happens that several technical expressions, dating from the earliest institution of Wills at Rome, have been accidentally preserved to us. We have in Gaius the formula of investiture by which the universal successor was created. We have the ancient name by which the person afterwards called Heir was at first designated. We have further the text of the celebrated clause in the Twelve Tables by which the Testamentary power was expressly recognised, and the clauses regulating Intestate Succession have also been preserved. All these archaic phrases have one salient peculiarity. They indicate that what passed from the Testator to the Heir was the _Family_, that is, the aggregate of rights and duties contained in the Patria Potestas and growing out of it. The material property is in three instances not mentioned at all; in two others, it is visibly named as an adjunct or appendage of the Family. The original Will or Testament was therefore an instrument, or (for it was probably not at first in writing) a proceeding, by which the devolution of the _Family_ was regulated. It was a mode of declaring who was to have the chieftainship, in succession to the Testator. When Wills are understood to have this for their original object, we see at once how it is that they came to be connected with one of the most curious relics of ancient religion and law, the _sacra_, or Family Rites. These _sacra_ were the Roman form of an institution which shows itself wherever society has not wholly shaken itself free from its primitive clothing. They are the sacrifices and ceremonies by which the brotherhood of the family is commemorated, the pledge and the witness of its perpetuity. Whatever be their nature,--whether it be true or not that in all cases they are the worship of some mythical ancestor,--they are everywhere employed to attest the sacredness of the family-relation; and therefore they acquire prominent significance and importance, whenever the continuous existence of the Family is endangered by a change in the person of its chief. Accordingly we hear most about them in connection with demises of domestic sovereignty. Among the Hindoos, the right to inherit a dead man's property is exactly co-extensive with the duty of performing his obsequies. If the rites are not properly performed or not performed by the proper person, no relation is considered as established between the deceased and anybody surviving him; the Law of Succession does not apply, and nobody can inherit the property. Every great event in the life of a Hindoo seems to be regarded as leading up to and bearing upon those solemnities. If he marries, it is to have children who may celebrate them after his death; if he has no children, he lies under the strongest obligation to adopt them from another family, "with a view," writes the Hindoo doctor, "to the funeral cake, the water, and the solemn sacrifice." The sphere preserved to the Roman _sacra_ in the time of Cicero, was not less in extent. It embraced Inheritances and Adoptions. No Adoption was allowed to take place without due provision for the _sacra_ of the family from which the adoptive son was transferred, and no Testament was allowed to distribute an Inheritance without a strict apportionment of the expenses of these ceremonies among the different co-heirs. The differences between the Roman law at this epoch, when we obtain our last glimpse of the _sacra_, and the existing Hindoo system, are most instructive. Among the Hindoos, the religious element in law has acquired a complete predominance. Family sacrifices have become the keystone of all the Law of Persons and much of the Law of Things. They have even received a monstrous extension, for it is a plausible opinion that the self-immolation of the widow at her husband's funeral, a practice continued to historical times by the Hindoos, and commemorated in the traditions of several Indo-European races, was an addition grafted on the primitive _sacra_, under the influence of the impression, which always accompanies the idea of sacrifice, that human blood is the most precious of all oblations. With the Romans, on the contrary, the legal obligation and the religious duty have ceased to be blended. The necessity of solemnising the _sacra_ forms no part of the theory of civil law, but they are under the separate jurisdiction of the College of Pontiffs. The letters of Cicero to Atticus, which are full of allusions to them, leave no doubt that they constituted an intolerable burden on Inheritances; but the point of development at which law breaks away from religion has been passed, and we are prepared for their entire disappearance from the later jurisprudence. In Hindoo law there is no such thing as a true Will. The place filled by Wills is occupied by Adoptions. We can now see the relation of the Testamentary Power to the Faculty of Adoption, and the reason why the exercise of either of them could call up a peculiar solicitude for the performance of the _sacra_. Both a Will and an Adoption threaten a distortion of the ordinary course of Family descent, but they are obviously contrivances for preventing the descent being wholly interrupted, when there is no succession of kindred to carry it on. Of the two expedients Adoption, the factitious creation of blood-relationship, is the only one which has suggested itself to the greater part of archaic societies. The Hindoos have indeed advanced one point on what was doubtless the antique practice, by allowing the widow to adopt when the father has neglected to do so, and there are in the local customs of Bengal some faint traces of the Testamentary powers. But to the Romans belongs pre-eminently the credit of inventing the Will, the institution which, next to the Contract, has exercised the greatest influence in transforming human society. We must be careful not to attribute to it in its earliest shape the functions which have attended it in more recent times. It was at first, not a mode of distributing a dead man's goods, but one among several ways of transferring the representation of the household to a new chief. The goods descend no doubt to the Heir, but that is only because the government of the family carries with it in its devolution the power of disposing of the common stock. We are very far as yet from that stage in the history of Wills in which they become powerful instruments in modifying society through the stimulus they give to the circulation of property and the plasticity they produce in proprietary rights. No such consequences as these appear in fact to have been associated with the Testamentary power even by the latest Roman lawyers. It will be found that Wills were never looked upon in the Roman community as a contrivance for parting Property and the Family, or for creating a variety of miscellaneous interests, but rather as a means of making a better provision for the members of a household than could be secured through the rules of Intestate succession. We may suspect indeed that the associations of a Roman with the practice of will-making were extremely different from those familiar to us nowadays. The habit of regarding Adoption and Testation as modes of continuing the Family cannot but have had something to do with the singular laxity of Roman notions as to the inheritance of sovereignty. It is impossible not to see that the succession of the early Roman Emperors to each other was considered reasonably regular, and that, in spite of all that had occurred, no absurdity attached to the pretension of such Princes as Theodosius or Justinian to style themselves Cæsar and Augustus. When the phenomena of primitive societies emerge into light, it seems impossible to dispute a proposition which the jurists of the seventeenth century considered doubtful, that Intestate Inheritance is a more ancient institution than Testamentary Succession. As soon as this is settled, a question of much interest suggests itself, how and under what conditions were the directions of a will first allowed to regulate the devolution of authority over the household, and consequently the posthumous distribution of property. The difficulty of deciding the point arises from the rarity of Testamentary power in archaic communities. It is doubtful whether a true power of testation was known to any original society except the Roman. Rudimentary forms of it occur here and there, but most of them are not exempt from the suspicion of a Roman origin. The Athenian will was, no doubt, indigenous, but then, as will appear presently, it was only an inchoate Testament. As to the Wills which are sanctioned by the bodies of law which have descended to us as the codes of the barbarian conquerors of Imperial Rome, they are almost certainly Roman. The most penetrating German criticism has recently been directed to these _leges Barbarorum_, the great object of investigation being to detach those portions of each system which formed the customs of the tribe in its original home from the adventitious ingredients which were borrowed from the laws of the Romans. In the course of this process, one result has invariably disclosed itself, that the ancient nucleus of the code contains no trace of a Will. Whatever testamentary law exists, has been taken from Roman jurisprudence. Similarly, the rudimentary Testament which (as I am informed) the Rabbinical Jewish law provides for, has been attributed to contact with the Romans. The only form of testament, not belonging to a Roman or Hellenic society, which can reasonably be supposed indigenous, is that recognised by the usages of the province of Bengal; and the testament of Bengal is only a rudimentary Will. The evidence, however, such as it is, seems to point to the conclusion that Testaments are at first only allowed to take effect on failure of the persons entitled to have the inheritance by right of blood genuine or fictitious. Thus, when Athenian citizens were empowered for the first time by the Laws of Solon to execute Testaments, they were forbidden to disinherit their direct male descendants. So, too, the Will of Bengal is only permitted to govern the succession so far as it is consistent with certain overriding claims of the family. Again, the original institutions of the Jews having provided nowhere for the privileges of Testatorship, the later Rabbinical jurisprudence, which pretends to supply the _casus omissi_ of the Mosaic law, allows the Power of Testation to attach when all the kindred entitled under the Mosaic system to succeed have failed or are undiscoverable. The limitations by which the ancient German codes hedge in the testamentary jurisprudence which has been incorporated with them are also significant, and point in the same direction. It is the peculiarity of most of these German laws, in the only shape in which we know them, that, besides the _allod_ or domain of each household, they recognise several subordinate kinds or orders of property, each of which probably represents a separate transfusion of Roman principles into the primitive body of Teutonic usage. The primitive German or allodial property is strictly reserved to the kindred. Not only is it incapable of being disposed of by testament but it is scarcely capable of being alienated by conveyance _inter vivos_. The ancient German law, like the Hindoo jurisprudence, makes the male children co-proprietors with their father, and the endowment of the family cannot be parted with except by the consent of all its members. But the other sorts of property, of more modern origin and lower dignity than the allodial possessions, are much more easily alienated than they, and follow much more lenient rules of devolution. Women and the descendants of women succeed to them, obviously on the principle that they lie outside the sacred precinct of the Agnatic brotherhood. Now, it is on these last descriptions of property, and on these only, that the Testaments borrowed from Rome were at first allowed to operate. These few indications may serve to lend additional plausibility to that which in itself appears to be the most probable explanation of an ascertained fact in the early history of Roman Wills. We have it stated on abundant authority that Testaments, during the primitive period of the Roman State, were executed in the Comitia Calata, that is, in the Comitia Curiata, or Parliament of the Patrician Burghers of Rome, when assembled for Private Business. This mode of execution has been the source of the assertion, handed down by one generation of civilians to another, that every Will at one era of Roman history was a solemn legislative enactment. But there is no necessity whatever for resorting to an explanation which has the defect of attributing far too much precision to the proceedings of the ancient assembly. The proper key to the story concerning the execution of Wills in the Comitia Calata must no doubt be sought in the oldest Roman Law of _intestate_ succession. The canons of primitive Roman jurisprudence regulating the inheritance of relations from each other were, so long as they remained unmodified by the Edictal Law of the Prætor, to the following effect:--First, the _sui_ or direct descendants who had never been emancipated succeeded. On the failure of the _sui_, the Nearest Agnate came into their place, that is, the nearest person or class of the kindred who was or might have been under the same Patria Potestas with the deceased. The third and last degree came next, in which the inheritance devolved on the _gentiles_, that is on the collective members of the dead man's _gens_ or _House_. The House, I have explained already, was a fictitious extension of the family, consisting of all Roman Patrician citizens who bore the same name, and who, on the ground of bearing the same name, were supposed to be descended from a common ancestor. Now the Patrician Assembly called the Comitia Curiata was a Legislature in which Gentes or Houses were exclusively represented. It was a representative assembly of the Roman people, constituted on the assumption that the constituent unit of the state was the Gens. This being so, the inference seems inevitable, that the cognizance of Wills by the Comitia was connected with the rights of the Gentiles, and was intended to secure them in their privilege of ultimate inheritance. The whole apparent anomaly is removed, if we suppose that a Testament could only be made when the testator had no _gentiles_ discoverable, or when they waived their claims, and that every Testament was submitted to the General Assembly of the Roman Gentes, in order that those aggrieved by its dispositions might put their veto upon it if they pleased, or by allowing it to pass might be presumed to have renounced their reversion. It is possible that on the eve of the publication of the Twelve Tables this vetoing power may have been greatly curtailed or only occasionally and capriciously exercised. It is much easier, however, to indicate the meaning and origin of the jurisdiction confided to the Comitia Calata, than to trace its gradual development or progressive decay. The Testament to which the pedigree of all modern Wills may be traced is not, however, the Testament executed in the Calata Comitia, but another Testament designed to compete with it and destined to supersede it. The historical importance of this early Roman Will, and the light it casts on much of ancient thought, will excuse me for describing it at some length. When the Testamentary power first discloses itself to us in legal history, there are signs that, like almost all the great Roman institutions, it was the subject of contention between the Patricians and the Plebeians. The effect of the political maxim, _Plebs Gentem non habet_, "a Plebeian cannot be a member of a House," was entirely to exclude the Plebeians from the Comitia Curiata. Some critics have accordingly supposed that a Plebeian could not have his Will read or recited to the Patrician Assembly, and was thus deprived of Testamentary privileges altogether. Others have been satisfied to point out the hardships of having to submit a proposed Will to the unfriendly jurisdiction of an assembly in which the Testator was not represented. Whatever be the true view, a form of Testament came into use, which has all the characteristics of a contrivance intended to evade some distasteful obligation. The Will in question was a conveyance _inter vivos_, a complete and irrevocable alienation of the Testator's family and substance to the person whom he meant to be his heir. The strict rules of Roman law must always have permitted such an alienation, but, when the transaction was intended to have a posthumous effect, there may have been disputes whether it was valid for Testamentary purposes without the formal assent of the Patrician Parliament. If a difference of opinion existed on the point between the two classes of the Roman population, it was extinguished, with many other sources of heartburning, by the great Decemviral compromise. The text of the Twelve Tables is still extant which says, "_Pater familias uti de pecuniâ tutelâve rei suæ legâssit, ita jus esto_"--a law which can hardly have had any other object than the legalisation of the Plebeian Will. It is well known to scholars that, centuries after the Patrician Assembly had ceased to be the legislature of the Roman State, it still continued to hold formal sittings for the convenience of private business. Consequently, at a period long subsequent to the publication of the Decemviral Law, there is reason to believe that the Comitia Calata still assembled for the validation of Testaments. Its probable functions may be best indicated by saying that it was a Court of Registration, with the understanding however that the Wills exhibited were not _enrolled_, but simply recited to the members, who were supposed to take note of their tenor and to commit them to memory. It is very likely that this form of Testament was never reduced to writing at all, but at all events if the Will had been originally written, the office of the Comitia was certainly confined to hearing it read aloud, the document being retained afterwards in the custody of the Testator, or deposited under the safeguard of some religious corporation. This publicity may have been one of the incidents of the Testament executed in the Comitia Calata which brought it into popular disfavour. In the early years of the Empire the Comitia still held its meetings, but they seem to have lapsed into the merest form, and few Wills, or none, were probably presented at the periodical sitting. It is the ancient Plebeian Will--the alternative of the Testament just described--which in its remote effects has deeply modified the civilisation of the modern world. It acquired at Rome all the popularity which the Testament submitted to the Calata Comitia appears to have lost. The key to all its characteristics lies in its descent from the _mancipium_, or ancient Roman conveyance, a proceeding to which we may unhesitatingly assign the parentage of two great institutions without which modern society can scarcely be supposed capable of holding together, the Contract and the Will. The _mancipium_, or as the word would exhibit itself in later Latinity, the Mancipation, carries us back by its incidents to the infancy of civil society. As it sprang from times long anterior, if not to the invention, at all events to the popularisation, of the art of writing, gestures, symbolical acts, and solemn phrases take the place of documentary forms, and a lengthy and intricate ceremonial is intended to call the attention of the parties to the importance of the transaction, and to impress it on the memory of the witnesses. The imperfection too of oral, as compared with written, testimony necessitates the multiplication of the witnesses and assistants beyond what in later times would be reasonable or intelligible limits. The Roman Mancipation required the presence first of all of the parties, the vendor and vendee, or we should perhaps rather say, if we are to use modern legal language, the grantor and grantee. There were also no less than _five_ witnesses; and an anomalous personage, the Libripens, who brought with him a pair of scales to weigh the uncoined copper money of ancient Rome. The Testament we are considering--the Testament _per æs et libram_, "with the copper and the scales," as it long continued to be technically called--was an ordinary Mancipation with no change in the form and hardly any in words. The Testator was the grantor; the five witnesses and the libripens were present; and the place of grantee was taken by a person known technically as the _familiæ emptor_, the Purchaser of the Family. The ordinary ceremony of a Mancipation was then proceeded with. Certain formal gestures were made and sentences pronounced. The _Emptor familiæ_ simulated the payment of a price by striking the scales with a piece of money, and finally the Testator ratified what had been done in a set form of words called the "Nuncupatio" or publication of the transaction, a phrase which, I need scarcely remind the lawyer, has had a long history in Testamentary jurisprudence. It is necessary to attend particularly to the character of the person called _familiæ emptor_. There is no doubt that at first he was the Heir himself. The Testator conveyed to him outright his whole "familia," that is, all the rights he enjoyed over and through the family; his property, his slaves, and all his ancestral privileges, together, on the other hand, with all his duties and obligations. With these data before us, we are able to note several remarkable points in which the Mancipatory Testament, as it may be called, differed in its primitive form from a modern will. As it amounted to a conveyance _out-and-out_ of the Testator's estate, it was not _revocable_. There could be no new exercise of a power which had been exhausted. Again, it was not secret. The Familiæ Emptor, being himself the Heir, knew exactly what his rights were, and was aware that he was irreversibly entitled to the inheritance; a knowledge which the violences inseparable from the best-ordered ancient society rendered extremely dangerous. But perhaps the most surprising consequence of this relation of Testaments to Conveyances was the immediate vesting of the inheritance in the Heir. This has seemed so incredible to not a few civilians, that they have spoken of the Testator's estate as vesting conditionally on the Testator's death or as granted to him from a time uncertain, _i.e._ the death of the grantor. But down to the latest period of Roman jurisprudence there was a certain class of transactions which never admitted of being directly modified by a condition, or of being limited to or from a point of time. In technical language they did not admit _conditio_ or _dies_. Mancipation was one of them, and therefore, strange as it may seem, we are forced to conclude that the primitive Roman Will took effect at once, even though the Testator survived his act of Testation. It is indeed likely that Roman citizens originally made their Wills only in the article of death, and that a provision for the continuance of the Family effected by a man in the flower of life would take the form rather of an Adoption than of a Will. Still we must believe that, if the Testator did recover, he could only continue to govern his household by the sufferance of his Heir. Two or three remarks should be made before I explain how these inconveniences were remedied, and how Testaments came to be invested with the characteristics now universally associated with them. The Testament was not necessarily written: at first, it seems to have been invariably oral, and, even in later times, the instrument declaratory of the bequests was only incidentally connected with the Will and formed no essential part of it. It bore in fact exactly the same relation to the Testament, which the deed leading the uses bore to the Fines and Recoveries of old English law, or which the charter of feoffment bore to the feoffment itself. Previously, indeed, to the Twelve Tables, no writing would have been of the slightest use, for the Testator had no power of giving legacies, and the only persons who could be advantaged by a will were the Heir or Co-heirs. But the extreme generality of the clause in the Twelve Tables soon produced the doctrine that the Heir must take the inheritance burdened by any directions which the Testator might give him, or in other words, take it subject to legacies. Written testamentary instruments assumed thereupon a new value, as a security against the fraudulent refusal of the heir to satisfy the legatees; but to the last it was at the Testator's pleasure to rely exclusively on the testimony of the witnesses, and to declare by word of mouth the legacies which the _familiæ emptor_ was commissioned to pay. The terms of the expression _Emptor familiæ_ demand notice. "Emptor" indicates that the Will was literally a sale, and the word "familiæ," when compared with the phraseology in the Testamentary clause in the Twelve Tables, leads us to some instructive conclusions. "Familia," in classical Latinity, means always a man's slaves. Here, however, and generally in the language of ancient Roman law, it includes all persons under his Potestas, and the Testator's material property or substance is understood to pass as an adjunct or appendage of his household. Turning to the law of the Twelve Tables, it will be seen that it speaks of _tutela rei suæ_, "the guardianship of his substance," a form of expression which is the exact reverse of the phrase just examined. There does not therefore appear to be any mode of escaping from the conclusion, that, even at an era so comparatively recent as that of the Decemviral compromise, terms denoting "household" and "property" were blended in the current phraseology. If a man's household had been spoken of as his property we might have explained the expression as pointing to the extent of the Patria Potestas, but, as the interchange is reciprocal, we must allow that the form of speech carries us back to that primeval period in which property is owned by the family, and the family is governed by the citizen, so that the members of the community do not own their property _and_ their family, but rather own their property _through_ their family. At an epoch not easy to settle with precision, the Roman Prætors fell into the habit of acting upon Testaments solemnised in closer conformity with the spirit than the letter of the law. Casual dispensations became insensibly the established practice, till at length a wholly new form of Will was matured and regularly engrafted on the Edictal Jurisprudence. The new or _Prætorian_ Testament derived the whole of its impregnability from the _Jus Honorarium_ or Equity of Rome. The Prætor of some particular year must have inserted a clause in his inaugural Proclamation declaratory of his intention to sustain all Testaments which should have been executed with such and such solemnities; and, the reform having been found advantageous, the article relating to it must have been again introduced by the Prætor's successor, and repeated by the next in office, till at length it formed a recognised portion of that body of jurisprudence which from these successive incorporations was styled the Perpetual or Continuous Edict. On examining the conditions of a valid Prætorian Will they will be plainly seen to have been determined by the requirements of the Mancipatory Testament, the innovating Prætor having obviously prescribed to himself the retention of the old formalities just so far as they were warrants of genuineness or securities against fraud. At the execution of the Mancipatory Testament seven persons had been present besides the Testator. Seven witnesses were accordingly essential to the Prætorian Will: two of them corresponding to the _libripens_ and _familiæ emptor_, who were now stripped of their symbolical character, and were merely present for the purpose of supplying their testimony. No emblematic ceremony was gone through; the Will was merely recited; but then it is probable (though not absolutely certain) that a written instrument was necessary to perpetuate the evidence of the Testator's dispositions. At all events, whenever a writing was read or exhibited as a person's last Will, we know certainly that the Prætorian Court would not sustain it by special intervention, unless each of the seven witnesses had severally affixed his seal to the outside. This is the first appearance of _sealing_ in the history of jurisprudence, considered as a mode of authentication. It is to be observed that the seals of Roman Wills, and other documents of importance, did not simply serve as the index of the presence or assent of the signatory, but were literally fastenings which had to be broken before the writing could be inspected. The Edictal Law would therefore enforce the dispositions of a Testator, when, instead of being symbolised through the forms of mancipation, they were simply evidenced by the seals of seven witnesses. But it may be laid down as a general proposition, that the principal qualities of Roman property were incommunicable except through processes which were supposed to be coeval with the origin of the Civil Law. The Prætor therefore could not confer an _Inheritance_ on anybody. He could not place the Heir or Co-heirs in that very relation in which the Testator had himself stood to his own rights and obligations. All he could do was to confer on the person designated as Heir the practical enjoyment of the property bequeathed, and to give the force of legal acquittances to his payments of the Testator's debts. When he exerted his powers to these ends, the Prætor was technically said to communicate the _Bonorum Possessio_. The Heir specially inducted under these circumstances, or _Bonorum Possessor_, had every proprietary privilege of the Heir by the Civil Law. He took the profits and he could alienate, but then, for all his remedies for redress against wrong, he must go, as we should phrase it, not to the Common Law, but to the Equity side of the Prætorian Court. No great chance of error would be incurred by describing him as having an _equitable_ estate in the inheritance; but then, to secure ourselves against being deluded by the analogy, we must always recollect that in one year the _Bonorum Possessio_ was operated upon a principle of Roman Law known as Usucapion, and the Possessor became Quiritarian owner of all the property comprised in the inheritance. We know too little of the older law of Civil Process to be able to strike the balance of advantage and disadvantage between the different classes of remedies supplied by the Prætorian Tribunal. It is certain, however, that, in spite of its many defects, the Mancipatory Testament by which the _universitas juris_ devolved at once and unimpaired was never entirely superseded by the new Will; and at a period less bigoted to antiquarian forms, and perhaps not quite alive to their significance, all the ingenuity of the Jurisconsults seems to have been expended on the improvement of the more venerable instrument. At the era of Gaius, which is that of the Antonine Cæsars, the great blemishes of the Mancipatory Will had been removed. Originally, as we have seen, the essential character of the formalities had required that the Heir himself should be the Purchaser of the Family, and the consequence was that he not only instantly acquired a vested interest in the Testator's Property, but was formally made aware of his rights. But the age of Gaius permitted some unconcerned person to officiate as Purchaser of the Family. The heir, therefore, was not necessarily informed of the succession to which he was destined; and Wills thenceforward acquired the property of _secrecy_. The substitution of a stranger for the actual Heir in the functions of "Familiæ Emptor" had other ulterior consequences. As soon as it was legalised, a Roman Testament came to consist of two parts or stages--a conveyance, which was a pure form, and a Nuncupatio, or Publication. In this latter passage of the proceeding, the Testator either orally declared to the assistants the wishes which were to be executed after his death, or produced a written document in which his wishes were embodied. It was not probably till attention had been quite drawn off from the imaginary Conveyance, and concentrated on the Nuncupation as the essential part of the transaction, that Wills were allowed to become _revocable_. I have thus carried the pedigree of Wills some way down in legal history. The root of it is the old Testament "with the copper and the scales," founded on a Mancipation or Conveyance. This ancient Will has, however, manifold defects, which are remedied, though only indirectly, by the Prætorian law. Meantime the ingenuity of the Jurisconsults effects, in the Common-Law Will or Mancipatory Testament, the very improvements which the Prætor may have concurrently carried out in Equity. These last ameliorations depend, however, on mere legal dexterity, and we see accordingly that the Testamentary Law of the day of Gaius or Ulpian is only transitional. What changes next ensued we know not; but at length, just before the reconstruction of the jurisprudence by Justinian, we find the subjects of the Eastern Roman Empire employing a form of Will of which the pedigree is traceable to the Prætorian Testament on one side, and to the Testament "with the copper and the scales" on the other. Like the Testament of the Prætor, it required no Mancipation, and was invalid unless sealed by seven witnesses. Like the Mancipatory Will, it passed the Inheritance and not merely a _Bonorum Possessio_. Several, however, of its most important features were annexed by positive enactments, and it is out of regard to this threefold derivation from the Prætorian Edict, from the Civil Law, and from the Imperial Constitutions, that Justinian speaks of the Law of Wills in his own day as _Jus Tripertitum_. The new Testament thus described is the one generally known as the Roman Will. But it was the Will of the Eastern Empire only; and the researches of Savigny have shown that in Western Europe the old Mancipatory Testament, with all its apparatus of conveyance, copper, and scales, continued to be the form in use far down in the Middle Ages. CHAPTER VII ANCIENT AND MODERN IDEAS RESPECTING WILLS AND SUCCESSIONS Although there is much in the modern European Law of Wills which is intimately connected with the oldest rules of Testamentary disposition practised among men, there are nevertheless some important differences between ancient and modern ideas on the subject of Wills and Successions. Some of the points of difference I shall endeavour to illustrate in this chapter. At a period, removed several centuries from the era of the Twelve Tables, we find a variety of rules engrafted on the Roman Civil Law with the view of limiting the disinherison of children; we have the jurisdiction of the Prætor very actively exerted in the same interest; and we are also presented with a new remedy, very anomalous in character and of uncertain origin, called the Querela Inofficiosi Testamenti, "the Plaint of an Unduteous Will," directed to the reinstatement of the issue in inheritances from which they had been unjustifiably excluded by a father's Testament. Comparing this condition of the law with the text of the Twelve Tables which concedes in terms the utmost liberty of Testation, several writers have been tempted to interweave a good deal of dramatic incident into their history of the Law Testamentary. They tell us of the boundless license of disinherison in which the heads of families instantly began to indulge, of the scandal and injury to public morals which the new practices engendered, and of the applause of all good men which hailed the courage of the Prætor in arresting the progress of paternal depravity. This story, which is not without some foundation for the principal fact it relates, is often so told as to disclose very serious misconceptions of the principles of legal history. The Law of the Twelve Tables is to be explained by the character of the age in which it was enacted. It does not license a tendency which a later era thought itself bound to counteract, but it proceeds on the assumption that no such tendency exists, or, perhaps we should say, in ignorance of the possibility of its existence. There is no likelihood that Roman citizens began immediately to avail themselves freely of the power to disinherit. It is against all reason and sound appreciation of history to suppose that the yoke of family bondage, still patiently submitted to, as we know, where its pressure galled most cruelly, would be cast off in the very particular in which its incidence in our own day is not otherwise than welcome. The Law of the Twelve Tables permitted the execution of Testaments in the only case in which it was thought possible that they could be executed, viz. on failure of children and proximate kindred. It did not forbid the disinherison of direct descendants, inasmuch as it did not legislate against a contingency which no Roman lawgiver of that era could have contemplated. No doubt, as the offices of family affection progressively lost the aspect of primary personal duties, the disinherison of children was occasionally attempted. But the interference of the Prætor, so far from being called for by the universality of the abuse, was doubtless first prompted by the fact that such instances of unnatural caprice were few and exceptional, and at conflict with the current morality. The indications furnished by this part of Roman Testamentary Law are of a very different kind. It is remarkable that a Will never seems to have been regarded by the Romans as a means of _disinheriting_ a Family, or of effecting the unequal distribution of a patrimony. The rules of law preventing its being turned to such a purpose, increase in number and stringency as the jurisprudence unfolds itself; and these rules correspond doubtless with the abiding sentiment of Roman society, as distinguished from occasional variations of feeling in individuals. It would rather seem as if the Testamentary Power were chiefly valued for the assistance it gave in _making provision_ for a Family, and in dividing the inheritance more evenly and fairly than the Law of Intestate Succession would have divided it. If this be the true reading of the general sentiment on the point, it explains to some extent the singular horror of Intestacy which always characterised the Roman. No evil seems to have been considered a heavier visitation than the forfeiture of Testamentary privileges; no curse appears to have been bitterer than that which imprecated on an enemy that he might die without a Will. The feeling has no counterpart, or none that is easily recognisable, in the forms of opinion which exist at the present day. All men at all times will doubtless prefer chalking out the destination of their substance to having that office performed for them by the law; but the Roman passion for Testacy is distinguished from the mere desire to indulge caprice by its intensity; and it has of course nothing whatever in common with that pride of family, exclusively the creation of feudalism, which accumulates one description of property in the hands of a single representative. It is probable, _à priori_, that it was something in the rules of Intestate Succession which caused this vehement preference for the distribution of property under a Testament over its distribution by law. The difficulty, however, is, that on glancing at the Roman Law of Intestate Succession, in the form which it wore for many centuries before Justinian shaped it into that scheme of inheritance which has been almost universally adopted by modern lawgivers, it by no means strikes one as remarkably unreasonable or inequitable. On the contrary, the distribution it prescribes is so fair and rational, and differs so little from that with which modern society has been generally contented, that no reason suggests itself why it should have been regarded with extraordinary distaste, especially under a jurisprudence which pared down to a narrow compass the testamentary privileges of persons who had children to provide for. We should rather have expected that, as in France at this moment, the heads of families would generally save themselves the trouble of executing a Will, and allow the Law to do as it pleased with their assets. I think, however, if we look a little closely at the pre-Justinianean scale of Intestate Succession, we shall discover the key to the mystery. The texture of the law consists of two distinct parts. One department of rules comes from the Jus Civile, the Common-Law of Rome; the other from the Edict of the Prætor. The Civil Law, as I have already stated for another purpose, calls to the inheritance only three orders of successors in their turn; the Unemancipated children, the nearest class of Agnatic kindred, and the Gentiles. Between these three orders, the Prætor interpolates various classes of relatives, of whom the Civil Law took no notice whatever. Ultimately, the combination of the Edict and of the Civil Law forms a table of succession not materially different from that which has descended to the generality of modern codes. The point for recollection is that there must anciently have been a time at which the rules of the Civil Law determined the scheme of Intestate Succession exclusively, and at which the arrangements of the Edict were non-existent, or not consistently carried out. We cannot doubt that, in its infancy, the Prætorian jurisprudence had to contend with formidable obstructions, and it is more than probable that, long after popular sentiment and legal opinion had acquiesced in it, the modifications which it periodically introduced were governed by no certain principles, and fluctuated with the varying bias of successive magistrates. The rules of Intestate Succession, which the Romans must at this period have practised, account, I think--and more than account--for that vehement distaste for an Intestacy to which Roman society during so many ages remained constant. The order of succession was this: on the death of a citizen, having no will or no valid will, his Unemancipated children became his Heirs. His _emancipated_ sons had no share in the inheritance. If he left no direct descendants living at his death, the nearest grade of the Agnatic kindred succeeded, but no part of the inheritance was given to any relative united (however closely) with the dead man through female descents. All the other branches of the family were excluded, and the inheritance escheated to the _Gentiles_, or entire body of Roman citizens bearing the same name with the deceased. So that on failing to execute an operative Testament, a Roman of the era under examination left his emancipated children absolutely without provision, while, on the assumption that he died childless, there was imminent risk that his possessions would escape from the family altogether, and devolve on a number of persons with whom he was merely connected by the sacerdotal fiction that assumed all members of the same _gens_ to be descended from a common ancestor. The prospect of such an issue is in itself a nearly sufficient explanation of the popular sentiment; but, in point of fact, we shall only half understand it, if we forget that the state of things I have been describing is likely to have existed at the very moment when Roman society was in the first stage of its transition from its primitive organisation in detached families. The empire of the father had indeed received one of the earliest blows directed at it through the recognition of Emancipation as a legitimate usage, but the law, still considering the Patria Potestas to be the root of family connection, persevered in looking on the emancipated children as strangers to the rights of Kinship and aliens from the blood. We cannot, however, for a moment suppose that the limitations of the family imposed by legal pedantry had their counterpart in the natural affection of parents. Family attachments must still have retained that nearly inconceivable sanctity and intensity which belonged to them under the Patriarchal system; and, so little are they likely to have been extinguished by the act of emancipation, that the probabilities are altogether the other way. It may be unhesitatingly taken for granted that enfranchisement from the father's power was a demonstration, rather than a severance, of affection--a mark of grace and favour accorded to the best-beloved and most esteemed of the children. If sons thus honoured above the rest were absolutely deprived of their heritage by an Intestacy, the reluctance to incur it requires no farther explanation. We might have assumed _à priori_ that the passion for Testacy was generated by some moral injustice entailed by the rules of Intestate succession; and here we find them at variance with the very instinct by which early society was cemented together. It is possible to put all that has been urged in a very succinct form. Every dominant sentiment of the primitive Romans was entwined with the relations of the family. But what was the Family? The Law defined it one way--natural affection another. In the conflict between the two, the feeling we would analyse grew up, taking the form of an enthusiasm for the institution by which the dictates of affection were permitted to determine the fortunes of its objects. I regard, therefore, the Roman horror of Intestacy as a monument of a very early conflict between ancient law and slowly changing ancient sentiment on the subject of the Family. Some passages in the Roman Statute-Law, and one statute in particular which limited the capacity for inheritance possessed by women, must have contributed to keep alive the feeling; and it is the general belief that the system of creating Fidei-Commissa, or bequests in trust, was devised to evade the disabilities imposed by those statutes. But the feeling itself, in its remarkable intensity, seems to point back to some deeper antagonism between law and opinion; nor is it at all wonderful that the improvements of jurisprudence by the Prætor should not have extinguished it. Everybody conversant with the philosophy of opinion is aware that a sentiment by no means dies out, of necessity, with the passing away of the circumstances which produced it. It may long survive them; nay, it may afterwards attain to a pitch and climax of intensity which it never attained during their actual continuance. The view of a Will which regards it as conferring the power of diverting property from the Family, or of distributing it in such uneven proportions as the fancy or good sense of the Testator may dictate, is not older than that later portion of the Middle Ages in which Feudalism had completely consolidated itself. When modern jurisprudence first shows itself in the rough, Wills are rarely allowed to dispose with absolute freedom of a dead man's assets. Wherever at this period the descent of property was regulated by Will--and over the greater part of Europe moveable or personal property was the subject of Testamentary disposition--the exercise of the Testamentary power was seldom allowed to interfere with the right of the widow to a definite share, and of the children to certain fixed proportions, of the devolving inheritance. The shares of the children, as their amount shows, were determined by the authority of Roman law. The provision for the widow was attributable to the exertions of the Church, which never relaxed its solicitude for the interest of wives surviving their husbands--winning, perhaps, one of the most arduous of its triumphs when, after exacting for two or three centuries an express promise from the husband at marriage to endow his wife, it at length succeeded in engrafting the principle of Dower on the Customary Law of all Western Europe. Curiously enough, the dower of lands proved a more stable institution than the analogous and more ancient reservation of certain shares of the personal property to the widow and children. A few local customs in France maintained the right down to the Revolution, and there are traces of similar usages in England; but on the whole the doctrine prevailed that moveables might be freely disposed of by Will, and, even when the claims of the widow continued to be respected, the privileges of the children were obliterated from jurisprudence. We need not hesitate to attribute the change to the influence of Primogeniture. As the Feudal law of land practically disinherited all the children in favour of one, the equal distribution even of those sorts of property which might have been equally divided ceased to be viewed as a duty. Testaments were the principal instruments employed in producing inequality, and in this condition of things originated the shade of difference which shows itself between the ancient and the modern conception of a Will. But, though the liberty of bequest, enjoyed through Testaments, was thus an accidental fruit of Feudalism, there is no broader distinction than that which exists between a system of free Testamentary disposition and a system, like that of the Feudal land-law, under which property descends compulsorily in prescribed lines of devolution. This truth appears to have been lost sight of by the authors of the French Codes. In the social fabric which they determined to destroy, they saw Primogeniture resting chiefly on Family settlements, but they also perceived that Testaments were frequently employed to give the eldest son precisely the same preference which was reserved to him under the strictest of entails. In order, therefore, to make sure of their work, they not only rendered it impossible to prefer the eldest son to the rest in marriage-arrangements, but they almost expelled Testamentary succession from the law, lest it should be used to defeat their fundamental principle of an equal distribution of property among children at the parent's death. The result is that they have established a system of small perpetual entails, which is infinitely nearer akin to the system of feudal Europe than would be a perfect liberty of bequest. The land-law of England, "the Herculaneum of Feudalism," is certainly much more closely allied to the land-law of the Middle Ages than that of any Continental country, and Wills with us are frequently used to aid or imitate that preference of the eldest son and his line which is a nearly universal feature in marriage settlements of real property. But nevertheless feeling and opinion in this country have been profoundly affected by the practice of free Testamentary disposition; and it appears to me that the state of sentiment in a great part of French society, on the subject of the conservation of property in families, is much liker that which prevailed through Europe two or three centuries ago than are the current opinions of Englishmen. The mention of Primogeniture introduces one of the most difficult problems of historical jurisprudence. Though I have not paused to explain my expressions, it may have been noticed that I have frequently spoken of a number of "co-heirs" as placed by the Roman Law of Succession on the same footing with a single Heir. In point of fact, we know of no period of Roman jurisprudence at which the place of the Heir, or Universal Successor, might not have been taken by a group of co-heirs. This group succeeded as a single unit, and the assets were afterwards divided among them in a separate legal proceeding. When the Succession was _ab intestato_, and the group consisted of the children of the deceased, they each took an equal share of the property; nor, though males had at one time some advantages over females, is there the faintest trace of Primogeniture. The mode of distribution is the same throughout archaic jurisprudence. It certainly seems that, when civil society begins and families cease to hold together through a series of generations, the idea which spontaneously suggests itself is to divide the domain equally among the members of each successive generation, and to reserve no privilege to the eldest son or stock. Some peculiarly significant hints as to the close relation of this phenomenon to primitive thought are furnished by systems yet more archaic than the Roman. Among the Hindoos, the instant a son is born, he acquires a vested right in his father's property, which cannot be sold without recognition of his joint ownership. On the son's attaining full age, he can sometimes compel a partition of the estate even against the consent of the parent; and, should the parent acquiesce, one son can always have a partition even against the will of the others. On such partition taking place, the father has no advantage over his children, except that he has two of the shares instead of one. The ancient law of the German tribes was exceedingly similar. The _allod_ or domain of the family was the joint-property of the father and his sons. It does not, however, appear to have been habitually divided even at the death of the parent, and in the same way the possessions of a Hindoo, however divisible theoretically, are so rarely distributed in fact, that many generations constantly succeed each other without a partition taking place, and thus the Family in India has a perpetual tendency to expand into the Village Community, under conditions which I shall hereafter attempt to elucidate. All this points very clearly to the absolutely equal division of assets among the male children at death as the practice most usual with society at the period when family-dependency is in the first stages of disintegration. Here then emerges the historical difficulty of Primogeniture. The more clearly we perceive that, when the Feudal institutions were in process of formation, there was no source in the world whence they could derive their elements but the Roman law of the provincials on the one hand and the archaic customs of the barbarians on the other, the more are we perplexed at first sight by our knowledge that neither Roman nor barbarian was accustomed to give any preference to the eldest son or his line in the succession to property. Primogeniture did not belong to the Customs which the barbarians practised on their first establishment within the Roman Empire. It is known to have had its origin in the _benefices_ or beneficiary gifts of the invading chieftains. These benefices, which were occasionally conferred by the earlier immigrant kings, but were distributed on a great scale by Charlemagne, were grants of Roman provincial land to be holden by the beneficiary on condition of military service. The _allodial_ proprietors do not seem to have followed their sovereign on distant or difficult enterprises, and all the grander expeditions of the Frankish chiefs and of Charlemagne were accomplished with forces composed of soldiers either personally dependent on the royal house or compelled to serve it by the tenure of their land. The benefices, however, were not at first in any sense hereditary. They were held at the pleasure of the grantor, or at most for the life of the grantee; but still, from the very outset, no effort seems to have been spared by the beneficiaries to enlarge the tenure, and to continue their lands in their family after death. Through the feebleness of Charlemagne's successors these attempts were universally successful, and the Benefice gradually transformed itself into the hereditary Fief. But, though the fiefs were hereditary, they did not necessarily descend to the eldest son. The rules of succession which they followed were entirely determined by the terms agreed upon between the grantor and the beneficiary, or imposed by one of them on the weakness of the other. The original tenures were therefore extremely various; not indeed so capriciously various as is sometimes asserted, for all which have hitherto been described present some combination of the modes of succession familiar to Romans and to barbarians, but still exceedingly miscellaneous. In some of them, the eldest son and his stock undoubtedly succeeded to the fief before the others, but such successions, so far from being universal, do not even appear to have been general. Precisely the same phenomena recur during that more recent transmutation of European society which entirely substituted the feudal form of property for the domainial (or Roman) and the allodial (or German). The allods were wholly absorbed by the fiefs. The greater allodial proprietors transformed themselves into feudal lords by conditional alienations of portions of their land to dependants; the smaller sought an escape from the oppressions of that terrible time by surrendering their property to some powerful chieftain, and receiving it back at his hands on condition of service in his wars. Meantime, that vast mass of the population of Western Europe whose condition was servile or semi-servile--the Roman and German personal slaves, the Roman _coloni_ and the German _lidi_--were concurrently absorbed by the feudal organisation, a few of them assuming a menial relation to the lords, but the greater part receiving land on terms which in those centuries were considered degrading. The tenures created during this era of universal infeudation were as various as the conditions which the tenants made with their new chiefs or were forced to accept from them. As in the case of the benefices, the succession to some, but by no means to all, of the estates followed the rule of Primogeniture. No sooner, however, has the feudal system prevailed throughout the West, than it becomes evident that Primogeniture has some great advantage over every other mode of succession. It spread over Europe with remarkable rapidity, the principal instrument of diffusion being Family Settlements, the Pactes de Famille of France and Haus-Gesetze of Germany, which universally stipulated that lands held by knightly service should descend to the eldest son. Ultimately the law resigned itself to follow inveterate practice, and we find that in all the bodies of Customary Law, which were gradually built up, the eldest son and stock are preferred in the succession to estates of which the tenure is free and military. As to lands held by servile tenures (and originally all tenures were servile which bound the tenant to pay money or bestow manual labour), the system of succession prescribed by custom differed greatly in different countries and different provinces. The more general rule was that such lands were divided equally at death among all the children, but still in some instances the eldest son was preferred, in some the youngest. But Primogeniture usually governed the inheritance of that class of estates, in some respects the most important of all, which were held by tenures that, like the English Socage, were of later origin than the rest, and were neither altogether free nor altogether servile. The diffusion of Primogeniture is usually accounted for by assigning what are called Feudal reasons for it. It is asserted that the feudal superior had a better security for the military service he required when the fief descended to a single person, instead of being distributed among a number on the decease of the last holder. Without denying that this consideration may partially explain the favour gradually acquired by Primogeniture, I must point out that Primogeniture became a custom of Europe much more through its popularity with the tenants than through any advantage it conferred on the lords. For its origin, moreover, the reason given does not account at all. Nothing in law springs entirely from a sense of convenience. There are always certain ideas existing antecedently on which the sense of convenience works, and of which it can do no more than form some new combination; and to find these ideas in the present case is exactly the problem. A valuable hint is furnished to us from a quarter fruitful of such indications. Although in India the possessions of a parent are divisible at his death, and may be divisible during his life, among all his male children in equal shares, and though this principle of the equal distribution of _property_ extends to every part of the Hindoo institutions, yet wherever _public office_ or _political power_ devolves at the decease of the last Incumbent, the succession is nearly universally according to the rules of Primogeniture. Sovereignties descend therefore to the eldest son, and where the affairs of the Village Community, the corporate unit of Hindoo society, are confided to a single manager, it is generally the eldest son who takes up the administration at his parent's death. All offices, indeed, in India, tend to become hereditary, and, when their nature permits it, to vest in the eldest member of the oldest stock. Comparing these Indian successions with some of the ruder social organisations which have survived in Europe almost to our own day, the conclusion suggests itself that, when Patriarchal power is not only _domestic_ but _political_, it is not distributed among all the issue at the parent's death, but is the birthright of the eldest son. The chieftainship of a Highland clan, for example, followed the order of Primogeniture. There seems, in truth, to be a form of family-dependency still more archaic than any of those which we know from the primitive records of organised civil societies. The Agnatic Union of the kindred in ancient Roman law, and a multitude of similar indications, point to a period at which all the ramifying branches of the family tree held together in one organic whole; and it is no presumptuous conjecture, that, when the corporation thus formed by the kindred was in itself an independent society, it was governed by the eldest male of the oldest line. It is true that we have no actual knowledge of any such society. Even in the most elementary communities, family-organisations, as we know them, are at most _imperia in imperio_. But the position of some of them, of the Celtic clans in particular, was sufficiently near independence within historical times to force on us the conviction that they were once separate _imperia_, and that Primogeniture regulated the succession to the chieftainship. It is, however, necessary to be on our guard against modern associations with the term of law. We are speaking of a family-connection still closer and more stringent than any with which we are made acquainted by Hindoo society or ancient Roman law. If the Roman Paterfamilias was visibly steward of the family possessions, if the Hindoo father is only joint-sharer with his sons, still more emphatically must the true patriarchal chieftain be merely the administrator of a common fund. The examples of succession by Primogeniture which were found among the Benefices may, therefore, have been imitated from a system of family-government known to the invading races, though not in general use. Some ruder tribes may have still practised it, or, what is still more probable, society may have been so slightly removed from its more archaic condition that the minds of some men spontaneously recurred to it, when they were called upon to settle the rules of inheritance for a new form of property. But there is still the question, Why did Primogeniture gradually supersede every other principle of succession? The answer, I think, is, that European society decidedly retrograded during the dissolution of the Carlovingian empire. It sank a point or two back even from the miserably low degree which it had marked during the early barbarian monarchies. The great characteristic of the period was the feebleness, or rather the abeyance, of kingly and therefore of civil authority; and hence it seems as if, civil society no longer cohering, men universally flung themselves back on a social organisation older than the beginnings of civil communities. The lord with his vassals, during the ninth and tenth centuries, may be considered as a patriarchal household, recruited, not as in the primitive times by Adoption, but by Infeudation; and to such a confederacy, succession by Primogeniture was a source of strength and durability. So long as the land was kept together on which the entire organisation rested, it was powerful for defence and attack; to divide the land was to divide the little society, and voluntarily to invite aggression in an era of universal violence. We may be perfectly certain that into this preference for Primogeniture there entered no idea of disinheriting the bulk of the children in favour of one. Everybody would have suffered by the division of the fief. Everybody was a gainer by its consolidation. The Family grew stronger by the concentration of power in the same hands; nor is it likely that the lord who was invested with the inheritance had any advantage over his brethren and kinsfolk in occupations, interests, or indulgences. It would be a singular anachronism to estimate the privileges succeeded to by the heir of a fief, by the situation in which the eldest son is placed under an English strict settlement. I have said that I regard the early feudal confederacies as descended from an archaic form of the Family, and as wearing a strong resemblance to it. But then in the ancient world, and in the societies which have not passed through the crucible of feudalism, the Primogeniture which seems to have prevailed never transformed itself into the Primogeniture of the later feudal Europe. When the group of kinsmen ceased to be governed through a series of generations by a hereditary chief, the domain which had been managed for all appears to have been equally divided among all. Why did this not occur in the feudal world? If during the confusions of the first feudal period the eldest son held the land for the behoof of the whole family, why was it that when feudal Europe had consolidated itself, and regular communities were again established, the whole family did not resume that capacity for equal inheritance which had belonged to Roman and German alike? The key which unlocks this difficulty has rarely been seized by the writers who occupy themselves in tracing the genealogy of Feudalism. They perceive the materials of the feudal institutions, but they miss the cement. The ideas and social forms which contributed to the formation of the system were unquestionably barbarian and archaic, but, as soon as Courts and lawyers were called in to interpret and define it, the principles of interpretation which they applied to it were those of the latest Roman jurisprudence, and were therefore excessively refined and matured. In a patriarchally governed society, the eldest son may succeed to the government of the Agnatic group, and to the absolute disposal of its property. But he is not therefore a true proprietor. He has correlative duties not involved in the conception of proprietorship, but quite undefined and quite incapable of definition. The later Roman jurisprudence, however, like our own law, looked upon uncontrolled power over property as equivalent to ownership, and did not, and, in fact, could not, take notice of liabilities of such a kind, that the very conception of them belonged to a period anterior to regular law. The contact of the refined and the barbarous notion had inevitably for its effect the conversion of the eldest son into legal proprietor of the inheritance. The clerical and secular lawyers so defined his position from the first; but it was only by insensible degrees that the younger brother, from participating on equal terms in all the dangers and enjoyments of his kinsman, sank into the priest, the soldier of fortune, or the hanger-on of the mansion. The legal revolution was identical with that which occurred on a smaller scale, and in quite recent times, through the greater part of the Highlands of Scotland. When called in to determine the legal powers of the chieftain over the domains which gave sustenance to the clan, Scottish jurisprudence had long since passed the point at which it could take notice of the vague limitations on completeness of dominion imposed by the claims of the clansmen, and it was inevitable therefore that it should convert the patrimony of many into the estate of one. For the sake of simplicity I have called the mode of succession Primogeniture whenever a single son or descendant succeeds to the authority over a household or society. It is remarkable, however, that in the few very ancient examples which remain to us of this sort of succession, it is not always the eldest son, in the sense familiar to us, who takes up the representation. The form of Primogeniture which has spread over Western Europe has also been perpetuated among the Hindoos, and there is every reason to believe that it is the normal form. Under it, not only the eldest son, but the eldest line is always preferred. If the eldest son fails, his eldest son has precedence not only over brothers but over uncles; and, if he too fails, the same rule is followed in the next generation. But when the succession is not merely to _civil_ but to _political_ power, a difficulty may present itself which will appear of greater magnitude according as the cohesion of society is less perfect. The chieftain who last exercised authority may have outlived his eldest son, and the grandson who is primarily entitled to succeed may be too young and immature to undertake the actual guidance of the community, and the administration of its affairs. In such an event, the expedient which suggests itself to the more settled societies is to place the infant heir under guardianship till he reaches the age of fitness for government. The guardianship is generally that of the male Agnates; but it is remarkable that the contingency supposed is one of the rare cases in which ancient societies have consented to the exercise of power by women, doubtless out of respect to the overshadowing claims of the mother. In India, the widow of a Hindoo sovereign governs in the name of her infant son, and we cannot but remember that the custom regulating succession to the throne of France--which, whatever be its origin, is doubtless of the highest antiquity--preferred the queen-mother to all other claimants for the Regency, at the same time that it rigorously excluded all females from the throne. There is, however, another mode of obviating the inconvenience attending the devolution of sovereignty on an infant heir, and it is one which would doubtless occur spontaneously to rudely organised communities. This is to set aside the infant heir altogether, and confer the chieftainship on the eldest surviving male of the first generation. The Celtic clan-associations, among the many phenomena which they have preserved of an age in which civil and political society were not yet even rudimentarily separated, have brought down this rule of succession to historical times. With them, it seems to have existed in the form of a positive canon, that, failing the eldest son, his next brother succeeds in priority to all grandsons, whatever be their age at the moment when the sovereignty devolves. Some writers have explained the principle by assuming that the Celtic customs took the last chieftain as a sort of root or stock, and then gave the succession to the descendant who should be least remote from him; the uncle thus being preferred to the grandson as being nearer to the common root. No objection can be taken to this statement if it be merely intended as a description of the system of succession; but it would be a serious error to conceive the men who first adopted the rule as applying a course of reasoning which evidently dates from the time when feudal schemes of succession begun to be debated among lawyers. The true origin of the preference of the uncle to the grandson is doubtless a simple calculation on the part of rude men in a rude society that it is better to be governed by a grown chieftain than by a child, and that the younger son is more likely to have come to maturity than any of the eldest son's descendants. At the same time, we have some evidence that the form of Primogeniture with which we are best acquainted is the primary form, in the tradition that the assent of the clan was asked when an infant heir was passed over in favour of his uncle. There is a tolerably well authenticated instance of this ceremony in the annals of the Macdonalds. Under Mahometan law, which has probably preserved an ancient Arabian custom, inheritances of property are divided equally among sons, the daughters taking a half share; but if any of the children die before the division of the inheritance, leaving issue behind, these grandchildren are entirely excluded by their uncles and aunts. Consistently with this principle, the succession, when political authority devolves, is according to the form of Primogeniture which appears to have obtained among the Celtic societies. In the two great Mahometan families of the West, the rule is believed to be, that the uncle succeeds to the throne in preference to the nephew, though the latter be the son of an elder brother; but though this rule has been followed quite recently in Egypt, I am informed that there is some doubt as to its governing the devolution of the Turkish sovereignty. The policy of the Sultans has in fact hitherto prevented cases for its application from occurring, and it is possible that their wholesale massacres of their younger brothers may have been perpetuated quite as much in the interest of their children as for the sake of making away with dangerous competitors for the throne. It is evident, however, that in polygamous societies the form of Primogeniture will always tend to vary. Many considerations may constitute a claim on the succession, the rank of the mother, for example, or her degree in the affections of the father. Accordingly, some of the Indian Mahometan sovereigns, without pretending to any distinct testamentary power, claim the right of nominating the son who is to succeed. The _blessing_ mentioned in the Scriptural history of Isaac and his sons has sometimes been spoken of as a will, but it seems rather to have been a mode of naming an eldest son. CHAPTER VIII THE EARLY HISTORY OF PROPERTY The Roman Institutional Treatises, after giving their definition of the various forms and modifications of ownership, proceed to discuss the Natural Modes of Acquiring Property. Those who are unfamiliar with the history of jurisprudence are not likely to look upon these "natural modes" of acquisition as possessing, at first sight, either much speculative or much practical interest. The wild animal which is snared or killed by the hunter, the soil which is added to our field by the imperceptible deposits of a river, the tree which strikes its roots into our ground, are each said by the Roman lawyers to be acquired by us _naturally_. The older jurisconsults had doubtless observed that such acquisitions were universally sanctioned by the usages of the little societies around them, and thus the lawyers of a later age, finding them classed in the ancient Jus Gentium, and perceiving them to be of the simplest description, allotted them a place among the ordinances of Nature. The dignity with which they were invested has gone on increasing in modern times till it is quite out of proportion to their original importance. Theory has made them its favourite food, and has enabled them to exercise the most serious influence on practice. It will be necessary for us to attend to one only among these "natural modes of acquisition," Occupatio or Occupancy. Occupancy is the advisedly taking possession of that which at the moment is the property of no man, with the view (adds the technical definition) of acquiring property in it for yourself. The objects which the Roman lawyers called _res nullius_--things which have not or have never had an owner--can only be ascertained by enumerating them. Among things which _never had_ an owner are wild animals, fishes, wild fowl, jewels disinterred for the first time, and lands newly discovered or never before cultivated. Among things which _have not_ an owner are moveables which have been abandoned, lands which have been deserted, and (an anomalous but most formidable item) the property of an enemy. In all these objects the full rights of dominion were acquired by the _Occupant_ who first took possession of them with the intention of keeping them as his own--an intention which, in certain cases, had to be manifested by specific acts. It is not difficult, I think, to understand the universality which caused the practice of Occupancy to be placed by one generation of Roman lawyers in the Law common to all Nations, and the simplicity which occasioned its being attributed by another to the Law of Nature. But for its fortunes in modern legal history we are less prepared by _à priori_ considerations. The Roman principle of Occupancy, and the rules into which the jurisconsults expanded it, are the source of all modern International Law on the subject of Capture in War and of the acquisition of sovereign rights in newly discovered countries. They have also supplied a theory of the Origin of Property, which is at once the popular theory, and the theory which, in one form or another, is acquiesced in by the great majority of speculative jurists. I have said that the Roman principle of Occupancy has determined the tenor of that chapter of International Law which is concerned with Capture in War. The Law of Warlike Capture derives its rules from the assumption that communities are remitted to a state of nature by the outbreak of hostilities, and that, in the artificial natural condition thus produced, the institution of private property falls into abeyance so far as concerns the belligerents. As the later writers on the Law of Nature have always been anxious to maintain that private property was in some sense sanctioned by the system which they were expounding, the hypothesis that an enemy's property is _res nullius_ has seemed to them perverse and shocking, and they are careful to stigmatise it as a mere fiction of jurisprudence. But, as soon as the Law of Nature is traced to its source in the Jus Gentium, we see at once how the goods of an enemy came to be looked upon as nobody's property, and therefore as capable of being acquired by the first occupant. The idea would occur spontaneously to persons practising the ancient forms of Warfare, when victory dissolved the organisation of the conquering army and dismissed the soldiers to indiscriminate plunder. It is probable, however, that originally it was only moveable property which was thus permitted to be acquired by the Captor. We know on independent authority that a very different rule prevailed in ancient Italy as to the acquisition of ownership in the soil of a conquered country, and we may therefore suspect that the application of the principle of occupancy to land (always a matter of difficulty) dates from the period when the Jus Gentium was becoming the Code of Nature, and that it is the result of a generalisation effected by the jurisconsults of the golden age. Their dogmas on the point are preserved in the Pandects of Justinian, and amount to an unqualified assertion that enemy's property of every sort is _res nullius_ to the other belligerent, and that Occupancy, by which the Captor makes them his own, is an institution of Natural Law. The rules which International jurisprudence derives from these positions have sometimes been stigmatised as needlessly indulgent to the ferocity and cupidity of combatants, but the charge has been made, I think, by persons who are unacquainted with the history of wars, and who are consequently ignorant how great an exploit it is to command obedience for a rule of any kind. The Roman principle of Occupancy, when it was admitted into the modern law of Capture in War, drew with it a number of subordinate canons, limiting and giving precision to its operation, and if the contests which have been waged since the treatise of Grotius became an authority, are compared with those of an earlier date, it will be seen that, as soon as the Roman maxims were received, Warfare instantly assumed a more tolerable complexion. If the Roman law of Occupancy is to be taxed with having had pernicious influence on any part of the modern Law of Nations, there is another chapter in it which may be said, with some reason, to have been injuriously affected. In applying to the discovery of new countries the same principles which the Romans had applied to the finding of a jewel, the Publicists forced into their service a doctrine altogether unequal to the task expected from it. Elevated into extreme importance by the discoveries of the great navigators of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, it raised more disputes than it solved. The greatest uncertainty was very shortly found to exist on the very two points on which certainty was most required, the extent of the territory which was acquired for his sovereign by the discoverer, and the nature of the acts which were necessary to complete the _adprehensio_ or assumption of sovereign possession. Moreover, the principle itself, conferring as it did such enormous advantages as the consequence of a piece of good luck, was instinctively mutinied against by some of the most adventurous nations in Europe, the Dutch, the English, and the Portuguese. Our own countrymen, without expressly denying the rule of International Law, never did, in practice, admit the claim of the Spaniards to engross the whole of America south of the Gulf of Mexico, or that of the King of France to monopolise the valleys of the Ohio and the Mississippi. From the accession of Elizabeth to the accession of Charles the Second, it cannot be said that there was at any time thorough peace in the American waters, and the encroachments of the New England Colonists on the territory of the French King continued for almost a century longer. Bentham was so struck with the confusion attending the application of the legal principle, that he went out of his way to eulogise the famous Bull of Pope Alexander the Sixth, dividing the undiscovered countries of the world between the Spaniards and Portuguese by a line drawn one hundred leagues West of the Azores; and, grotesque as his praises may appear at first sight, it may be doubted whether the arrangement of Pope Alexander is absurder in principle than the rule of Public law, which gave half a continent to the monarch whose servants had fulfilled the conditions required by Roman jurisprudence for the acquisition of property in a valuable object which could be covered by the hand. To all who pursue the inquiries which are the subject of this volume, Occupancy is pre-eminently interesting on the score of the service it has been made to perform for speculative jurisprudence, in furnishing a supposed explanation of the origin of private property. It was once universally believed that the proceeding implied in Occupancy was identical with the process by which the earth and its fruits, which were at first in common, became the allowed property of individuals. The course of thought which led to this assumption is not difficult to understand, if we seize the shade of difference which separates the ancient from the modern conception of Natural Law. The Roman lawyers had laid down that Occupancy was one of the Natural modes of acquiring property, and they undoubtedly believed that, were mankind living under the institutions of Nature, Occupancy would be one of their practices. How far they persuaded themselves that such a condition of the race had ever existed, is a point, as I have already stated, which their language leaves in much uncertainty; but they certainly do seem to have made the conjecture, which has at all times possessed much plausibility, that the institution of property was not so old as the existence of mankind. Modern jurisprudence, accepting all their dogmas without reservation, went far beyond them in the eager curiosity with which it dwelt on the supposed state of Nature. Since then it had received the position that the earth and its fruits were once _res nullius_, and since its peculiar view of Nature led it to assume without hesitation that the human race had actually practised the Occupancy of _res nullius_ long before the organisation of civil societies, the inference immediately suggested itself that Occupancy was the process by which the "no man's goods" of the primitive world became the private property of individuals in the world of history. It would be wearisome to enumerate the jurists who have subscribed to this theory in one shape or another, and it is the less necessary to attempt it because Blackstone, who is always a faithful index of the average opinions of his day, has summed them up in his 2nd book and 1st chapter. "The earth," he writes, "and all things therein were the general property of mankind from the immediate gift of the Creator. Not that the communion of goods seems ever to have been applicable, even in the earliest ages, to aught but the substance of the thing; nor could be extended to the use of it. For, by the law of nature and reason he who first began to use it acquired therein a kind of transient property that lasted so long as he was using it, and no longer; or to speak with greater precision, the right of possession continued for the same time only that the act of possession lasted. Thus the ground was in common, and no part was the permanent property of any man in particular; yet whoever was in the occupation of any determined spot of it, for rest, for shade, or the like, acquired for the time a sort of ownership, from which it would have been unjust and contrary to the law of nature to have driven him by force, but the instant that he quitted the use of occupation of it, another might seize it without injustice." He then proceeds to argue that "when mankind increased in number, it became necessary to entertain conceptions of more permanent dominion, and to appropriate to individuals not the immediate use only, but the very substance of the thing to be used." Some ambiguities of expression in this passage lead to the suspicion that Blackstone did not quite understand the meaning of the proposition which he found in his authorities, that property in the earth's surface was first acquired, under the law of Nature, by the _occupant_; but the limitation which designedly or through misapprehension he has imposed on the theory brings it into a form which it has not infrequently assumed. Many writers more famous than Blackstone for precision of language have laid down that, in the beginning of things, Occupancy first gave a right against the world to an exclusive but temporary enjoyment, and that afterwards this right, while it remained exclusive, became perpetual. Their object in so stating their theory was to reconcile the doctrine that in the state of Nature _res nullius_ became property through Occupancy, with the inference which they drew from the Scriptural history that the Patriarchs did not at first permanently appropriate the soil which had been grazed over by their flocks and herds. The only criticism which could be directly applied to the theory of Blackstone would consist in inquiring whether the circumstances which make up his picture of a primitive society are more or less probable than other incidents which could be imagined with equal readiness. Pursuing this method of examination, we might fairly ask whether the man who had _occupied_ (Blackstone evidently uses this word with its ordinary English meaning) a particular spot of ground for rest or shade would be permitted to retain it without disturbance. The chances surely are that his right to possession would be exactly coextensive with his power to keep it, and that he would be constantly liable to disturbance by the first comer who coveted the spot and thought himself strong enough to drive away the possessor. But the truth is that all such cavil at these positions is perfectly idle from the very baselessness of the positions themselves. What mankind did in the primitive state may not be a hopeless subject of inquiry, but of their motives for doing it it is impossible to know anything. These sketches of the plight of human beings in the first ages of the world are effected by first supposing mankind to be divested of a great part of the circumstances by which they are now surrounded, and by then assuming that, in the condition thus imagined, they would preserve the same sentiments and prejudices by which they are now actuated,--although, in fact, these sentiments may have been created and engendered by those very circumstances of which, by the hypothesis, they are to be stripped. There is an aphorism of Savigny which has been sometimes thought to countenance a view of the origin of property somewhat similar to the theories epitomised by Blackstone. The great German jurist has laid down that all Property is founded on Adverse Possession ripened by Prescription. It is only with respect to Roman law that Savigny makes this statement, and before it can fully be appreciated much labour must be expended in explaining and defining the expressions employed. His meaning will, however, be indicated with sufficient accuracy if we consider him to assert that, how far soever we carry our inquiry into the ideas of property received among the Romans, however closely we approach in tracing them to the infancy of law, we can get no farther than a conception of ownership involving the three elements in the canon--Possession, Adverseness of Possession, that is a holding not permissive or subordinate, but exclusive against the world, and Prescription, or a period of time during which the Adverse Possession has uninterruptedly continued. It is exceedingly probable that this maxim might be enunciated with more generality than was allowed to it by its author, and that no sound or safe conclusion can be looked for from investigations into any system of laws which are pushed farther back than the point at which these combined ideas constitute the notion of proprietary right. Meantime, so far from bearing out the popular theory of the origin of property, Savigny's canon is particularly valuable as directing our attention to its weakest point. In the view of Blackstone and those whom he follows, it was the mode of assuming the exclusive enjoyment which mysteriously affected the minds of the fathers of our race. But the mystery does not reside here. It is not wonderful that property began in adverse possession. It is not surprising that the first proprietor should have been the strong man armed who kept his goods in peace. But why it was that lapse of time created a sentiment of respect for his possession--which is the exact source of the universal reverence of mankind for that which has for a long period _de facto_ existed--are questions really deserving the profoundest examination, but lying far beyond the boundary of our present inquiries. Before pointing out the quarter in which we may hope to glean some information, scanty and uncertain at best, concerning the early history of proprietary right, I venture to state my opinion that the popular impression in reference to the part played by Occupancy in the first stages of civilisation directly reverses the truth. Occupancy is the advised assumption of physical possession; and the notion that an act of this description confers a title to "res nullius," so far from being characteristic of very early societies, is in all probability the growth of a refined jurisprudence and of a settled condition of the laws. It is only when the rights of property have gained a sanction from long practical inviolability and when the vast majority of the objects of enjoyment have been subjected to private ownership, that mere possession is allowed to invest the first possessor with dominion over commodities in which no prior proprietorship has been asserted. The sentiment in which this doctrine originated is absolutely irreconcilable with that infrequency and uncertainty of proprietary rights which distinguish the beginnings of civilisation. Its true basis seems to be, not an instinctive bias towards the institution of Property, but a presumption arising out of the long continuance of that institution, that _everything ought to have an owner_. When possession is taken of a "res nullius," that is, of an object which _is_ not, or has _never_ been, reduced to dominion, the possessor is permitted to become proprietor from a feeling that all valuable things are naturally the subjects of an exclusive enjoyment, and that in the given case there is no one to invest with the right of property except the Occupant. The Occupant in short, becomes the owner, because all things are presumed to be somebody's property and because no one can be pointed out as having a better right than he to the proprietorship of this particular thing. Even were there no other objection to the descriptions of mankind in their natural state which we have been discussing, there is one particular in which they are fatally at variance with the authentic evidence possessed by us. It will be observed that the acts and motives which these theories suppose are the acts and motives of Individuals. It is each Individual who for himself subscribes the Social Compact. It is some shifting sandbank in which the grains are Individual men, that according to the theory of Hobbes is hardened into the social rock by the wholesome discipline of force. It is an Individual who, in the picture drawn by Blackstone, "is in the occupation of a determined spot of ground for rest, for shade, or the like." The vice is one which necessarily afflicts all the theories descended from the Natural Law of the Romans, which differed principally from their Civil Law in the account which it took of Individuals, and which has rendered precisely its greatest service to civilisation in enfranchising the individual from the authority of archaic society. But Ancient Law, it must again be repeated, knows next to nothing of Individuals. It is concerned not with Individuals, but with Families, not with single human beings, but groups. Even when the law of the State has succeeded in permeating the small circles of kindred into which it had originally no means of penetrating, the view it takes of Individuals is curiously different from that taken by jurisprudence in its maturest stage. The life of each citizen is not regarded as limited by birth and death; it is but a continuation of the existence of his forefathers, and it will be prolonged in the existence of his descendants. The Roman distinction between the Law of Persons and the Law of Things, which though extremely convenient is entirely artificial, has evidently done much to divert inquiry on the subject before us from the true direction. The lessons learned in discussing the Jus Personarum have been forgotten where the Jus Rerum is reached, and Property, Contract, and Delict, have been considered as if no hints concerning their original nature were to be gained from the facts ascertained respecting the original condition of Persons. The futility of this method would be manifest if a system of pure archaic law could be brought before us, and if the experiment could be tried of applying to it the Roman classifications. It would soon be seen that the separation of the Law of Persons from that of Things has no meaning in the infancy of law, that the rules belonging to the two departments are inextricably mingled together, and that the distinctions of the later jurists are appropriate only to the later jurisprudence. From what has been said in the earlier portions of this treatise, it will be gathered that there is a strong _à priori_ improbability of our obtaining any clue to the early history of property, if we confine our notice to the proprietary rights of individuals. It is more than likely that joint-ownership, and not separate ownership, is the really archaic institution, and that the forms of property which will afford us instruction will be those which are associated with the rights of families and of groups of kindred. The Roman jurisprudence will not here assist in enlightening us, for it is exactly the Roman jurisprudence which, transformed by the theory of Natural Law, has bequeathed to the moderns the impression that individual ownership is the normal state of proprietary right, and that ownership in common by groups of men is only the exception to a general rule. There is, however, one community which will always be carefully examined by the inquirer who is in quest of any lost institution of primeval society. How far soever any such institution may have undergone change among the branch of the Indo-European family which has been settled for ages in India, it will seldom be found to have entirely cast aside the shell in which it was originally reared. It happens that, among the Hindoos, we do find a form of ownership which ought at once to rivet our attention from its exactly fitting in with the ideas which our studies in the Law of Persons would lead us to entertain respecting the original condition of property. The Village Community of India is at once an organised patriarchal society and an assemblage of co-proprietors. The personal relations to each other of the men who compose it are indistinguishably confounded with their proprietary rights, and to the attempts of English functionaries to separate the two may be assigned some of the most formidable miscarriages of Anglo-Indian administration. The Village Community is known to be of immense antiquity. In whatever direction research has been pushed into Indian history, general or local, it has always found the Community in existence at the farthest point of its progress. A great number of intelligent and observant writers, most of whom had no theory of any sort to support concerning its nature and origin, agree in considering it the least destructible institution of a society which never willingly surrenders any one of its usages to innovation. Conquests and revolutions seem to have swept over it without disturbing or displacing it, and the most beneficent systems of government in India have always been those which have recognised it as the basis of administration. The mature Roman law, and modern jurisprudence following in its wake, look upon co-ownership as an exceptional and momentary condition of the rights of property. This view is clearly indicated in the maxim which obtains universally in Western Europe, _Nemo in communione potest invitus detineri_ ("No one can be kept in co-proprietorship against his will"). But in India this order of ideas is reversed, and it may be said that separate proprietorship is always on its way to become proprietorship in common. The process has been adverted to already. As soon as a son is born, he acquires a vested interest in his father's substance, and on attaining years of discretion he is even, in certain contingencies, permitted by the letter of the law to call for a partition of the family estate. As a fact, however, a division rarely takes place even at the death of the father, and the property constantly remains undivided for several generations, though every member of every generation has a legal right to an undivided share in it. The domain thus held in common is sometimes administered by an elected manager, but more generally, and in some provinces always, it is managed by the eldest agnate, by the eldest representative of the eldest line of the stock. Such an assemblage of joint proprietors, a body of kindred holding a domain in common, is the simplest form of an Indian Village Community, but the Community is more than a brotherhood of relatives and more than an association of partners. It is an organised society, and besides providing for the management of the common fund, it seldom fails to provide, by a complete staff of functionaries, for internal government, for police, for the administration of justice, and for the apportionment of taxes and public duties. The process which I have described as that under which a Village Community is formed, may be regarded as typical. Yet it is not to be supposed that every Village Community in India drew together in so simple a manner. Although, in the North of India, the archives, as I am informed, almost invariably show that the Community was founded by a single assemblage of blood-relations, they also supply information that men of alien extraction have always, from time to time, been engrafted on it, and a mere purchaser of a share may generally, under certain conditions, be admitted to the brotherhood. In the South of the Peninsula there are often Communities which appear to have sprung not from one but from two or more families; and there are some whose composition is known to be entirely artificial; indeed, the occasional aggregation of men of different castes in the same society is fatal to the hypothesis of a common descent. Yet in all these brotherhoods either the tradition is preserved, or the assumption made, of an original common parentage. Mountstuart Elphinstone, who writes more particularly of the Southern Village Communities, observes of them (_History of India_, i. 126): "The popular notion is that the Village landholders are all descended from one or more individuals who settled the village; and that the only exceptions are formed by persons who have derived their rights by purchase or otherwise from members of the original stock. The supposition is confirmed by the fact that, to this day, there are only single families of landholders in small villages and not many in large ones; but each has branched out into so many members that it is not uncommon for the whole agricultural labour to be done by the landholders, without the aid either of tenants or of labourers. The rights of the landholders are theirs collectively and, though they almost always have a more or less perfect partition of them, they never have an entire separation. A landholder, for instance, can sell or mortgage his rights; but he must first have the consent of the Village, and the purchaser steps exactly into his place and takes up all his obligations. If a family becomes extinct, its share returns to the common stock." Some considerations which have been offered in the fifth chapter of this volume will assist the reader, I trust, in appreciating the significance of Elphinstone's language. No institution of the primitive world is likely to have been preserved to our day, unless it has acquired an elasticity foreign to its original nature through some vivifying legal fiction. The Village Community then is not necessarily an assemblage of blood-relations, but it is _either_ such an assemblage _or_ a body of co-proprietors formed on the model of an association of kinsmen. The type with which it should be compared is evidently not the Roman Family, but the Roman Gens or House. The Gens was also a group on the model of the family; it was the family extended by a variety of fictions of which the exact nature was lost in antiquity. In historical times, its leading characteristics were the very two which Elphinstone remarks in the Village Community. There was always the assumption of a common origin, an assumption sometimes notoriously at variance with fact; and, to repeat the historian's words, "if a family became extinct, its share returned to the common stock." In old Roman law, unclaimed inheritances escheated to the Gentiles. It is further suspected by all who have examined their history that the Communities, like the Gentes, have been very generally adulterated by the admission of strangers, but the exact mode of absorption cannot now be ascertained. At present, they are recruited, as Elphinstone tells us, by the admission of purchasers, with the consent of the brotherhood. The acquisition of the adopted member is, however, of the nature of a universal succession; together with the share he has bought, he succeeds to the liabilities which the vendor had incurred towards the aggregate group. He is an Emptor Familiæ, and inherits the legal clothing of the person whose place he begins to fill. The consent of the whole brotherhood required for his admission may remind us of the consent which the Comitia Curiata, the Parliament of that larger brotherhood of self-styled kinsmen, the ancient Roman commonwealth, so strenuously insisted on as essential to the legalisation of an Adoption or the confirmation of a Will. The tokens of an extreme antiquity are discoverable in almost every single feature of the Indian Village Communities. We have so many independent reasons for suspecting that the infancy of law is distinguished by the prevalence of co-ownership by the intermixture of personal with proprietary rights, and by the confusion of public with private duties, that we should be justified in deducing many important conclusions from our observation of these proprietary brotherhoods, even if no similarly compounded societies could be detected in any other part of the world. It happens, however, that much earnest curiosity has been very recently attracted to a similar set of phenomena in those parts of Europe which have been most slightly affected by the feudal transformation of property, and which in many important particulars have as close an affinity with the Eastern as with the Western world. The researches of M. de Haxthausen, M. Tengoborski, and others, have shown us that the Russian villages are not fortuitous assemblages of men, nor are they unions founded on contract; they are naturally organised communities like those of India. It is true that these villages are always in theory the patrimony of some noble proprietor and the peasants have within historical times been converted into the predial, and to a great extent into the personal, serfs of the seignior. But the pressure of this superior ownership has never crushed the ancient organisation of the village, and it is probable that the enactment of the Czar of Russia, who is supposed to have introduced serfdom, was really intended to prevent the peasants from abandoning that co-operation without which the old social order could not long be maintained. In the assumption of an agnatic connection between the villagers, in the blending of personal rights with privileges of ownership, and in a variety of spontaneous provisions for internal administration, the Russian Village appears to be a nearly exact repetition of the Indian Community; but there is one important difference which we note with the greatest interest. The co-owners of an Indian village, though their property is blended, have their rights distinct, and this separation of rights is complete and continues indefinitely. The severance of rights is also theoretically complete in a Russian village, but there it is only temporary. After the expiration of a given, but not in all cases of the same, period separate ownerships are extinguished, the land of the village is thrown into a mass, and then it is re-distributed among the families composing the community, according to their number. This repartition having been effected, the rights of families and of individuals are again allowed to branch out into various lines, which they continue to follow till another period of division comes round. An even more curious variation from this type of ownership occurs in some of those countries which long formed a debateable land between the Turkish empire and the possessions of the House of Austria. In Servia, in Croatia, and the Austrian Sclavonia, the villages are also brotherhoods of persons who are at once co-owners and kinsmen; but there the internal arrangements of the community differ from those adverted to in the last two examples. The substance of the common property is in this case neither divided in practice nor considered in theory as divisible, but the entire land is cultivated by the combined labour of all the villagers, and the produce is annually distributed among the households, sometimes according to their supposed wants, sometimes according to rules which give to particular persons a fixed share of the usufruct. All these practices are traced by the jurists of the East of Europe to a principle which is asserted to be found in the earliest Sclavonian laws, the principle that the property of families cannot be divided for a perpetuity. The great interest of these phenomena in an inquiry like the present arises from the light they throw on the development of distinct proprietary rights _inside_ the groups by which property seems to have been originally held. We have the strongest reason for thinking that property once belonged not to individuals nor even to isolated families, but to larger societies composed on the patriarchal model; but the mode of transition from ancient to modern ownerships, obscure at best, would have been infinitely obscurer if several distinguishable forms of Village Communities had not been discovered and examined. It is worth while to attend to the varieties of internal arrangement within the patriarchal groups which are, or were till recently, observable among races of Indo-European blood. The chiefs of the ruder Highland clans used, it is said, to dole out food to the heads of the households under their jurisdiction at the very shortest intervals, and sometimes day by day. A periodical distribution is also made to the Sclavonian villagers of the Austrian and Turkish provinces by the elders of their body, but then it is a distribution once for all of the total produce of the year. In the Russian villages, however, the substance of the property ceases to be looked upon as indivisible, and separate proprietary claims are allowed freely to grow up, but then the progress of separation is peremptorily arrested after it has continued a certain time. In India, not only is there no indivisibility of the common fund, but separate proprietorship in parts of it may be indefinitely prolonged and may branch out into any number of derivative ownerships, the _de facto_ partition of the stock being, however, checked by inveterate usage, and by the rule against the admission of strangers without the consent of the brotherhood. It is not of course intended to insist that these different forms of the Village Community represent distinct stages in a process of transmutation which has been everywhere accomplished in the same manner. But, though the evidence does not warrant our going so far as this, it renders less presumptuous the conjecture that private property, in the shape in which we know it, was chiefly formed by the gradual disentanglement of the separate rights of individuals from the blended rights of a community. Our studies in the Law of Persons seemed to show us the Family expanding into the Agnatic group of kinsmen, then the Agnatic group dissolving into separate households; lastly the household supplanted by the individual; and it is now suggested that each step in the change corresponds to an analogous alteration in the nature of Ownership. If there be any truth in the suggestion, it is to be observed that it materially affects the problem which theorists on the origin of Property have generally proposed to themselves. The question--perhaps an insoluble one--which they have mostly agitated is, what were the motives which first induced men to respect each other's possessions? It may still be put, without much hope of finding an answer to it, in the form of any inquiry into the reasons which led one composite group to keep aloof from the domain of another. But, if it be true that far the most important passage in the history of Private Property is its gradual elimination from the co-ownership of kinsmen, then the great point of inquiry is identical with that which lies on the threshold of all historical law--what were the motives which originally prompted men to hold together in the family union? To such a question, Jurisprudence, unassisted by other sciences, is not competent to give a reply. The fact can only be noted. The undivided state of property in ancient societies is consistent with a peculiar sharpness of division, which shows itself as soon as any single share is completely separated from the patrimony of the group. This phenomenon springs, doubtless, from the circumstance that the property is supposed to become the domain of a new group, so that any dealing with it, in its divided state, is a transaction between two highly complex bodies. I have already compared Ancient Law to Modern International Law, in respect of the size and complexity of the corporate associations, whose rights and duties it settles. As the contracts and conveyances known to ancient law are contracts and conveyances to which not single individuals, but organised companies of men, are parties, they are in the highest degree ceremonious; they require a variety of symbolical acts and words intended to impress the business on the memory of all who take part in it; and they demand the presence of an inordinate number of witnesses. From these peculiarities, and others allied to them, springs the universally unmalleable character of the ancient forms of property. Sometimes the patrimony of the family is absolutely inalienable, as was the case with the Sclavonians, and still oftener, though alienations may not be entirely illegitimate, they are virtually impracticable, as among most of the Germanic tribes, from the necessity of having the consent of a large number of persons to the transfer. Where these impediments do not exist, or can be surmounted, the act of conveyance itself is generally burdened with a perfect load of ceremony, in which not one iota can be safely neglected. Ancient law uniformly refuses to dispense with a single gesture, however grotesque; with a single syllable, however its meaning may have been forgotten; with a single witness, however superfluous may be his testimony. The entire solemnities must be scrupulously completed by persons legally entitled to take part in them, or else the conveyance is null, and the seller is re-established in the rights of which he had vainly attempted to divest himself. These various obstacles to the free circulation of the objects of use and enjoyment, begin of course to make themselves felt as soon as society has acquired even a slight degree of activity, and the expedients by which advancing communities endeavour to overcome them form the staple of the history of Property. Of such expedients there is one which takes precedence of the rest from its antiquity and universality. The idea seems to have spontaneously suggested itself to a great number of early societies, to classify property into kinds. One kind or sort of property is placed on a lower footing of dignity than the others, but at the same time is relieved from the fetters which antiquity has imposed on them. Subsequently, the superior convenience of the rules governing the transfer and descent of the lower order of property becomes generally recognised, and by a gradual course of innovation the plasticity of the less dignified class of valuable objects is communicated to the classes which stand conventionally higher. The history of Roman Property Law is the history of the assimilation of Res Mancipi to Res Nec Mancipi. The history of Property on the European Continent is the history of the subversion of the feudalised law of land by the Romanised law of moveables; and, though the history of ownership in England is not nearly completed, it is visibly the law of personalty which threatens to absorb and annihilate the law of realty. The only _natural_ classification of the objects of enjoyment, the only classification which corresponds with an essential difference in the subject-matter, is that which divides them into Moveables and Immoveables. Familiar as is this classification to jurisprudence, it was very slowly developed by Roman law, from which we inherit it, and was only finally adopted by it in its latest stage. The classifications of Ancient Law have sometimes a superficial resemblance to this. They occasionally divide property into categories, and place immoveables in one of them; but then it is found that they either class along with immoveables a number of objects which have no sort of relation with them, or else divorce them from various rights to which they have a close affinity. Thus, the Res Mancipi of Roman Law included not only land, but slaves, horses, and oxen. Scottish law ranks with land a certain class of securities, and Hindoo law associates it with slaves. English law, on the other hand, parts leases of land for years from other interests in the soil, and joins them to personalty under the name of chattels real. Moreover, the classifications of Ancient Law are classifications implying superiority and inferiority; while the distinction between moveables and immoveables, so long at least as it was confined to Roman jurisprudence, carried with it no suggestion whatever of a difference in dignity. The Res Mancipi, however, did certainly at first enjoy a precedence over the Res Nec Mancipi, as did heritable property in Scotland and realty in England, over the personalty to which they were opposed. The lawyers of all systems have spared no pains in striving to refer these classifications to some intelligible principle; but the reasons of the severance must ever be vainly sought for in the philosophy of law: they belong not to its philosophy, but to its history. The explanation which appears to cover the greatest number of instances is, that the objects of enjoyment honoured above the rest were the forms of property known first and earliest to each particular community, and dignified therefore emphatically with the designation of _Property_. On the other hand, the articles not enumerated among the favoured objects seem to have been placed on a lower standing, because the knowledge of their value was posterior to the epoch at which the catalogue of superior property was settled. They were at first unknown, rare, limited in their uses, or else regarded as mere appendages to the privileged objects. Thus, though the Roman Res Mancipi included a number of moveable articles of great value, still the most costly jewels were never allowed to take rank as Res Mancipi, because they were unknown to the early Romans. In the same way chattels real in England are said to have been degraded to the footing of personalty, from the infrequency and valuelessness of such estates under the feudal land-law. But the grand point of interest is, the continued degradation of these commodities when their importance had increased and their number had multiplied. Why were they not successively included among the favoured objects of enjoyment? One reason is found in the stubbornness with which Ancient Law adheres to its classifications. It is a characteristic both of uneducated minds and of early societies, that they are little able to conceive a general rule apart from the particular applications of it with which they are practically familiar. They cannot dissociate a general term or maxim from the special examples which meet them in daily experience; and in this way the designation covering the best-known forms of property is denied to articles which exactly resemble them in being objects of enjoyment and subjects of right. But to these influences, which exert peculiar force in a subject-matter so stable as that of law, are afterwards added others more consistent with progress in enlightenment and in the conceptions of general expediency. Courts and lawyers become at last alive to the inconvenience of the embarrassing formalities required for the transfer, recovery, or devolution of the favoured commodities, and grow unwilling to fetter the newer descriptions of property with the technical trammels which characterised the infancy of law. Hence arises a disposition to keep these last on a lower grade in the arrangements of Jurisprudence, and to permit their transfer by simpler processes than those which, in archaic conveyances, serve as stumbling-blocks to good faith and stepping-stones to fraud. We are perhaps in some danger of underrating the inconveniences of the ancient modes of transfer. Our instruments of conveyance are written, so that their language, well pondered by the professional draftsman, is rarely defective in accuracy. But an ancient conveyance was not written, but _acted_. Gestures and words took the place of written technical phraseology, and any formula mispronounced, or symbolical act omitted, would have vitiated the proceeding as fatally as a material mistake in stating the uses or setting out the remainders would, two hundred years ago, have vitiated an English deed. Indeed, the mischiefs of the archaic ceremonial are even thus only half stated. So long as elaborate conveyances, written or acted, are required for the alienation of _land_ alone, the chances of mistake are not considerable in the transfer of a description of property which is seldom got rid of with much precipitation. But the higher class of property in the ancient world comprised not only land but several of the commonest and several of the most valuable moveables. When once the wheels of society had begun to move quickly, there must have been immense inconvenience in demanding a highly intricate form of transfer for a horse or an ox, or for the most costly chattel of the old world--the Slave. Such commodities must have been constantly and even ordinarily conveyed with incomplete forms, and held, therefore, under imperfect titles. The Res Mancipi of old Roman law were land--in historical times, land on Italian soil,--slaves and beasts of burden, such as horses and oxen. It is impossible to doubt that the objects which make up the class are the instruments of agricultural labour, the commodities of first consequence to a primitive people. Such commodities were at first, I imagine, called emphatically Things or Property, and the mode of conveyance by which they were transferred was called a Mancipium or Mancipation; but it was not probably till much later that they received the distinctive appellation of Res Mancipi, "Things which require a Mancipation." By their side there may have existed or grown up a class of objects, for which it was not worth while to insist upon the full ceremony of Mancipation. It would be enough if, in transferring these last from owner to owner, a part only of the ordinary formalities were proceeded with, namely, that actual delivery, physical transfer, or _tradition_, which is the most obvious index of a change of proprietorship. Such commodities were the Res Nec Mancipi of the ancient jurisprudence, "things which did not require a Mancipation," little prized probably at first, and not often passed from one group of proprietors to another, While, however, the list of the Res Mancipi was irrevocably closed; that of the Res Nec Mancipi admitted of indefinite expansion; and hence every fresh conquest of man over material nature added an item to the Res Nec Mancipi, or effected an improvement in those already recognised. Insensibly, therefore, they mounted to an equality with the Res Mancipi, and the impression of an intrinsic inferiority being thus dissipated, men began to observe the manifold advantages of the simple formality which accompanied their transfer over the more intricate and more venerable ceremonial. Two of the agents of legal amelioration, Fictions and Equity, were assiduously employed by the Roman lawyers to give the practical effects of a Mancipation to a Tradition: and, though Roman legislators long shrank from enacting that the right of property in a Res Mancipi should be immediately transferred by bare delivery of the article, yet even this step was at last ventured upon by Justinian, in whose jurisprudence the difference between Res Mancipi and Res Nec Mancipi disappears, and Tradition or Delivery becomes the one great conveyance known to the law. The marked preference which the Roman lawyers very early gave to Tradition caused them to assign it a place in their theory which has helped to blind their modern disciples to its true history. It was classed among the "natural" modes of acquisition, both because it was generally practised among the Italian tribes, and because it was a process which attained its object by the simplest mechanism. If the expressions of the jurisconsults be pressed, they undoubtedly imply that Tradition, which belongs to the Law Natural, is more ancient than Mancipation, which is an institution of Civil Society; and this, I need not say, is the exact reverse of the truth. The distinction between Res Mancipi and Res Nec Mancipi is the type of a class of distinctions to which civilisation is much indebted, distinctions which run through the whole mass of commodities, placing a few of them in a class by themselves, and relegating the others to a lower category. The inferior kinds of property are first, from disdain and disregard, released from the perplexed ceremonies in which primitive law delights, and thus afterwards, in another state of intellectual progress, the simple methods of transfer and recovery which have been allowed to come into use serve as a model which condemns by its convenience and simplicity the cumbrous solemnities inherited from ancient days. But, in some societies, the trammels in which Property is tied up are much too complicated and stringent to be relaxed in so easy a manner. Whenever male children have been born to a Hindoo, the law of India, as I have stated, gives them all an interest in his property, and makes their consent a necessary condition of its alienation. In the same spirit, the general usage of the old Germanic peoples--it is remarkable that the Anglo-Saxon customs seem to have been an exception--forbade alienations without the consent of the male children; and the primitive law of the Sclavonians even prohibited them altogether. It is evident that such impediments as these cannot be overcome by a distinction between kinds of property, inasmuch as the difficulty extends to commodities of all sorts; and accordingly, Ancient Law, when once launched on a course of improvement, encounters them with a distinction of another character, a distinction classifying property, not according to its nature but according to its origin. In India, where there are traces of both systems of classification, the one which we are considering is exemplified in the difference which Hindoo law establishes between Inheritances and Acquisitions. The inherited property of the father is shared by the children as soon as they are born; but according to the custom of most provinces, the acquisitions made by him during his lifetime are wholly his own, and can be transferred by him at pleasure. A similar distinction was not unknown to Roman law, in which the earliest innovation on the Parental Powers took the form of a permission given to the son to keep for himself whatever he might have acquired in military service. But the most extensive use ever made of this mode of classification appears to have been among the Germans. I have repeatedly stated that the _allod_, though not inalienable, was commonly transferable with the greatest difficulty; and moreover, it descended exclusively to the agnatic kindred. Hence an extraordinary variety of distinctions came to be recognised, all intended to diminish the inconveniences inseparable from allodial property. The _wehrgeld_, for example, or composition for the homicide of a relative, which occupies so large a space in German jurisprudence, formed no part of the family domain, and descended according to rules of succession altogether different. Similarly, the _reipus_, or fine leviable on the re-marriage of a widow, did not enter into the _allod_ of the person to whom it was paid, and followed a line of devolution in which the privileges of the agnates were neglected. The law, too, as among the Hindoos, distinguished the Acquisitions of the chief of the household from his Inherited property, and permitted him to deal with them under much more liberal conditions. Classifications of the other sort were also admitted, and the familiar distinction drawn between land and moveables; but moveable property was divided into several subordinate categories, to each of which different rules applied. This exuberance of classification, which may strike us as strange in so rude a people as the German conquerors of the Empire, is doubtless to be explained by the presence in their systems of a considerable element of Roman law, absorbed by them during their long sojourn on the confines of the Roman dominion. It is not difficult to trace a great number of the rules governing the transfer and devolution of the commodities which lay outside the _allod_, to their source in Roman jurisprudence, from which they were probably borrowed at widely distant epochs, and in fragmentary importations. How far the obstacles to the free circulation of property were surmounted by such contrivances, we have not the means even of conjecturing, for the distinctions adverted to have no modern history. As I before explained, the allodial form of property was entirely lost in the feudal, and when the consolidation of feudalism was once completed, there was practically but one distinction left standing of all those which had been known to the western world--the distinction between land and goods, immoveables and moveables. Externally this distinction was the same with that which Roman law had finally accepted, but the law of the middle ages differed from that of Rome in distinctly considering immoveable property to be more dignified than moveable. Yet this one sample is enough to show the importance of the class of expedients to which it belongs. In all the countries governed by systems based on the French codes, that is, through much the greatest part of the Continent of Europe, the law of moveables, which was always Roman law, has superseded and annulled the feudal law of land. England is the only country of importance in which this transmutation, though it has gone some way, is not nearly accomplished. Our own, too, it may be added, is the only considerable European country in which the separation of moveables from immoveables has been somewhat disturbed by the same influences which caused the ancient classifications to depart from the only one which is countenanced by nature. In the main, the English distinction has been between land and goods; but a certain class of goods have gone as heir-looms with the land, and a certain description of interests in land have from historical causes been ranked with personalty. This is not the only instance in which English jurisprudence, standing apart from the main current of legal modification, has reproduced phenomena of archaic law. I proceed to notice one or two more contrivances by which the ancient trammels of proprietary right were more or less successfully relaxed, premising that the scheme of this treatise only permits me to mention those which are of great antiquity. On one of them in particular it is necessary to dwell for a moment or two, because persons unacquainted with the early history of law will not be easily persuaded that a principle, of which modern jurisprudence has very slowly and with the greatest difficulty obtained the recognition, was really familiar to the very infancy of legal science. There is no principle in all law which the moderns, in spite of its beneficial character, have been so loath to adopt and to carry to its legitimate consequences as that which was known to the Romans as Usucapion, and which has descended to modern jurisprudence under the name of Prescription. It was a positive rule of the oldest Roman law, a rule older than the Twelve Tables, that commodities which had been uninterruptedly possessed for a certain period became the property of the possessor. The period of possession was exceedingly short--one or two years according to the nature of the commodities--and in historical times Usucapion was only allowed to operate when possession had commenced in a particular way; but I think it likely that at a less advanced epoch possession was converted into ownership under conditions even less severe than we read of in our authorities. As I have said before, I am far from asserting that the respect of men for _de facto_ possession is a phenomenon which jurisprudence can account for by itself, but it is very necessary to remark that primitive societies, in adopting the principle of Usucapion, were not beset with any of the speculative doubts and hesitations which have impeded its reception among the moderns. Prescriptions were viewed by the modern lawyers, first with repugnance, afterwards with reluctant approval. In several countries, including our own, legislation long declined to advance beyond the rude device of barring all actions based on a wrong which had been suffered earlier than a fixed point of time in the past, generally the first year of some preceding reign; nor was it till the middle ages had finally closed, and James the First had ascended the throne of England, that we obtained a true statute of limitation of a very imperfect kind. This tardiness in copying one of the most famous chapters of Roman law, which was no doubt constantly read by the majority of European lawyers, the modern world owes to the influence of the Canon Law. The ecclesiastical customs out of which the Canon Law grew, concerned as they were with sacred or quasi-sacred interests, very naturally regarded the privileges which they conferred as incapable of being lost through disuse however prolonged; and in accordance with this view, the spiritual jurisprudence, when afterwards consolidated, was distinguished by a marked leaning against Prescriptions. It was the fate of the Canon Law, when held up by the clerical lawyers as a pattern to secular legislation, to have a peculiar influence on first principles. It gave to the bodies of custom which were formed throughout Europe far fewer express rules than did the Roman law, but then it seems to have communicated a bias to professional opinion on a surprising number of fundamental points, and the tendencies thus produced progressively gained strength as each system was developed. One of the dispositions it produced was a disrelish for Prescriptions; but I do not know that this prejudice would have operated as powerfully as it has done, if it had not fallen in with the doctrine of the scholastic jurists of the realist sect, who taught that, whatever turn actual legislation might take, a _right_, how long soever neglected, was in point of fact indestructible. The remains of this state of feeling still exist. Wherever the philosophy of law is earnestly discussed, questions respecting the speculative basis of Prescription are always hotly disputed; and it is still a point of the greatest interest in France and Germany, whether a person who has been out of possession for a series of years is deprived of his ownership as a penalty for his neglect, or loses it through the summary interposition of the law in its desire to have a _finis litium_. But no such scruples troubled the mind of early Roman society. Their ancient usages directly took away the ownership of everybody who had been out of possession, under certain circumstances, during one or two years. What was the exact tenor of the rule of Usucapion in its earliest shape, it is not easy to say; but, taken with the limitations which we find attending it in the books, it was a most useful security against the mischiefs of a too cumbrous system of conveyance. In order to have the benefit of Usucapion, it was necessary that the adverse possession should have begun in good faith, that is, with belief on the part of the possessor that he was lawfully acquiring the property, and it was farther required that the commodity should have been transferred to him by some mode of alienation which, however unequal to conferring a complete title in the particular case, was at least recognised by the law. In the case therefore of a Mancipation, however slovenly the performance might have been, yet if it had been carried so far as to involve a Tradition or Delivery, the vice of the title would be cured by Usucapion in two years at most. I know nothing in the practice of the Romans which testifies so strongly to their legal genius as the use which they made of Usucapion. The difficulties which beset them were nearly the same with those which embarrassed and still embarrass the lawyers of England. Owing to the complexity of their system, which as yet they had neither the courage nor the power to reconstruct, actual right was constantly getting divorced from technical right, the equitable ownership from the legal. But Usucapion, as manipulated by the jurisconsults, supplied a self-acting machinery, by which the defects of titles to property were always in course of being cured, and by which the ownerships that were temporarily separated were again rapidly cemented together with the briefest possible delay. Usucapion did not lose its advantages till the reforms of Justinian. But as soon as law and equity had been completely fused, and when Mancipation ceased to be the Roman conveyance, there was no further necessity for the ancient contrivance, and Usucapion, with its periods of time considerably lengthened, became the Prescription which has at length been adopted by nearly all systems of modern law. I pass by with brief mention another expedient having the same object with the last, which, though it did not immediately make its appearance in English legal history, was of immemorial antiquity in Roman law; such indeed is its apparent age that some German civilians, not sufficiently aware of the light thrown on the subject by the analogies of English law, have thought it even older than the Mancipation. I speak of the Cessio in Jure, a collusive recovery, in a Court of law, of property sought to be conveyed. The plaintiff claimed the subject of this proceeding with the ordinary forms of a litigation; the defendant made default; and the commodity was of course adjudged to the plaintiff. I need scarcely remind the English lawyer that this expedient suggested itself to our forefathers, and produced those famous Fines and Recoveries which did so much to undo the harshest trammels of the feudal land-law. The Roman and English contrivances have very much in common and illustrate each other most instructively, but there is this difference between them, that the object of the English lawyers was to remove complications already introduced into the title, while the Roman jurisconsults sought to prevent them by substituting a mode of transfer necessarily unimpeachable for one which too often miscarried. The device is, in fact, one which suggests itself as soon as Courts of Law are in steady operation, but are nevertheless still under the empire of primitive notions. In an advanced state of legal opinion, tribunals regard collusive litigation as an abuse of their procedure; but there has always been a time when, if their forms were scrupulously complied with, they never dreamed of looking further. The influence of Courts of Law and of their procedure upon Property has been most extensive, but the subject is too large for the dimensions of this treatise, and would carry us further down the course of legal history than is consistent with its scheme. It is desirable, however, to mention, that to this influence we must attribute the importance of the distinction between Property and Possession--not, indeed, the distinction itself, which (in the language of an eminent English civilian) is the same thing as the distinction between the legal right to act upon a thing and the physical power to do so--but the extraordinary importance which the distinction has obtained in the philosophy of law. Few educated persons are so little versed in legal literature as not to have heard that the language of the Roman jurisconsults on the subject of Possession long occasioned the greatest possible perplexity, and that the genius of Savigny is supposed to have chiefly proved itself by the solution which he discovered for the enigma. Possession, in fact, when employed by the Roman lawyers, appears to have contracted a shade of meaning not easily accounted for. The word, as appears from its etymology, must have originally denoted physical contact or physical contact resumeable at pleasure; but, as actually used without any qualifying epithet, it signifies not simply physical detention, but physical detention coupled with the intention to hold the thing detained as one's own. Savigny, following Niebuhr, perceived that for this anomaly there could only be a historical origin. He pointed out that the Patrician burghers of Rome, who had become tenants of the greatest part of the public domain at nominal rents, were, in the view of the old Roman law, mere possessors, but then they were possessors intending to keep their land against all comers. They, in truth, put forward a claim almost identical with that which has recently been advanced in England by the lessees of Church lands. Admitting that in theory they were the tenants-at-will of the state, they contended that time and undisturbed enjoyment had ripened their holding into a species of ownership, and that it would be unjust to eject them for the purpose of redistributing the domain. The association of this claim with the Patrician tenancies, permanently influenced the sense of "possession." Meanwhile the only legal remedies of which the tenants could avail themselves, if ejected or threatened with disturbance, were the Possessory Interdicts, summary processes of Roman law which were either expressly devised by the Prætor for their protection, or else, according to another theory, had in older times been employed for the provisional maintenance of possessions pending the settlement of questions of legal right. It came, therefore, to be understood that everybody who possessed property _as his own_ had the power of demanding the Interdicts, and, by a system of highly artificial pleading, the Interdictal process was moulded into a shape fitted for the trial of conflicting claims to a disputed possession. Then commenced a movement which, as Mr. John Austin pointed out, exactly reproduced itself in English law. Proprietors, _domini_, began to prefer the simpler forms or speedier course of the Interdict to the lagging and intricate formalities of the Real Action, and for the purpose of availing themselves of the possessory remedy fell back upon the possession which was supposed to be involved in their proprietorship. The liberty conceded to persons who were not true Possessors, but Owners, to vindicate their rights by possessory remedies, though it may have been at first a boon, had ultimately the effect of seriously deteriorating both English and Roman jurisprudence. The Roman law owes to it those subtleties on the subject of Possession which have done so much to discredit it, while English law, after the actions which it appropriated to the recovery of real property had fallen into the most hopeless confusion, got rid at last of the whole tangled mass by a heroic remedy. No one can doubt that the virtual abolition of the English real actions which took place nearly thirty years since was a public benefit, but still persons sensitive to the harmonies of jurisprudence will lament that, instead of cleansing, improving, and simplifying the true proprietary actions, we sacrificed them all to the possessory action of ejectment, thus basing our whole system of land recovery upon a legal fiction. Legal tribunals have also powerfully assisted to shape and modify conceptions of proprietary right by means of the distinction between Law and Equity, which always makes its first appearance as a distinction between jurisdictions. Equitable property in England is simply property held under the jurisdiction of the Court of Chancery. At Rome, the Prætor's Edict introduced its novel principles in the guise of a promise that under certain circumstances a particular action or a particular plea would be granted; and, accordingly, the property _in bonis_, or Equitable Property, of Roman law was property exclusively protected by remedies which had their source in the Edict. The mechanism by which equitable rights were saved from being overridden by the claims of the legal owner was somewhat different in the two systems. With us their independence is secured by the Injunction of the Court of Chancery. Since however Law and Equity, while not as yet consolidated, were administered under the Roman system by the same Court, nothing like the Injunction was required, and the Magistrate took the simpler course of refusing to grant to the Civil Law Owner those actions and pleas by which alone he could obtain the property that belonged in equity to another. But the practical operation of both systems was nearly the same. Both, by means of a distinction in procedure, were able to preserve new forms of property in a sort of provisional existence, until the time should come when they were recognised by the whole law. In this way, the Roman Prætor gave an immediate right of property to the person who had acquired a Res Mancipi by mere delivery, without waiting for the ripening of Usucapion. Similarly he in time recognised an ownership in the Mortgagee who had at first been a mere "bailee" or depositary, and in the Emphyteuta, or tenant of land which was subject to a fixed perpetual rent. Following a parallel line of progress, the English Court of Chancery created a special proprietorship for the Mortgagor, for the Cestui que Trust, for the Married Woman who had the advantage of a particular kind of settlement, and for the Purchaser who had not yet acquired a complete legal ownership. All these are examples in which forms of proprietory right, distinctly new, were recognised and preserved. But indirectly Property has been affected in a thousand ways by equity both in England and at Rome. Into whatever corner of jurisprudence its authors pushed the powerful instrument in their command, they were sure to meet, and touch, and more or less materially modify the law of property. When in the preceding pages I have spoken of certain ancient legal distinctions and expedients as having powerfully affected the history of ownership, I must be understood to mean that the greatest part of their influence has arisen from the hints and suggestions of improvement infused by them into the mental atmosphere which was breathed by the fabricators of equitable systems. But to describe the influence of Equity on Ownership would be to write its history down to our own days. I have alluded to it principally because several esteemed contemporary writers have thought that in the Roman severance of Equitable from Legal property we have the clue to that difference in the conception of Ownership, which apparently distinguishes the law of the middle ages from the law of the Roman Empire. The leading characteristic of the feudal conception is its recognition of a double proprietorship, the superior ownership of the lord of the fief co-existing with the inferior property or estate of the tenant. Now, this duplication of proprietary right looks, it is urged, extremely like a generalised form of the Roman distribution of rights over property into _Quiritarian_ or legal, and (to use a word of late origin) _Bonitarian_ or equitable. Gaius himself observes upon the splitting of _dominion_ into two parts as a singularity of Roman law, and expressly contrasts it with the entire or allodial ownership to which other nations were accustomed. Justinian, it is true, re-consolidated dominion into one, but then it was the partially reformed system of the Western Empire, and not Justinian's jurisprudence, with which the barbarians were in contact during so many centuries. While they remained poised on the edge of the Empire, it may well be that they learned this distinction, which afterwards bore remarkable fruit. In favour of this theory, it must at all events be admitted that the element of Roman law in the various bodies of barbarian custom has been very imperfectly examined. The erroneous or insufficient theories which have served to explain Feudalism resemble each other in their tendency to draw off attention from this particular ingredient in its texture. The older investigators, who have been mostly followed in this country, attached an exclusive importance to the circumstances of the turbulent period during which the Feudal system grew to maturity; and in later times a new source of error has been added to those already existing, in that pride of nationality which has led German writers to exaggerate the completeness of the social fabric which their forefathers had built up before their appearance in the Roman world. One or two English inquirers who looked in the right quarter for the foundations of the feudal system, failed nevertheless to conduct their investigations to any satisfactory result, either from searching too exclusively for analogies in the compilations of Justinian, or from confining their attention to the compendia of Roman law which are found appended to some of the extant barbarian codes. But, if Roman jurisprudence had any influence on the barbarous societies, it had probably produced the greatest part of its effects before the legislation of Justinian, and before the preparation of these compendia. It was not the reformed and purified jurisprudence of Justinian, but the undigested system which prevailed in the Western Empire, and which the Eastern _Corpus Juris_ never succeeded in displacing, that I conceive to have clothed with flesh and muscle the scanty skeleton of barbarous usage. The change must be supposed to have taken place before the Germanic tribes had distinctly appropriated, as conquerors, any portion of the Roman dominions, and therefore long before Germanic monarchs had ordered breviaries of Roman law to be drawn up for the use of their Roman subjects. The necessity for some such hypothesis will be felt by everybody who can appreciate the difference between archaic and developed law. Rude as are the _Leges Barbarorum_ which remain to us, they are not rude enough to satisfy the theory of their purely barbarous origin; nor have we any reason for believing that we have received, in written records, more than a fraction of the fixed rules which were practised among themselves by the members of the conquering tribes. If we can once persuade ourselves that a considerable element of debased Roman law already existed in the barbarian systems, we shall have done something to remove a grave difficulty. The German law of the conquerors and the Roman law of their subjects would not have combined if they had not possessed more affinity for each other than refined jurisprudence has usually for the customs of savages. It is extremely likely that the codes of the barbarians, archaic as they seem, are only a compound of true primitive usage with half-understood Roman rules, and that it was the foreign ingredient which enabled them to coalesce with a Roman jurisprudence that had already receded somewhat from the comparative finish which it had acquired under the Western Emperors. But, though all this must be allowed, there are several considerations which render it unlikely that the feudal form of ownership was directly suggested by the Roman duplication of domainial rights. The distinction between legal and equitable property strikes one as a subtlety little likely to be appreciated by barbarians; and, moreover, it can scarcely be understood unless Courts of Law are contemplated in regular operation. But the strongest reason against this theory is the existence in Roman Law of a form of property--a creation of Equity, it is true--which supplies a much simpler explanation of the transition from one set of ideas to the other. This is the Emphyteusis, upon which the Fief of the middle ages has often been fathered, though without much knowledge of the exact share which it had in bringing feudal ownership into the world. The truth is that the Emphyteusis, not probably as yet known by its Greek designation, marks one stage in a current of ideas which led ultimately to feudalism. The first mention in Roman history of estates larger than could be farmed by a Paterfamilias, with his household of sons and slaves, occurs when we come to the holdings of the Roman patricians. These great proprietors appear to have had no idea of any system of farming by free tenants. Their _latifundia_ seem to have been universally cultivated by slave-gangs, under bailiffs who were themselves slaves or freedmen; and the only organisation attempted appears to have consisted in dividing the inferior slaves into small bodies, and making them the _peculium_ of the better and trustier sort, who thus acquired a kind of interest in the efficiency of their labour. This system was, however, especially disadvantageous to one class of estated proprietors, the Municipalities. Functionaries in Italy were changed with the rapidity which often surprises us in the administration of Rome herself; so that the superintendence of a large landed domain by an Italian corporation must have been excessively imperfect. Accordingly, we are told that with the municipalities began the practice of letting out _agri vectigules_, that is, of leasing land for a perpetuity to a free tenant, at a fixed rent, and under certain conditions. The plan was afterwards extensively imitated by individual proprietors, and the tenant, whose relation to the owner had originally been determined by his contract, was subsequently recognised by the Prætor as having himself a qualified proprietorship, which in time became known as an Emphyteusis. From this point the history of tenure parts into two branches. In the course of that long period during which our records of the Roman Empire are most incomplete, the slave-gangs of the great Roman families became transformed into the _coloni_, whose origin and situation constitute one of the obscurest questions in all history. We may suspect that they were formed partly by the elevation of the slaves, and partly by the degradation of the free farmers; and that they prove the richer classes of the Roman Empire to have become aware of the increased value which landed property obtains when the cultivator had an interest in the produce of the land. We know that their servitude was predial; that it wanted many of the characteristics of absolute slavery, and that they acquitted their service to the landlord in rendering to him a fixed portion of the annual crop. We know further that they survived all the mutations of society in the ancient and modern worlds. Though included in the lower courses of the feudal structure, they continued in many countries to render to the landlord precisely the same dues which they had paid to the Roman _dominus_, and from a particular class among them, the _coloni medietarii_ who reserved half the produce for the owner, are descended the _metayer_ tenantry, who still conduct the cultivation of the soil in almost all the South of Europe. On the other hand, the Emphyteusis, if we may so interpret the allusions to it in the _Corpus Juris_, became a favourite and beneficial modification of property; and it may be conjectured that wherever free farmers existed, it was this tenure which regulated their interest in the land. The Prætor, as has been said, treated the Emphyteuta as a true proprietor. When ejected, he was allowed to reinstate himself by a Real Action, the distinctive badge of proprietory right, and he was protected from disturbance by the author of his lease so long as the _canon_, or quit-rent, was punctually paid. But at the same time it must not be supposed that the ownership of the author of the lease was either extinct or dormant. It was kept alive by a power of re-entry on nonpayment of the rent, a right of pre-emption in case of sale, and a certain control over the mode of cultivation. We have, therefore, in the Emphyteusis a striking example of the double ownership which characterised feudal property, and one, moreover, which is much simpler and much more easily imitated than the juxtaposition of legal and equitable rights. The history of the Roman tenure does not end, however, at this point. We have clear evidence that between the great fortresses which, disposed along the line of the Rhine and Danube, long secured the frontier of the Empire against its barbarian neighbours, there extended a succession of strips of land, the _agri limitrophi_, which were occupied by veteran soldiers of the Roman army on the terms of an Emphyteusis. There was a double ownership. The Roman State was landlord of the soil, but the soldiers cultivated it without disturbance so long as they held themselves ready to be called out for military service whenever the state of the border should require it. In fact, a sort of garrison-duty, under a system closely resembling that of the military colonies on the Austro-Turkish border, had taken the place of the quit-rent which was the service of the ordinary Emphyteuta. It seems impossible to doubt that this was the precedent copied by the barbarian monarchs who founded feudalism. It had been within their view for some hundred years, and many of the veterans who guarded the border were, it is to be remembered, themselves of barbarian extraction, who probably spoke the Germanic tongues. Not only does the proximity of so easily followed a model explain whence the Frankish and Lombard Sovereigns got the idea of securing the military service of their followers by granting away portions of their public domain; but it perhaps explains the tendency which immediately showed itself in the Benefices to become hereditary, for an Emphyteusis, though capable of being moulded to the terms of the original contract, nevertheless descended as a general rule to the heirs of the grantee. It is true that the holder of a benefice, and more recently the lord of one of those fiefs into which the benefices were transformed, appears to have owed certain services which were not likely to have been rendered by the military colonist, and were certainly not rendered by the Emphyteuta. The duty of respect and gratitude to the feudal superior, the obligation to assist in endowing his daughter and equipping his son, the liability to his guardianship in minority, and many other similar incidents of tenure, must have been literally borrowed from the relations of Patron and Freedman under Roman law, that is, of quondam-master and quondam-slave. But then it is known that the earliest beneficiaries were the personal companions of the sovereign, and it is indisputable that this position, brilliant as it seems, was at first attended by some shade of servile debasement. The person who ministered to the Sovereign in his Court had given up something of that absolute personal freedom which was the proudest privilege of the allodial proprietor. CHAPTER IX THE EARLY HISTORY OF CONTRACT There are few general propositions concerning the age to which we belong which seem at first sight likely to be received with readier concurrence than the assertion that the society of our day is mainly distinguished from that of preceding generations by the largeness of the sphere which is occupied in it by Contract. Some of the phenomena on which this proposition rests are among those most frequently singled out for notice, for comment, and for eulogy. Not many of us are so unobservant as not to perceive that in innumerable cases where old law fixed a man's social position irreversibly at his birth, modern law allows him to create it for himself by convention; and indeed several of the few exceptions which remain to this rule are constantly denounced with passionate indignation. The point, for instance, which is really debated in the vigorous controversy still carried on upon the subject of negro servitude, is whether the status of the slave does not belong to bygone institutions, and whether the only relation between employer and labourer which commends itself to modern morality be not a relation determined exclusively by contract. The recognition of this difference between past ages and the present enters into the very essence of the most famous contemporary speculations. It is certain that the science of Political Economy, the only department of moral inquiry which has made any considerable progress in our day, would fail to correspond with the facts of life if it were not true that Imperative Law had abandoned the largest part of the field which it once occupied, and had left men to settle rules of conduct for themselves with a liberty never allowed to them till recently. The bias indeed of most persons trained in political economy is to consider the general truth on which their science reposes as entitled to become universal, and, when they apply it as an art, their efforts are ordinarily directed to enlarging the province of Contract and to curtailing that of Imperative Law, except so far as law is necessary to enforce the performance of Contracts. The impulse given by thinkers who are under the influence of these ideas is beginning to be very strongly felt in the Western world. Legislation has nearly confessed its inability to keep pace with the activity of man in discovery, in invention, and in the manipulation of accumulated wealth; and the law even of the least advanced communities tends more and more to become a mere surface-stratum having under it an ever-changing assemblage of contractual rules with which it rarely interferes except to compel compliance with a few fundamental principles or unless it be called in to punish the violation of good faith. Social inquiries, so far as they depend on the consideration of legal phenomena, are in so backward a condition that we need not be surprised at not finding these truths recognised in the commonplaces which pass current concerning the progress of society. These commonplaces answer much more to our prejudices than to our convictions. The strong disinclination of most men to regard morality as advancing seems to be especially powerful when the virtues on which Contract depends are in question, and many of us have almost instinctive reluctance to admitting that good faith and trust in our fellows are more widely diffused than of old, or that there is anything in contemporary manners which parallels the loyalty of the antique world. From time to time, these prepossessions are greatly strengthened by the spectacle of frauds, unheard of before the period at which they were observed, and astonishing from their complication as well as shocking from criminality. But the very character of these frauds shows clearly that, before they became possible, the moral obligations of which they are the breach must have been more than proportionately developed. It is the confidence reposed and deserved by the many which affords facilities for the bad faith of the few, so that, if colossal examples of dishonesty occur, there is no surer conclusion than that scrupulous honesty is displayed in the average of the transactions which, in the particular case, have supplied the delinquent with his opportunity. If we insist on reading the history of morality as reflected in jurisprudence, by turning our eyes not on the law of Contract but on the law of Crime, we must be careful that we read it aright. The only form of dishonesty treated of in the most ancient Roman law is Theft. At the moment at which I write, the newest chapter in the English criminal law is one which attempts to prescribe punishment for the frauds of Trustees. The proper inference from this contrast is not that the primitive Romans practised a higher morality than ourselves. We should rather say that, in the interval between their days and ours, morality has advanced from a very rude to a highly refined conception--from viewing the rights of property as exclusively sacred, to looking upon the rights growing out of the mere unilateral reposal of confidence as entitled to the protection of the penal law. The definite theories of jurists are scarcely nearer the truth in this point than the opinions of the multitude. To begin with the views of the Roman lawyers, we find them inconsistent with the true history of moral and legal progress. One class of contracts, in which the plighted faith of the contracting parties was the only material ingredient, they specifically denominated Contracts _juris gentium_, and though these contracts were undoubtedly the latest born into the Roman system, the expression employed implies, if a definite meaning be extracted from it, that they were more ancient than certain other forms of engagement treated of in Roman law, in which the neglect of a mere technical formality was as fatal to the obligation as misunderstanding or deceit. But then the antiquity to which they were referred was vague, shadowy, and only capable of being understood through the Present; nor was it until the language of the Roman lawyers became the language of an age which had lost the key to their mode of thought that a "Contract of the Law of Nations" came to be distinctly looked upon as a Contract known to man in a State of Nature. Rousseau adopted both the juridical and the popular error. In the Dissertation on the effects of Art and Science upon Morals, the first of his works which attracted attention and the one in which he states most unreservedly the opinions which made him the founder of a sect, the veracity and good faith attributed to the ancient Persians are repeatedly pointed out as traits of primitive innocence which have been gradually obliterated by civilisation; and at a later period he found a basis for all his speculations in the doctrine of an original Social Contract. The Social Contract or Compact is the most systematic form which has ever been assumed by the error we are discussing. It is a theory which, though nursed into importance by political passions, derived all its sap from the speculations of lawyers. True it certainly is that the famous Englishmen, for whom it had first had attraction, valued it chiefly for its political serviceableness, but, as I shall presently attempt to explain, they would never have arrived at it, if politicians had not long conducted their controversies in legal phraseology. Nor were the English authors of the theory blind to that speculative amplitude which recommended it so strongly to the Frenchmen who inherited it from them. Their writings show they perceived that it could be made to account for all social, quite as well as for all political phenomena. They had observed the fact, already striking in their day, that of the positive rules obeyed by men, the greater part were created by Contract, the lesser by Imperative Law. But they were ignorant or careless of the historical relation of these two constituents of jurisprudence. It was for the purpose, therefore, of gratifying their speculative tastes by attributing all jurisprudence to a uniform source, as much as with the view of eluding the doctrines which claimed a divine parentage for Imperative Law, that they devised the theory that all Law had its origin in Contract. In another stage of thought, they would have been satisfied to leave their theory in the condition of an ingenious hypothesis or a convenient verbal formula. But that age was under the dominion of legal superstitions. The State of Nature had been talked about till it had ceased to be regarded as paradoxical, and hence it seemed easy to give a fallacious reality and definiteness to the contractual origin of Law by insisting on the Social Compact as a historical fact. Our own generation has got rid of these erroneous juridical theories, partly by outgrowing the intellectual state to which they belong, and partly by almost ceasing to theorise on such subjects altogether. The favourite occupation of active minds at the present moment, and the one which answers to the speculations of our forefathers on the origin of the social state, is the analysis of society as it exists and moves before our eyes; but, through omitting to call in the assistance of history, this analysis too often degenerates into an idle exercise of curiosity, and is especially apt to incapacitate the inquirer for comprehending states of society which differ considerably from that to which he is accustomed. The mistake of judging the men of other periods by the morality of our own day has its parallel in the mistake of supposing that every wheel and bolt in the modern social machine had its counterpart in more rudimentary societies. Such impressions ramify very widely, and masque themselves very subtly, in historical works written in the modern fashion; but I find the trace of their presence in the domain of jurisprudence in the praise which is frequently bestowed on the little apologue of Montesquieu concerning the Troglodytes, inserted in the _Lettres Persanes_. The Troglodytes were a people who systematically violated their Contracts, and so perished utterly. If the story bears the moral which its author intended, and is employed to expose an anti-social heresy by which this century and the last have been threatened, it is most unexceptionable; but if the inference be obtained from it that society could not possibly hold together without attaching a sacredness to promises and agreements which should be on something like a par with the respect that is paid to them by a mature civilisation, it involves an error so grave as to be fatal to all sound understanding of legal history. The fact is that the Troglodytes have flourished and founded powerful states with very small attention to the obligations of Contract. The point which before all others has to be apprehended in the constitution of primitive societies is that the individual creates for himself few or no rights, and few or no duties. The rules which he obeys are derived first from the station into which he is born, and next from the imperative commands addressed to him by the chief of the household of which he forms part. Such a system leaves the very smallest room for Contract. The members of the same family (for so we may interpret the evidence) are wholly incapable of contracting with each other, and the family is entitled to disregard the engagements by which any one of its subordinate members has attempted to bind it. Family, it is true, may contract with family, chieftain with chieftain, but the transaction is one of the same nature, and encumbered by as many formalities, as the alienation of property, and the disregard of one iota of the performance is fatal to the obligation. The positive duty resulting from one man's reliance on the word of another is among the slowest conquests of advancing civilisation. Neither Ancient Law nor any other source of evidence discloses to us society entirely destitute of the conception of Contract. But the conception, when it first shows itself, is obviously rudimentary. No trustworthy primitive record can be read without perceiving that the habit of mind which induces us to make good a promise is as yet imperfectly developed, and that acts of flagrant perfidy are often mentioned without blame and sometimes described with approbation. In the Homeric literature, for instance, the deceitful cunning of Ulysses appears as a virtue of the same rank with the prudence of Nestor, the constancy of Hector, and the gallantry of Achilles. Ancient law is still more suggestive of the distance which separates the crude form of Contract from its maturity. At first, nothing is seen like the interposition of law to compel the performance of a promise. That which the law arms with its sanctions is not a promise, but a promise accompanied with a solemn ceremonial. Not only are formalities of equal importance with the promise itself, but they are, if anything, of greater importance; for that delicate analysis which mature jurisprudence applies to the conditions of mind under which a particular verbal assent is given appears, in ancient law, to be transferred to the words and gestures of the accompanying performance. No pledge is enforced if a single form be omitted or misplaced, but, on the other hand, if the forms can be shown to have been accurately proceeded with, it is of no avail to plead that the promise was made under duress or deception. The transmutation of this ancient view into the familiar notion of a Contract is plainly seen in the history of jurisprudence. First one or two steps in the ceremonial are dispensed with; then the others are simplified or permitted to be neglected on certain conditions; lastly, a few specific contracts are separated from the rest and allowed to be entered into without form, the selected contracts being those on which the activity and energy of social intercourse depends. Slowly, but most distinctly, the mental engagement isolates itself amid the technicalities, and gradually becomes the sole ingredient on which the interest of the jurisconsult is concentrated. Such a mental engagement, signified through external acts, the Romans called a Pact or Convention; and when the Convention has once been conceived as the nucleus of a Contract, it soon becomes the tendency of advancing jurisprudence to break away the external shell of form and ceremony. Forms are thenceforward only retained so far as they are guarantees of authenticity, and securities for caution and deliberation. The idea of a Contract is fully developed, or, to employ the Roman phrase, Contracts are absorbed in Pacts. The history of this course of change in Roman law is exceedingly instructive. At the earliest dawn of the jurisprudence, the term in use for a Contract was one which is very familiar to the students of historical Latinity. It was _nexum_, and the parties to the contract were said to be _nexi_, expressions which must be carefully attended to on account of the singular durableness of the metaphor on which they are founded. The notion that persons under a contractual engagement are connected together by a strong _bond_ or _chain_, continued till the last to influence the Roman jurisprudence of Contract; and flowing thence it has mixed itself with modern ideas. What then was involved in this nexum or bond? A definition which has descended to us from one of the Latin antiquarians describes _nexum_ as _omne quod geritur per æs et libram_, "every transaction with the copper and the balance," and these words have occasioned a good deal of perplexity. The copper and the balance are the well-known accompaniments of the Mancipation, the ancient solemnity described in a former chapter, by which the right of ownership in the highest form of Roman Property was transferred from one person to another. Mancipation was a _conveyance_, and hence has arisen the difficulty, for the definition thus cited appears to confound Contracts and Conveyances, which in the philosophy of jurisprudence are not simply kept apart, but are actually opposed to each other. The _jus in re_, right _in rem_, right "availing against all the world," or Proprietary Right, is sharply distinguished by the analyst of mature jurisprudence from the _jus ad rem_, right _in personam_, right "availing a single individual or group," or obligation. Now Conveyances transfer Proprietary Rights, Contracts create Obligations--how then can the two be included under the same name or same general conception? This, like many similar embarrassments, has been occasioned by the error of ascribing to the mental condition of an unformed society a faculty which pre-eminently belongs to an advanced stage of intellectual development, the faculty of distinguishing in speculation ideas which are blended in practice. We have indications not to be mistaken of a state of social affairs in which Conveyances and Contracts were practically confounded; nor did the discrepance of the conceptions become perceptible till men had begun to adopt a distinct practice in contracting and conveying. It may here be observed that we know enough of ancient Roman law to give some idea of the mode of transformation followed by legal conceptions and by legal phraseology in the infancy of Jurisprudence. The change which they undergo appears to be a change from general to special; or, as we might otherwise express it, the ancient conceptions and the ancient terms are subjected to a process of gradual specialisation. An ancient legal conception corresponds not to one but to several modern conceptions. An ancient technical expression serves to indicate a variety of things which in modern law have separate names allotted to them. If however we take up the history of Jurisprudence at the next stage, we find that the subordinate conceptions have gradually disengaged themselves and that the old general names are giving way to special appellations. The old general conception is not obliterated, but it has ceased to cover more than one or a few of the notions which it first included. So too the old technical name remains, but it discharges only one of the functions which it once performed. We may exemplify this phenomenon in various ways. Patriarchal Power of all sorts appears, for instance, to have been once conceived as identical in character, and it was doubtless distinguished by one name. The Power exercised by the ancestor was the same whether it was exercised over the family or the material property--over flocks, herds, slaves, children, or wife. We cannot be absolutely certain of its old Roman name, but there is very strong reason for believing, from the number of expressions indicating shades of the notion of _power_ into which the word _manus_ enters, that the ancient general term was _manus_. But, when Roman law has advanced a little, both the name and the idea have become specialised. Power is discriminated, both in word and in conception, according to the object over which it is exerted. Exercised over material commodities or slaves, it has become _dominium_--over children, it is _Potestas_--over free persons whose services have been made away to another by their own ancestor, it is _mancipium_--over a wife, it is still _manus_. The old word, it will be perceived, has not altogether fallen into desuetude, but is confined to one very special exercise of the authority it had formerly denoted. This example will enable us to comprehend the nature of the historical alliance between Contracts and Conveyances. There seems to have been one solemn ceremonial at first for all solemn transactions, and its name at Rome appears to have been _nexum_. Precisely the same forms which were in use when a conveyance of property was effected seem to have been employed in the making of a contract. But we have not very far to move onwards before we come to a period at which the notion of a Contract has disengaged itself from the notion of a Conveyance. A double change has thus taken place. The transaction "with the copper and the balance," when intended to have for its office the transfer of property, is known by the new and special name of Mancipation. The ancient Nexum still designates the same ceremony, but only when it is employed for the special purpose of solemnising a contract. When two or three legal conceptions are spoken of as anciently blended in one, it is not intended to imply that some one of the included notions may not be older than the others, or, when those others have been formed, may not greatly predominate over and take precedence over them. The reason why one legal conception continues so long to cover several conceptions, and one technical phrase to do instead of several, is doubtless that practical changes are accomplished in the law of primitive societies long before men see occasion to notice or name them. Though I have said that Patriarchal Power was not at first distinguished according to the objects over which it was exercised, I feel sure that Power over Children was the root of the old conception of Power; and I cannot doubt that the earliest use of the Nexum, and the one primarily regarded by those who resorted to it, was to give proper solemnity to the alienation of property. It is likely that a very slight perversion of the Nexum from its original functions first gave rise to its employment in Contracts, and that the very slightness of the change long prevented its being appreciated or noticed. The old name remained because men had not become conscious that they wanted a new one; the old notion clung to the mind because nobody had seen reason to be at the pains of examining it. We have had the process clearly exemplified in the history of Testaments. A Will was at first a simple conveyance of property. It was only the enormous practical difference that gradually showed itself between this particular conveyance and all others which caused it to be regarded separately, and even as it was, centuries elapsed before the ameliorators of law cleared away the useless encumbrance of the nominal mancipation, and consented to care for nothing in the Will but the expressed intentions of the Testator. It is unfortunate that we cannot track the early history of Contracts with the same absolute confidence as the early history of Wills, but we are not quite without hints that contracts first showed themselves through the _nexum_ being put to a new use and afterwards obtained recognition as distinct transactions through the important practical consequences of the experiment. There is some, but not very violent, conjecture in the following delineation of the process. Let us conceive a sale for ready money as the normal type of the Nexum. The seller brought the property of which he intended to dispose--a slave, for example--the purchaser attended with the rough ingots of copper which served for money--and an indispensable assistant, the _libripens_, presented himself with a pair of scales. The slave with certain fixed formalities was handed over to the vendee--the copper was weighed by the _libripens_ and passed to the vendor. So long as the business lasted it was a _nexum_, and the parties were _nexi_; but the moment it was completed, the _nexum_ ended, and the vendor and purchaser ceased to bear the name derived from their momentary relation. But now, let us move a step onward in commercial history. Suppose the slave transferred, but the money not paid. In _that_ case, the _nexum_ is finished, so far as the seller is concerned, and when he has once handed over his property, he is no longer _nexus_; but, in regard to the purchaser, the _nexum_ continues. The transaction, as to his part of it, is incomplete, and he is still considered to be _nexus_. It follows, therefore, that the same term described the Conveyance by which the right of property was transmitted, and the personal obligation of the debtor for the unpaid purchase-money. We may still go forward, and picture to ourselves a proceeding wholly formal, in which _nothing_ is handed over and _nothing_ paid; we are brought at once to a transaction indicative of much higher commercial activity, an _executory Contract of Sale_. If it be true that, both in the popular and in the professional view, a _Contract_ was long regarded as an _incomplete Conveyance_, the truth has importance for many reasons. The speculations of the last century concerning mankind in a state of nature, are not unfairly summed up in the doctrine that "in the primitive society property was nothing, and obligation everything;" and it will now be seen that, if the proposition were reversed, it would be nearer the reality. On the other hand, considered historically, the primitive association of Conveyances and Contracts explains something which often strikes the scholar and jurist as singularly enigmatical, I mean the extraordinary and uniform severity of very ancient systems of law to _debtors_, and the extravagant powers which they lodge with _creditors_. When once we understand that the _nexum_ was artificially prolonged to give time to the debtor, we can better comprehend his position in the eye of the public and of the law. His indebtedness was doubtless regarded as an anomaly, and suspense of payment in general as an artifice and a distortion of strict rule. The person who had duly consummated his part in the transaction must, on the contrary, have stood in peculiar favour; and nothing would seem more natural than to arm him with stringent facilities for enforcing the completion of a proceeding which, of strict right, ought never to have been extended or deferred. Nexum, therefore, which originally signified a Conveyance of property, came insensibly to denote a Contract also, and ultimately so constant became the association between this word and the notion of a Contract, that a special term, Mancipium or Mancipatio, had to be used for the purpose of designating the true nexum or transaction in which the property was really transferred. Contracts are therefore now severed from Conveyances, and the first stage in their history is accomplished, but still they are far enough from that epoch of their development when the promise of the contractor has a higher sacredness than the formalities with which it is coupled. In attempting to indicate the character of the changes passed through in this interval, it is necessary to trespass a little on a subject which lies properly beyond the range of these pages, the analysis of Agreement effected by the Roman jurisconsults. Of this analysis, the most beautiful monument of their sagacity, I need not say more than that it is based on the theoretical separation of the Obligation from the Convention or Pact. Bentham and Mr. Austin have laid down that the "two main essentials of a contract are these: first, a signification by the promising party of his _intention_ to do the acts or to observe the forbearances which he promises to do or to observe. Secondly, a signification by the promisee that he _expects_ the promising party will fulfil the proffered promise." This is virtually identical with the doctrine of the Roman lawyers, but then, in their view, the result of these "significations" was not a Contract, but a Convention or Pact. A Pact was the utmost product of the engagements of individuals agreeing among themselves, and it distinctly fell short of a Contract. Whether it ultimately became a Contract depended on the question whether the law annexed an Obligation to it. A Contract was a Pact (or Convention) _plus_ an Obligation. So long as the Pact remained unclothed with the Obligation, it was called _nude_ or _naked_. What was an Obligation? It is defined by the Roman lawyers as "Juris vinculum, quo necessitate adstringimur alicujus solvendæ rei." This definition connects the Obligation with the Nexum through the common metaphor on which they are founded, and shows us with much clearness the pedigree of a peculiar conception. The Obligation is the "bond" or "chain" with which the law joins together persons or groups of persons, in consequence of certain voluntary acts. The acts which have the effect of attracting an Obligation are chiefly those classed under the heads of Contract and Delict, of Agreement and Wrong; but a variety of other acts have a similar consequence which are not capable of being comprised in an exact classification. It is to be remarked, however, that the act does not draw to itself the Obligation in consequence of any moral necessity; it is the law which annexes it in the plenitude of its power, a point the more necessary to be noted, because a different doctrine has sometimes been propounded by modern interpreters of the Civil Law who had moral or metaphysical theories of their own to support. The image of a _vinculum juris_ colours and pervades every part of the Roman law of Contract and Delict. The law bound the parties together, and the _chain_ could only be undone by the process called _solutio_, an expression still figurative, to which our word "payment" is only occasionally and incidentally equivalent. The consistency with which the figurative image was allowed to present itself, explains an otherwise puzzling peculiarity of Roman legal phraseology, the fact that "Obligation" signified rights as well as duties, the right, for example, to have a debt paid as well as the duty of paying it. The Romans kept in fact the entire picture of the "legal chain" before their eyes, and regarded one end of it no more and no less than the other. In the developed Roman law, the Convention, as soon as it was completed, was, in almost all cases, at once crowned with the Obligation, and so became a Contract; and this was the result to which contract-law was surely tending. But for the purpose of this inquiry, we must attend particularly to the intermediate stage--that in which something more than a perfect agreement was required to attract the Obligation. This epoch is synchronous with the period at which the famous Roman classification of Contracts into four sorts--the Verbal, the Literal, the Real, and the Consensual--had come into use, and during which these four orders of Contracts constituted the only descriptions of engagement which the law would enforce. The meaning of the fourfold distribution is readily understood as soon as we apprehend the theory which severed the Obligation from the Convention. Each class of contracts was in fact named from certain formalities which were required over and above the mere agreement of the contracting parties. In the Verbal Contract, as soon as the Convention was effected, a form of words had to be gone through before the vinculum juris was attached to it. In the Literal Contract, an entry in a ledger or table-book had the effect of clothing the Convention with the Obligation, and the same result followed, in the case of the Real Contract, from the delivery of the Res or Thing which was the subject of the preliminary engagement. The contracting parties came, in short, to an understanding in each case; but, if they went no further, they were not _obliged_ to one another, and could not compel performance or ask redress for a breach of faith. But let them comply with certain prescribed formalities, and the Contract was immediately complete, taking its name from the particular form which it had suited them to adopt. The exceptions to this practice will be noticed presently. I have enumerated the four Contracts in their historical order, which order, however, the Roman Institutional writers did not invariably follow. There can be no doubt that the Verbal Contract was the most ancient of the four, and that it is the eldest known descendant of the primitive Nexum. Several species of Verbal Contract were anciently in use, but the most important of all, and the only one treated of by our authorities, was effected by means of a _stipulation_, that is, a Question and Answer; a question addressed by the person who exacted the promise, and an answer given by the person who made it. This question and answer constituted the additional ingredient which, as I have just explained, was demanded by the primitive notion over and above the mere agreement of the persons interested. They formed the agency by which the Obligation was annexed. The old Nexum has now bequeathed to maturer jurisprudence first of all the conception of a chain uniting the contracting parties, and this has become the Obligation. It has further transmitted the notion of a ceremonial accompanying and consecrating the engagement, and this ceremonial has been transmuted into the Stipulation. The conversion of the solemn conveyance, which was the prominent feature of the original Nexum, into a mere question and answer, would be more of a mystery than it is if we had not the analogous history of Roman Testaments to enlighten us. Looking to that history, we can understand how the formal Conveyance was first separated from the part of the proceeding which had immediate reference to the business in hand, and how afterwards it was omitted altogether. As then the question and answer of the Stipulation were unquestionably the Nexum in a simplified shape, we are prepared to find that they long partook of the nature of a technical form. It would be a mistake to consider them as exclusively recommending themselves to the older Roman lawyers through their usefulness in furnishing persons meditating an agreement with an opportunity for consideration and reflection. It is not to be disputed that they had a value of this kind, which was gradually recognised; but there is proof that their function in respect to Contracts was at first formal and ceremonial in the statement of our authorities, that not every question and answer was of old sufficient to constitute a Stipulation, but only a question and answer couched in technical phraseology specially appropriated to the particular occasion. But although it is essential for the proper appreciation of the history of contract-law that the Stipulation should be understood to have been looked upon as a solemn form before it was recognised as a useful security, it would be wrong on the other hand to shut our eyes to its real usefulness. The Verbal Contract, though it had lost much of its ancient importance, survived to the latest period of Roman jurisprudence; and we may take it for granted that no institution of Roman law had so extended a longevity unless it served some practical advantage. I observe in an English writer some expressions of surprise that the Romans even of the earliest times were content with so meagre a protection against haste and irreflection. But on examining the Stipulation closely, and remembering that we have to do with a state of society in which written evidence was not easily procurable, I think we must admit that this Question and Answer, had it been expressly devised to answer the purpose which it served, would have been justly designated a highly ingenious expedient. It was the _promisee_ who, in the character of stipulator, put all the terms of the contract into the form of a question, and the answer was given by the _promisor_. "Do you promise that you will deliver me such and such a slave, at such and such a place, on such and such a day?" "I do promise." Now, if we reflect for a moment, we shall see that this obligation to put the promise interrogatively inverts the natural position of the parties, and, by effectually breaking the tenor of the conversation, prevents the attention from gliding over a dangerous pledge. With us, a verbal promise is, generally speaking, to be gathered exclusively from the words of the promisor. In old Roman law, another step was absolutely required; it was necessary for the promisee, after the agreement had been made, to sum up all its terms in a solemn interrogation; and it was of this interrogation, of course, and of the assent to it, that proof had to be given at the trial--_not_ of the promise, which was not in itself binding. How great a difference this seemingly insignificant peculiarity may make in the phraseology of contract-law is speedily realised by the beginner in Roman jurisprudence, one of whose first stumbling-blocks is almost universally created by it. When we in English have occasion, in mentioning a contract, to connect it for convenience' sake with one of the parties--for example, if we wished to speak generally of a contractor--it is always the _promisor_ at whom our words are pointing. But the general language of Roman law takes a different turn; it always regards the contract, if we may so speak, from the point of view of the _promisee_; in speaking of a party to a contract, it is always the Stipulator, the person who asks the question, who is primarily alluded to. But the serviceableness of the stipulation is most vividly illustrated by referring to the actual examples in the pages of the Latin comic dramatists. If the entire scenes are read down in which these passages occur (ex. gra. Plautus, _Pseudolus_, Act I. sc. i; Act IV. sc. 6; _Trinummus_, Act V. sc. 2), it will be perceived how effectually the attention of the person meditating the promise must have been arrested by the question, and how ample was the opportunity for withdrawal from an improvident undertaking. In the Literal or Written Contract, the formal act, by which an Obligation was superinduced on the Convention, was an entry of the sum due, where it could be specifically ascertained, on the debit side of a ledger. The explanation of this Contract turns on a point of Roman domestic manners, the systematic character and exceeding regularity of bookkeeping in ancient times. There are several minor difficulties of old Roman law, as, for example, the nature of the Slave's Peculium, which are only cleared up when we recollect that a Roman household consisted of a number of persons strictly accountable to its head, and that every single item of domestic receipt and expenditure, after being entered in waste books, was transferred at stated periods to a general household ledger. There are some obscurities, however, in the descriptions we have received of the Literal Contract, the fact being that the habit of keeping books ceased to be universal in later times, and the expression "Literal Contract" came to signify a form of engagement entirely different from that originally understood. We are not, therefore, in a position to say, with respect to the primitive Literal Contract, whether the obligation was created by a simple entry on the part of the creditor, or whether the consent of the debtor or a corresponding entry in his own books was necessary to give it legal effect. The essential point is however established that, in the case of this Contract, all formalities were dispensed with on a condition being complied with. This is another step downwards in the history of contract-law. The Contract which stands next in historical succession, the Real Contract, shows a great advance in ethical conceptions. Whenever any agreement had for its object the delivery of a specific thing--and this is the case with the large majority of simple engagements--the Obligation was drawn down as soon as the delivery had actually taken place. Such a result must have involved a serious innovation on the oldest ideas of Contract; for doubtless, in the primitive times, when a contracting party had neglected to clothe his agreement in a stipulation, nothing done in pursuance of the agreement would be recognised by the law. A person who had paid over money on loan would be unable to sue for its repayment unless he had formally _stipulated_ for it. But, in the Real Contract, performance on one side is allowed to impose a legal duty on the other--evidently on ethical grounds. For the first time then moral considerations appear as an ingredient in Contract-law, and the Real Contract differs from its two predecessors in being founded on these, rather than on respect for technical forms or on deference to Roman domestic habits. We now reach the fourth class, or Consensual Contracts, the most interesting and important of all. Four specified Contracts were distinguished by this name: Mandatum, _i.e._ Commission or Agency; Societas or Partnership; Emtio Venditio or Sale; and Locatio Conductio or Letting and Hiring. A few pages ago, after stating that a Contract consisted of a Pact or Convention to which an Obligation had been superadded, I spoke of certain acts or formalities by which the law permitted the Obligation to be attracted to the Pact. I used this language on account of the advantage of a general expression, but it is not strictly correct unless it be understood to include the negative as well as the positive. For, in truth, the peculiarity of these Consensual Contracts is that _no_ formalities, are required to create them out of the Pact. Much that is indefensible, and much more that is obscure, has been written about the Consensual Contracts, and it has even been asserted that in them the _consent_ of the Parties is more emphatically given than in any other species of agreement. But the term Consensual merely indicates that the Obligation is here annexed at once to the _Consensus_. The Consensus, or mutual assent of the parties, is the final and crowning ingredient in the Convention, and it is the special characteristic of agreements falling under one of the four heads of Sale, Partnership, Agency, and Hiring, that, as soon as the assent of the parties has supplied this ingredient, there is _at once_ a Contract. The Consensus draws with it the Obligation, performing, in transactions of the sort specified, the exact functions which are discharged, in the other contracts, by the _Res_ or Thing, by the _Verba_ stipulationis, and by the _Literæ_ or written entry in a ledger. Consensual is therefore a term which does not involve the slightest anomaly, but is exactly analogous to Real, Verbal, and Literal. In the intercourse of life the commonest and most important of all the contracts are unquestionably the four styled Consensual. The larger part of the collective existence of every community is consumed in transactions of buying and selling, of letting and hiring, of alliances between men for purposes of business, of delegation of business from one man to another; and this is no doubt the consideration which led the Romans, as it has led most societies, to relieve these transactions from technical incumbrance, to abstain as much as possible from clogging the most efficient springs of social movement. Such motives were not of course confined to Rome, and the commerce of the Romans with their neighbours must have given them abundant opportunities for observing that the contracts before us tended everywhere to become _Consensual_, obligatory on the mere signification of mutual assent. Hence, following their usual practice, they distinguished these contracts as contracts _Juris Gentium_. Yet I do not think that they were so named at a very early period. The first notions of a Jus Gentium may have been deposited in the minds of the Roman lawyers long before the appointment of a Prætor Peregrinus, but it would only be through extensive and regular trade that they would be familiarised with the contractual system of other Italian communities, and such a trade would scarcely attain considerable proportions before Italy had been thoroughly pacified, and the supremacy of Rome conclusively assured. Although, however, there is strong probability that the Consensual Contracts were the latest-born into the Roman system, and though it is likely that the qualification, _Juris Gentium_, stamps the recency of their origin, yet this very expression, which attributes them to the "Law of Nations," has in modern times produced the notion of their extreme antiquity. For, when the "Law of Nations" had been converted into the "Law of Nature," it seemed to be implied that the Consensual Contracts were the type of the agreements most congenial to the natural state; and hence arose the singular belief that the younger the civilisation, the simpler must be its forms of contract. The Consensual Contracts, it will be observed, were extremely limited in number. But it cannot be doubted that they constituted the stage in the history of Contract-law from which all modern conceptions of contract took their start. The motion of the will which constitutes agreement was now completely insulated, and became the subject of separate contemplation; forms were entirely eliminated from the notion of contract, and external acts were only regarded as symbols of the internal act of volition. The Consensual Contracts had, moreover, been classed in the Jus Gentium, and it was not long before this classification drew with it the inference that they were the species of agreement which represented the engagements approved of by Nature and included in her code. This point once reached, we are prepared for several celebrated doctrines and distinctions of the Roman lawyers. One of them is the distinction between Natural and Civil Obligations. When a person of full intellectual maturity had deliberately bound himself by an engagement, he was said to be under a _natural obligation_, even though he had omitted some necessary formality, and even though through some technical impediment he was devoid of the formal capacity for making a valid contract. The law (and this is what the distinction implies) would not enforce the obligation, but it did not absolutely refuse to recognise it; and _natural obligations_ differed in many respects from obligations which were merely null and void, more particularly in the circumstance that they could be civilly confirmed, if the capacity for contract were subsequently acquired. Another very peculiar doctrine of the jurisconsults could not have had its origin earlier than the period at which the Convention was severed from the technical ingredients of Contract. They taught that though nothing but a Contract could be the foundation of an _action_, a mere Pact or Convention could be the basis of a _plea_. It followed from this, that though nobody could sue upon an agreement which he had not taken the precaution to mature into a Contract by complying with the proper forms, nevertheless a claim arising out of a valid contract could be rebutted by proving a counter-agreement which had never got beyond the state of a simple convention. An action for the recovery of a debt could be met by showing a mere informal agreement to waive or postpone the payment. The doctrine just stated indicates the hesitation of the Prætors in making their advances towards the greatest of their innovations. Their theory of Natural law must have led them to look with especial favour on the Consensual Contracts and on those Pacts or Conventions of which the Consensual Contracts were only particular instances; but they did not at once venture on extending to all Conventions the liberty of the Consensual Contracts. They took advantage of that special superintendence over procedure which had been confided to them since the first beginnings of Roman law, and, while they still declined to permit a suit to be launched which was not based on a formal contract, they gave full play to their new theory of agreement in directing the ulterior stages of the proceeding. But, when they had proceeded thus far, it was inevitable that they should proceed farther. The revolution of the ancient law of Contract was consummated when the Prætor of some one year announced in his Edict that he would grant equitable actions upon Pacts which had never been matured at all into Contracts, provided only that the Pacts in question had been founded on a consideration (_causa_). Pacts of this sort are always enforced under the advanced Roman jurisprudence. The principle is merely the principle of the Consensual Contract carried to its proper consequence; and, in fact, if the technical language of the Romans had been as plastic as their legal theories, these Pacts enforced by the Prætor would have been styled new Contracts, new Consensual Contracts. Legal phraseology is, however, the part of the law which is the last to alter, and the Pacts equitably enforced continued to be designated simply Prætorian Pacts. It will be remarked that unless there were consideration for the Pact, it would continue _nude_ so far as the new jurisprudence was concerned; in order to give it effect, it would be necessary to convert it by a stipulation into a Verbal Contract. The extreme importance of this history of Contract, as a safeguard against almost innumerable delusions, must be my justification for discussing it at so considerable a length. It gives a complete account of the march of ideas from one great landmark of jurisprudence to another. We begin with Nexum, in which a Contract and a Conveyance are blended, and in which the formalities which accompany the agreement are even more important than the agreement itself. From the Nexum we pass to the Stipulation, which is a simplified form of the older ceremonial. The Literal Contract comes next, and here all formalities are waived, if proof of the agreement can be supplied from the rigid observances of a Roman household. In the Real Contract a moral duty is for the first time recognised, and persons who have joined or acquiesced in the partial performance of an engagement are forbidden to repudiate it on account of defects in form. Lastly, the Consensual Contracts emerge, in which the mental attitude of the contractors is solely regarded, and external circumstances have no title to notice except as evidence of the inward undertaking. It is of course uncertain how far this progress of Roman ideas from a gross to a refined conception exemplifies the necessary progress of human thought on the subject of Contract. The Contract-law of all other ancient societies but the Roman is either too scanty to furnish information, or else is entirely lost; and modern jurisprudence is so thoroughly leavened with the Roman notions that it furnishes us with no contrasts or parallels from which instruction can be gleaned. From the absence, however, of everything violent, marvellous, or unintelligible in the changes I have described, it may be reasonably believed that the history of ancient Roman Contracts is, up to a certain point, typical of the history of this class of legal conceptions in other ancient societies. But it is only up to a certain point that the progress of Roman law can be taken to represent the progress of other systems of jurisprudence. The theory of Natural law is exclusively Roman. The notion of the _vinculum juris_, so far as my knowledge extends, is exclusively Roman. The many peculiarities of the mature Roman law of Contract and Delict which are traceable to these two ideas, whether singly or in combination, are therefore among the exclusive products of one particular society. These later legal conceptions are important, not because they typify the necessary results of advancing thought under all conditions, but because they have exercised perfectly enormous influence on the intellectual diathesis of the modern world. I know nothing more wonderful than the variety of sciences to which Roman law, Roman Contract-law more particularly, has contributed modes of thought, courses of reasoning, and a technical language. Of the subjects which have whetted the intellectual appetite of the moderns, there is scarcely one, except Physics, which has not been filtered through Roman jurisprudence. The science of pure Metaphysics had, indeed, rather a Greek than a Roman parentage, but Politics, Moral Philosophy, and even Theology, found in Roman law not only a vehicle of expression, but a nidus in which some of their profoundest inquiries were nourished into maturity. For the purpose of accounting for this phenomenon, it is not absolutely necessary to discuss the mysterious relation between words and ideas, or to explain how it is that the human mind has never grappled with any subject of thought, unless it has been provided beforehand with a proper store of language and with an apparatus of appropriate logical methods. It is enough to remark, that, when the philosophical interests of the Eastern and Western worlds were separated, the founders of Western thought belonged to a society which spoke Latin and reflected in Latin. But in the Western provinces the only language which retained sufficient precision for philosophical purposes was the language of Roman law, which by a singular fortune had preserved nearly all the purity of the Augustan age, while vernacular Latin was degenerating into a dialect of portentous barbarism. And if Roman jurisprudence supplied the only means of exactness in speech, still more emphatically did it furnish the only means of exactness, subtlety, or depth in thought. For at least three centuries, philosophy and science were without a home in the West; and though metaphysics and metaphysical theology were engrossing the mental energies of multitudes of Roman subjects, the phraseology employed in these ardent inquiries was exclusively Greek, and their theatre was the Eastern half of the Empire. Sometimes, indeed, the conclusions of the Eastern disputants became so important that every man's assent to them, or dissent from them, had to be recorded, and then the West was introduced to the results of Eastern controversy, which it generally acquiesced in without interest and without resistance. Meanwhile, one department of inquiry, difficult enough for the most laborious, deep enough for the most subtle, delicate enough for the most refined, had never lost its attractions for the educated classes of the Western provinces. To the cultivated citizen of Africa, of Spain, of Gaul and of Northern Italy, it was jurisprudence, and jurisprudence only, which stood in the place of poetry and history, of philosophy and science. So far then from there being anything mysterious in the palpably legal complexion of the earliest efforts of Western thought it would rather be astonishing if it had assumed any other hue. I can only express my surprise at the scantiness of the attention which has been given to the difference between Western ideas and Eastern, between Western theology and Eastern, caused by the presence of a new ingredient. It is precisely because the influence of jurisprudence begins to be powerful that the foundation of Constantinople and the subsequent separation of the Western Empire from the Eastern, are epochs in philosophical history. But continental thinkers are doubtless less capable of appreciating the importance of this crisis by the very intimacy with which notions derived from Roman Law are mingled up with every-day ideas. Englishmen, on the other hand, are blind to it through the monstrous ignorance to which they condemn themselves of the most plentiful source of the stream of modern knowledge, of the one intellectual result of the Roman civilisation. At the same time, an Englishman, who will be at the pains to familiarise himself with the classical Roman law, is perhaps, from the very slightness of the interest which his countrymen have hitherto taken in the subject, a better judge than a Frenchman or a German of the value of the assertions I have ventured to make. Anybody who knows what Roman jurisprudence is, as actually practised by the Romans, and who will observe in what characteristics the earliest Western theology and philosophy differ from the phases of thought which preceded them, may be safely left to pronounce what was the new element which had begun to pervade and govern speculation. The part of Roman law which has had most extensive influence on foreign subjects of inquiry has been the law of Obligation, or what comes nearly to the same thing, of Contract and Delict. The Romans themselves were not unaware of the offices which the copious and malleable terminology belonging to this part of their system might be made to discharge, and this is proved by their employment of the peculiar adjunct _quasi_ in such expressions as Quasi-Contract and Quasi-Delict. "Quasi," so used, is exclusively a term of classification. It has been usual with English critics to identify the Quasi-contracts with _implied_ contracts, but this is an error, for implied contracts are true contracts, which quasi-contracts are not. In implied contracts, acts and circumstances are the symbols of the same ingredients which are symbolised, in express contracts, by words; and whether a man employs one set of symbols or the other must be a matter of indifference so far as concerns the theory of agreement. But a Quasi-Contract is not a contract at all. The commonest sample of the class is the relation subsisting between two persons one of whom has paid money to the other through mistake. The law, consulting the interests of morality, imposes an obligation on the receiver to refund, but the very nature of the transaction indicates that it is not a contract, inasmuch as the Convention, the most essential ingredient of Contract, is wanting. This word "quasi," prefixed to a term of Roman law, implies that the conception to which it serves as an index is connected with the conception with which the comparison is instituted by a strong superficial analogy or resemblance. It does not denote that the two conceptions are the same or that they belong to the same genus. On the contrary, it negatives the notion of an identity between them; but it points out that they are sufficiently similar for one to be classed as the sequel to the other, and that the phraseology taken from one department of law may be transferred to the other and employed without violent straining in the statement of rules which would otherwise be imperfectly expressed. It has been shrewdly remarked, that the confusion between Implied Contracts, which are true contracts, and Quasi Contracts, which are not contracts at all, has much in common with the famous error which attributed political rights and duties to an Original Compact between the governed and the governor. Long before this theory had clothed itself in definite shape, the phraseology of Roman contract-law had been largely drawn upon to describe that reciprocity of rights and duties which men had always conceived as existing between sovereigns and subjects. While the world was full of maxims setting forth with the utmost positiveness the claims of kings to implicit obedience--maxims which pretended to have had their origin in the New Testament, but which were really derived from indelible recollections of the Cæsarian despotism--the consciousness of correlative rights possessed by the governed would have been entirely without the means of expression if the Roman law of Obligation had not supplied a language capable of shadowing forth an idea which was as yet imperfectly developed. The antagonism between the privileges of kings and their duties to their subjects was never, I believe, lost sight of since Western history began, but it had interest for few except speculative writers so long as feudalism continued in vigour, for feudalism effectually controlled by express customs the exorbitant theoretical pretensions of most European sovereigns. It is notorious, however, that as soon as the decay of the Feudal System had thrown the mediæval constitutions out of working order, and when the Reformation had discredited the authority of the Pope, the doctrine of the divine right of Kings rose immediately into an importance which had never before attended it. The vogue which it obtained entailed still more constant resort to the phraseology of Roman law, and a controversy which had originally worn a theological aspect assumed more and more the air of a legal disputation. A phenomenon then appeared which has repeatedly shown itself in the history of opinion. Just when the argument for monarchical authority rounded itself into the definite doctrine of Filmer, the phraseology, borrowed from the Law of Contract, which had been used in defence of the rights of subjects, crystallised into the theory of an actual original compact between king and people, a theory which, first in English and afterwards, and more particularly, in French hands, expanded into a comprehensive explanation of all the phenomena of society and law. But the only real connection between political and legal science had consisted in the last giving to the first the benefit of its peculiarly plastic terminology. The Roman jurisprudence of Contract had performed for the relation of sovereign and subject precisely the same service which, in a humbler sphere, it rendered to the relation of persons bound together by an obligation of "quasi-contract." It had furnished a body of words and phrases which approximated with sufficient accuracy to the ideas which then were from time to time forming on the subject of political obligation. The doctrine of an Original Compact can never be put higher than it is placed by Dr. Whewell, when he suggests that, though unsound, "it may be a _convenient_ form for the expression of moral truths." The extensive employment of legal language on political subjects previously to the invention of the Original Compact, and the powerful influence which that assumption has exercised subsequently, amply account for the plentifulness in political science of words and conceptions, which were the exclusive creation of Roman jurisprudence. Of their plentifulness in Moral Philosophy a rather different explanation must be given, inasmuch as ethical writings have laid Roman law under contribution much more directly than political speculations, and their authors have been much more conscious of the extent of their obligation. In speaking of moral philosophy as extraordinarily indebted to Roman jurisprudence, I must be understood to intend moral philosophy as understood previously to the break in its history effected by Kant, that is, as the science of the rules governing human conduct, of their proper interpretation and of the limitations to which they are subject. Since the rise of the Critical Philosophy, moral science has almost wholly lost its older meaning, and, except where it is preserved under a debased form in the casuistry still cultivated by Roman Catholic theologians, it seems to be regarded nearly universally as a branch of ontological inquiry. I do not know that there is a single contemporary English writer, with the exception of Dr. Whewell, who understands moral philosophy as it was understood before it was absorbed by metaphysics and before the groundwork of its rules came to be a more important consideration than the rules themselves. So long, however, as ethical science had to do with the practical regimen of conduct, it was more or less saturated with Roman law. Like all the great subjects of modern thought, it was originally incorporated with theology. The science of Moral Theology, as it was at first called, and as it is still designated by the Roman Catholic divines, was undoubtedly constructed, to the full knowledge of its authors, by taking principles of conduct from the system of the Church, and by using the language and methods of jurisprudence for their expression and expansion. While this process went on, it was inevitable that jurisprudence, though merely intended to be the vehicle of thought, should communicate its colour to the thought itself. The tinge received through contact with legal conceptions is perfectly perceptible in the earliest ethical literature of the modern world, and it is evident, I think, that the Law of Contract, based as it is on the complete reciprocity and indissoluble connection of rights and duties, has acted as a wholesome corrective to the predispositions of writers who, if left to themselves, might have exclusively viewed a moral obligation as the public duty of a citizen in the Civitas Dei. But the amount of Roman Law in moral theology becomes sensibly smaller at the time of its cultivation by the great Spanish moralists. Moral theology, developed by the juridical method of doctor commenting on doctor, provided itself with a phraseology of its own, and Aristotelian peculiarities of reasoning and expression, imbibed doubtless in great part from the Disputations on Morals in the academical schools, take the place of that special turn of thought and speech which can never be mistaken by any person conversant with the Roman law. If the credit of the Spanish school of moral theologians had continued, the juridical ingredient in ethical science would have been insignificant, but the use made of their conclusions by the next generation of Roman Catholic writers on these subjects almost entirely destroyed their influence. Moral Theology, degraded into Casuistry, lost all interest for the leaders of European speculation; and the new science of Moral Philosophy, which was entirely in the hands of the Protestants, swerved greatly aside from the path which the moral theologians had followed. The effect was vastly to increase the influence of Roman law on ethical inquiry. Shortly[5] after the Reformation, we find two great schools of thought dividing this class of subjects between them. The most influential of the two was at first the sect of school known to us as the Casuists, all of them in spiritual communion with the Roman Catholic Church, and nearly all of them affiliated to one or other of her religious orders. On the other side were a body of writers connected with each other by a common intellectual descent from the great author of the treatise _De Jure Belli et Pacis_, Hugo Grotius. Almost all of the latter were adherents of the Reformation, and though it cannot be said that they were formally and avowedly at conflict with the Casuists, the origin and object of their system were nevertheless essentially different from those of Casuistry. It is necessary to call attention to this difference, because it involves the question of the influence of Roman law on that department of thought with which both systems are concerned. The book of Grotius, though it touches questions of pure Ethics in every page, and though it is the parent immediate or remote of innumerable volumes of formal morality, is not, as is well known, a professed treatise on Moral Philosophy; it is an attempt to determine the Law of Nature, or Natural Law. Now, without entering upon the question, whether the conception of a Law Natural be not exclusively a creation of the Roman jurisconsults, we may lay down that, even on the admission of Grotius himself, the dicta of the Roman jurisprudence as to what parts of known positive law must be taken to be parts of the Law of Nature, are, if not infallible, to be received at all events with the profoundest respect. Hence the system of Grotius is implicated with Roman law at its very foundation, and this connection rendered inevitable--what the legal training of the writer would perhaps have entailed without it--the free employment in every paragraph of technical phraseology, and of modes of reasoning, defining, and illustrating, which must sometimes conceal the sense, and almost always the force and cogency, of the argument from the reader who is unfamiliar with the sources whence they have been derived. On the other hand, Casuistry borrows little from Roman law, and the views of morality contended for have nothing whatever in common with the undertaking of Grotius. All that philosophy of right and wrong which has become famous, or infamous, under the name of Casuistry, had its origin in the distinction between Mortal and Venial Sin. A natural anxiety to escape the awful consequences of determining a particular act to be mortally sinful, and a desire, equally intelligible, to assist the Roman Catholic Church in its conflict with Protestantism by disburthening it of an inconvenient theory, were the motives which impelled the authors of the Casuistical philosophy to the invention of an elaborate system of criteria, intended to remove immoral actions, in as many cases as possible, out of the category of mortal offences, and to stamp them as venial sins. The fate of this experiment is matter of ordinary history. We know that the distinctions of Casuistry, by enabling the priesthood to adjust spiritual control to all the varieties of human character, did really confer on it an influence with princes, statesmen, and generals, unheard of in the ages before the Reformation, and did really contribute largely to that great reaction which checked and narrowed the first successes of Protestantism. But beginning in the attempt, not to establish, but to evade--not to discover a principle, but to escape a postulate--not to settle the nature of right and wrong, but to determine what was not wrong of a particular nature,--Casuistry went on with its dexterous refinements till it ended in so attenuating the moral features of actions, and so belying the moral instincts of our being, that at length the conscience of mankind rose suddenly in revolt against it, and consigned to one common ruin the system and its doctors. The blow, long pending, was finally struck in the _Provincial Letters_ of Pascal, and since the appearance of those memorable Papers, no moralist of the smallest influence or credit has ever avowedly conducted his speculations in the footsteps of the Casuists. The whole field of ethical science was thus left at the exclusive command of the writers who followed Grotius; and it still exhibits in an extraordinary degree the traces of that entanglement with Roman law which is sometimes imputed as a fault, and sometimes the highest of its recommendations, to the Grotian theory. Many inquirers since Grotius's day have modified his principles, and many, of course, since the rise of the Critical Philosophy, have quite deserted them; but even those who have departed most widely from his fundamental assumptions have inherited much of his method of statement, of his train of thought, and of his mode of illustration; and these have little meaning and no point to the person ignorant of Roman jurisprudence. I have already said that, with the exception of the physical sciences, there is no walk of knowledge which has been so slightly affected by Roman law as Metaphysics. The reason is that discussion on metaphysical subjects has always been conducted in Greek, first in pure Greek, and afterwards in a dialect of Latin expressly constructed to give expression to Greek conceptions. The modern languages have only been fitted to metaphysical inquiries by adopting this Latin dialect, or by imitating the process which was originally followed in its formation. The source of the phraseology which has been always employed for metaphysical discussion in modern times was the Latin translations of Aristotle, in which, whether derived or not from Arabic versions, the plan of the translator was not to seek for analogous expressions in any part of Latin literature, but to construct anew from Latin roots a set of phrases equal to the expression of Greek philosophical ideas. Over such a process the terminology of Roman law can have exercised little influence; at most, a few Latin law terms in a transmuted shape have made their way into metaphysical language. At the same time it is worthy of remark that whenever the problems of metaphysics are those which have been most strongly agitated in Western Europe, the thought, if not the language, betrays a legal parentage. Few things in the history of speculation are more impressive than the fact that no Greek-speaking people has ever felt itself seriously perplexed by the great question of Free-will and Necessity. I do not pretend to offer any summary explanation of this, but it does not seem an irrelevant suggestion that neither the Greeks, nor any society speaking and thinking in their language, ever showed the smallest capacity for producing a philosophy of law. Legal science is a Roman creation, and the problem of Free-will arises when we contemplate a metaphysical conception under a legal aspect. How came it to be a question whether invariable sequence was identical with necessary connection? I can only say that the tendency of Roman law, which became stronger as it advanced, was to look upon legal consequences as united to legal causes by an inexorable necessity, a tendency most markedly exemplified in the definition of Obligation which I have repeatedly cited, "Juris vinculum quo necessitate adstringimur alicujus solvendæ rei." But the problem of Free-will was theological before it became philosophical, and, if its terms have been affected by jurisprudence, it will be because Jurisprudence had made itself felt in Theology. The great point of inquiry which is here suggested has never been satisfactorily elucidated. What has to be determined, is whether jurisprudence has ever served as the medium through which theological principles have been viewed; whether, by supplying a peculiar language, a peculiar mode of reasoning, and a peculiar solution of many of the problems of life, it has ever opened new channels in which theological speculation could flow out and expand itself. For the purpose of giving an answer it is necessary to recollect what is already agreed upon by the best writers as to the intellectual food which theology first assimilated. It is conceded on all sides that the earliest language of the Christian Church was Greek, and that the problems to which it first addressed itself were those for which Greek philosophy in its later forms had prepared the way. Greek metaphysical literature contained the sole stock of words and ideas out of which the human mind could provide itself with the means of engaging in the profound controversies as to the Divine Persons, the Divine Substance, and the Divine Natures. The Latin language and the meagre Latin philosophy were quite unequal to the undertaking, and accordingly the Western or Latin-speaking provinces of the Empire adopted the conclusions of the East without disputing or reviewing them. "Latin Christianity," says Dean Milman, "accepted the creed which its narrow and barren vocabulary could hardly express in adequate terms. Yet, throughout, the adhesion of Rome and the West was a passive acquiescence in the dogmatic system which had been wrought out by the profounder theology of the Eastern divines, rather than a vigorous and original examination on her part of those mysteries. The Latin Church was the scholar as well as the loyal partizan of Athanasius." But when the separation of East and West became wider, and the Latin-speaking Western Empire began to live with an intellectual life of its own, its deference to the East was all at once exchanged for the agitation of a number of questions entirely foreign to Eastern speculation. "While Greek theology (Milman, _Latin Christianity_, Preface, 5) went on defining with still more exquisite subtlety the Godhead and the nature of Christ"--"while the interminable controversy still lengthened out and cast forth sect after sect from the enfeebled community"--the Western Church threw itself with passionate ardour into a new order of disputes, the same which from those days to this have never lost their interest for any family of mankind at any time included in the Latin communion. The nature of Sin and its transmission by inheritance--the debt owed by man and its vicarious satisfaction--the necessity and sufficiency of the Atonement--above all the apparent antagonism between Free-will and the Divine Providence--these were the points which the West began to debate as ardently as ever the East had discussed the articles of its more special creed. Why is it then that on the two sides of the line which divides the Greek-speaking from the Latin-speaking provinces there lie two classes of theological problems so strikingly different from one another? The historians of the Church have come close upon the solution when they remark that the new problems were more "practical," less absolutely speculative, than those which had torn Eastern Christianity asunder, but none of them, so far as I am aware, has quite reached it. I affirm without hesitation that the difference between the two theological systems is accounted for by the fact that, in passing from the East to the West, theological speculation had passed from a climate of Greek metaphysics to a climate of Roman law. For some centuries before these controversies rose into overwhelming importance, all the intellectual activity of the Western Romans had been expended on jurisprudence exclusively. They had been occupied in applying a peculiar set of principles to all the combinations in which the circumstances of life are capable of being arranged. No foreign pursuit or taste called off their attention from this engrossing occupation, and for carrying it on they possessed a vocabulary as accurate as it was copious, a strict method of reasoning, a stock of general propositions on conduct more or less verified by experience, and a rigid moral philosophy. It was impossible that they should not select from the questions indicated by the Christian records those which had some affinity with the order of speculations to which they were accustomed, and that their manner of dealing with them should borrow something from their forensic habits. Almost everybody who has knowledge enough of Roman law to appreciate the Roman penal system, the Roman theory of the obligations established by Contract or Delict, the Roman view of Debts and of the modes of incurring, extinguishing, and transmitting them, the Roman notion of the continuance of individual existence by Universal Succession, may be trusted to say whence arose the frame of mind to which the problems of Western theology proved so congenial, whence came the phraseology in which these problems were stated, and whence the description of reasoning employed in their solution. It must only be recollected that Roman law which had worked itself into Western thought was neither the archaic system of the ancient city, nor the pruned and curtailed jurisprudence of the Byzantine Emperors; still less, of course, was it the mass of rules, nearly buried in a parasitical overgrowth of modern speculative doctrine, which passes by the name of Modern Civil Law. I speak only of that philosophy of jurisprudence, wrought out by the great juridical thinkers of the Antonine age, which may still be partially reproduced from the Pandects of Justinian, a system to which few faults can be attributed except it perhaps aimed at a higher degree of elegance, certainty, and precision, than human affairs will permit to the limits within which human laws seek to confine them. It is a singular result of that ignorance of Roman law which Englishmen readily confess, and of which they are sometimes not ashamed to boast, that many English writers of note and credit have been led by it to put forward the most untenable of paradoxes concerning the condition of human intellect during the Roman Empire. It has been constantly asserted, as unhesitatingly as if there were no temerity in advancing the proposition, that from the close of the Augustan era to the general awakening of interest on the points of the Christian faith, the mental energies of the civilised world were smitten with a paralysis. Now there are two subjects of thought--the only two perhaps with the exception of physical science--which are able to give employment to all the powers and capacities which the mind possesses. One of them is Metaphysical inquiry, which knows no limits so long as the mind is satisfied to work on itself; the other is Law, which is as extensive as the concerns of mankind. It happens that, during the very period indicated, the Greek-speaking provinces were devoted to one, the Latin-speaking provinces to the other, of these studies. I say nothing of the fruits of speculation in Alexandria and the East, but I confidently affirm that Rome and the West had an occupation in hand fully capable of compensating them for the absence of every other mental exercise, and I add that the results achieved, so far as we know them, were not unworthy of the continuous and exclusive labour bestowed on producing them. Nobody except a professional lawyer is perhaps in a position completely to understand how much of the intellectual strength of individuals Law is capable of absorbing, but a layman has no difficulty in comprehending why it was that an unusual share of the collective intellect of Rome was engrossed by jurisprudence. "The proficiency[6] of a given community in jurisprudence depends in the long run on the same conditions as its progress in any other line of inquiry; and the chief of these are the proportion of the national intellect devoted to it, and the length of time during which it is so devoted. Now, a combination of all the causes, direct and indirect, which contribute to the advancing and perfecting of a science continued to operate on the jurisprudence of Rome through the entire space between the Twelve Tables and the severance of the two Empires,--and that not irregularly or at intervals, but in steadily increasing force and constantly augmenting number. We should reflect that the earliest intellectual exercise to which a young nation devotes itself is the study of its laws. As soon as the mind makes its first conscious efforts towards generalisation, the concerns of every-day life are the first to press for inclusion within general rules and comprehensive formulas. The popularity of the pursuit on which all the energies of the young commonwealth are bent is at the outset unbounded; but it ceases in time. The monopoly of mind by law is broken down. The crowd at the morning audience of the great Roman jurisconsult lessens. The students are counted by hundreds instead of thousands in the English Inns of Court. Art, Literature, Science, and Politics, claim their share of the national intellect; and the practice of jurisprudence is confined within the circle of a profession, never indeed limited or insignificant, but attracted as much by the rewards as by the intrinsic recommendations of their science. This succession of changes exhibited itself even more strikingly at Rome than in England. To the close of the Republic the law was the sole field for all ability except the special talent of a capacity for generalship. But a new stage of intellectual progress began with the Augustan age, as it did with our own Elizabethan era. We all know what were its achievements in poetry and prose; but there are some indications, it should be remarked, that, besides its efflorescence in ornamental literature, it was on the eve of throwing out new aptitudes for conquest in physical science. Here, however, is the point at which the history of mind in the Roman State ceases to be parallel to the routes which mental progress had since then pursued. The brief span of Roman literature, strictly so called, was suddenly closed under a variety of influences, which though they may partially be traced it would be improper in this place to analyse. Ancient intellect was forcibly thrust back into its old courses, and law again became no less exclusively the proper sphere for talent than it had been in the days when the Romans despised philosophy and poetry as the toys of a childish race. Of what nature were the external inducements which, during the Imperial period, tended to draw a man of inherent capacity to the pursuits of the jurisconsult may best be understood by considering the option which was practically before him in his choice of a profession. He might become a teacher of rhetoric, a commander of frontier-posts, or a professional writer of panegyrics. The only other walk of active life which was open to him was the practice of the law. Through _that_ lay the approach to wealth, to fame, to office, to the council-chamber of the monarch--it may be to the very throne itself." The premium on the study of jurisprudence was so enormous that there were schools of law in every part of the Empire, even in the very domain of Metaphysics. But, though the transfer of the seat of empire to Byzantium gave a perceptible impetus to its cultivation in the East, jurisprudence never dethroned the pursuits which there competed with it. Its language was Latin, an exotic dialect in the Eastern half of the Empire. It is only of the West that we can lay down that law was not only the mental food of the ambitious and aspiring, but the sole aliment of all intellectual activity. Greek philosophy had never been more than a transient fashionable taste with the educated class of Rome itself, and when the new Eastern capital had been created, and the Empire subsequently divided into two, the divorce of the Western provinces from Greek speculation, and their exclusive devotion to jurisprudence, became more decided than ever. As soon then as they ceased to sit at the feet of the Greeks and began to ponder out a theology of their own, the theology proved to be permeated with forensic ideas and couched in a forensic phraseology. It is certain that this substratum of law in Western theology lies exceedingly deep. A new set of Greek theories, the Aristotelian philosophy, made their way afterwards into the West and almost entirely buried its indigenous doctrines. But when at the Reformation it partially shook itself free from their influence, it instantly supplied their place with Law. It is difficult to say whether the religious system of Calvin or the religious system of the Arminians has the more markedly legal character. The vast influence of the specific jurisprudence of Contract produced by the Romans upon the corresponding department of modern Law belongs rather to the history of mature jurisprudence than to a treatise like the present. It did not make itself felt till the school of Bologna founded the legal science of modern Europe. But the fact that the Romans, before their Empire fell, had so fully developed the conception of Contract becomes of importance at a much earlier period than this. Feudalism, I have repeatedly asserted, was a compound of archaic barbarian usage with Roman law; no other explanation of it is tenable, or even intelligible. The earliest social forms of the feudal period differ in little from the ordinary associations in which the men of primitive civilisations are everywhere seen united. A Fief was an organically complete brotherhood of associates whose proprietary and personal rights were inextricably blended together. It had much in common with an Indian Village Community and much in common with a Highland clan. But still it presents some phenomena which we never find in the associations which are spontaneously formed by beginners in civilisation. True archaic communities are held together not by express rules, but by sentiment, or, we should perhaps say, by instinct; and new comers into the brotherhood are brought within the range of this instinct by falsely pretending to share in the blood-relationship from which it naturally springs. But the earliest feudal communities were neither bound together by mere sentiment nor recruited by a fiction. The tie which united them was Contract, and they obtained new associates by contracting with them. The relation of the lord to the vassals had originally been settled by express engagement, and a person wishing to engraft himself on the brotherhood by _commendation_ or _infeudation_ came to a distinct understanding as to the conditions on which he was to be admitted. It is therefore the sphere occupied in them by Contract which principally distinguishes the feudal institutions from the unadulterated usages of primitive races. The lord had many of the characteristics of a patriarchal chieftain, but his prerogative was limited by a variety of settled customs traceable to the express conditions which had been agreed upon when the infeudation took place. Hence flow the chief differences which forbid us to class the feudal societies with true archaic communities. They were much more durable and much more various; more durable, because express rules are less destructible than instinctive habits, and more various, because the contracts on which they were founded were adjusted to the minutest circumstances and wishes of the persons who surrendered or granted away their lands. This last consideration may serve to indicate how greatly the vulgar opinions current among us as to the origin of modern society stand in need of revision. It is often said that the irregular and various contour of modern civilisation is due to the exuberant and erratic genius of the Germanic races, and it is often contrasted with the dull routine of the Roman Empire. The truth is that the Empire bequeathed to modern society the legal conception to which all this irregularity is attributable; if the customs and institutions of barbarians have one characteristic more striking than another, it is their extreme uniformity. [5] The passage quoted is transcribed with slight alterations from a paper contributed by the author to the _Cambridge Essays_ for 1856. [6] _Cambridge Essays_, 1856. CHAPTER X THE EARLY HISTORY OF DELICT AND CRIME The Teutonic Codes, including those of our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, are the only bodies of archaic secular law which have come down to us in such a state that we can form an exact notion of their original dimensions. Although the extant fragments of Roman and Hellenic codes suffice to prove to us their general character, there does not remain enough of them for us to be quite sure of their precise magnitude or of the proportion of their parts to each other. But still on the whole all the known collections of ancient law are characterised by a feature which broadly distinguishes them from systems of mature jurisprudence. The proportion of criminal to civil law is exceedingly different. In the German codes, the civil part of the law has trifling dimensions as compared with the criminal. The traditions which speak of the sanguinary penalties inflicted by the code of Draco seem to indicate that it had the same characteristic. In the Twelve Tables alone, produced by a society of greater legal genius and at first of gentler manners, the civil law has something like its modern precedence; but the relative amount of space given to the modes of redressing wrong, though not enormous, appears to have been large. It may be laid down, I think, that the more archaic the code, the fuller and the minuter is its penal legislation. The phenomenon has often been observed, and has been explained, no doubt to a great extent correctly, by the violence habitual to the communities which for the first time reduced their laws to writing. The legislator, it is said, proportioned the divisions of his work to the frequency of a certain class of incidents in barbarian life. I imagine, however, that this account is not quite complete. It should be recollected that the comparative barrenness of civil law in archaic collections is consistent with those other characteristics of ancient jurisprudence which have been discussed in this treatise. Nine-tenths of the civil part of the law practised by civilised societies are made up of the Law of Persons, of the Law of Property and of Inheritance, and of the Law of Contract. But it is plain that all these provinces of jurisprudence must shrink within narrower boundaries, the nearer we make our approaches to the infancy of social brotherhood. The Law of Persons, which is nothing else than the Law of Status, will be restricted to the scantiest limits as long as all forms of status are merged in common subjection to Paternal Power, as long as the Wife has no rights against her Husband, the Son none against his Father, and the infant Ward none against the Agnates who are his Guardians. Similarly, the rules relating to Property and Succession can never be plentiful, so long as land and goods devolve within the family, and, if distributed at all, are distributed inside its circle. But the greatest gap in ancient civil law will always be caused by the absence of Contract, which some archaic codes do not mention at all, while others significantly attest the immaturity of the moral notions on which Contract depends by supplying its place with an elaborate jurisprudence of Oaths. There are no corresponding reasons for the poverty of penal law, and accordingly, even if it be hazardous to pronounce that the childhood of nations is always a period of ungoverned violence, we shall still be able to understand why the modern relation of criminal law to civil should be inverted in ancient codes. I have spoken of primitive jurisprudence as giving to _criminal_ law a priority unknown in a later age. The expression has been used for convenience' sake, but in fact the inspection of ancient codes shows that the law which they exhibit in unusual quantities is not true criminal law. All civilised systems agree in drawing a distinction between offences against the State or Community and offences against the Individual, and the two classes of injuries, thus kept apart, I may here, without pretending that the terms have always been employed consistently in jurisprudence, call Crimes and Wrongs, _crimina_ and _delicta_. Now the penal law of ancient communities is not the law of Crimes; it is the law of Wrongs, or, to use the English technical word, of Torts. The person injured proceeds against the wrong-doer by an ordinary civil action, and recovers compensation in the shape of money-damages if he succeeds. If the Commentaries of Gaius be opened at the place where the writer treats of the penal jurisprudence founded on the Twelve Tables, it will be seen that at the head of the civil wrongs recognised by the Roman law stood _Furtum_ or _Theft_. Offences which we are accustomed to regard exclusively as _crimes_ are exclusively treated as _torts_, and not theft only, but assault and violent robbery, are associated by the jurisconsult with trespass, libel and slander. All alike gave rise to an Obligation or _vinculum juris_, and were all requited by a payment of money. This peculiarity, however, is most strongly brought out in the consolidated Laws of the Germanic tribes. Without an exception, they describe an immense system of money compensations for homicide, and with few exceptions, as large a scheme of compensations for minor injuries. "Under Anglo-Saxon law," writes Mr. Kemble (_Anglo-Saxons_, i. 177), "a sum was placed on the life of every free man, according to his rank, and a corresponding sum on every wound that could be inflicted on his person, for nearly every injury that could be done to his civil rights, honour or peace; the sum being aggravated according to adventitious circumstances." These compositions are evidently regarded as a valuable source of income; highly complex rules regulate the title to them and the responsibility for them; and, as I have already had occasion to state, they often follow a very peculiar line of devolution, if they have not been acquitted at the decease of the person to whom they belong. If therefore the criterion of a _delict_, _wrong_, or _tort_ be that the person who suffers it, and not the State, is conceived to be wronged, it may be asserted that in the infancy of jurisprudence the citizen depends for protection against violence or fraud not on the Law of Crime but on the Law of Tort. Torts then are copiously enlarged upon in primitive jurisprudence. It must be added that Sins are known to it also. Of the Teutonic codes it is almost unnecessary to make this assertion, because those codes, in the form in which we have received them, were compiled or recast by Christian legislators. But it is also true that non-Christian bodies of archaic law entail penal consequences on certain classes of acts and on certain classes of omissions, as being violations of divine prescriptions and commands. The law administered at Athens by the Senate of Areopagus was probably a special religious code, and at Rome, apparently from a very early period, the Pontifical jurisprudence punished adultery, sacrilege and perhaps murder. There were therefore in the Athenian and in the Roman States laws punishing _sins_. There were also laws punishing _torts_. The conception of offence against God produced the first class of ordinances; the conception of offence against one's neighbour produced the second; but the idea of offence against the State or aggregate community did not at first produce a true criminal jurisprudence. Yet it is not to be supposed that a conception so simple and elementary as that of wrong done to the State was wanting in any primitive society. It seems rather that the very distinctness with which this conception is realised is the true cause which at first prevents the growth of a criminal law. At all events, when the Roman community conceived itself to be injured, the analogy of a personal wrong received was carried out to its consequences with absolute literalness, and the State avenged itself by a single act on the individual wrong-doer. The result was that, in the infancy of the commonwealth, every offence vitally touching its security or its interests was punished by a separate enactment of the legislature. And this is the earliest conception of a _crimen_ or Crime--an act involving such high issues that the State, instead of leaving its cognisance to the civil tribunal or the religious court, directed a special law or _privilegium_ against the perpetrator. Every indictment therefore took the form of a bill of pains and penalties, and the trial of a _criminal_ was a proceeding wholly extraordinary, wholly irregular, wholly independent of settled rules and fixed conditions. Consequently, both for the reason that the tribunal dispensing justice was the sovereign state itself and also for the reason that no classification of the acts prescribed or forbidden was possible, there was not at this epoch any _Law_ of crimes, any criminal jurisprudence. The procedure was identical with the forms of passing an ordinary statute; it was set in motion by the same persons and conducted with precisely the same solemnities. And it is to be observed that, when a regular criminal law with an apparatus of Courts and officers for its administration had afterwards come into being, the old procedure, as might be supposed from its conformity with theory, still in strictness remained practicable; and, much as resort to such an expedient was discredited, the people of Rome always retained the power of punishing by a special law offences against its majesty. The classical scholar does not require to be reminded that in exactly the same manner the Athenian Bill of Pains and Penalties, or [Greek: eisangelia], survived the establishment of regular tribunals. It is known too that when the freemen of the Teutonic races assembled for legislation, they also claimed authority to punish offences of peculiar blackness or perpetrated by criminals of exalted station. Of this nature was the criminal jurisdiction of the Anglo-Saxon Witenagemot. It may be thought that the difference which I have asserted to exist between the ancient and modern view of penal law has only a verbal existence. The community, it may be said, besides interposing to punish crimes legislatively, has from the earliest times interfered by its tribunals to compel the wrong-doer to compound for his wrong, and, if it does this, it must always have supposed that in some way it was injured through his offence. But, however rigorous this inference may seem to us now-a-days, it is very doubtful whether it was actually drawn by the men of primitive antiquity. How little the notion of injury to the community had to do with the earliest interferences of the State _through its tribunals_, is shown by the curious circumstances that in the original administration of justice, the proceedings were a close imitation of the series of acts which were likely to be gone through in private life by persons who were disputing, but who afterwards suffered their quarrel to be appeased. The magistrate carefully simulated the demeanour of a private arbitrator casually called in. In order to show that this statement is not a mere fanciful conceit, I will produce the evidence on which it rests. Very far the most ancient judicial proceeding known to us is the Legis Actio Sacramenti of the Romans, out of which all the later Roman Law of Actions may be proved to have grown. Gaius carefully describes its ceremonial. Unmeaning and grotesque as it appears at first sight, a little attention enables us to decipher and interpret it. The subject of litigation is supposed to be in Court. If it is moveable, it is actually there. If it be immoveable, a fragment or sample of it is brought in its place; land, for instance, is represented by a clod, a house by a single brick. In the example selected by Gaius, the suit is for a slave. The proceeding begins by the plaintiff's advancing with a rod, which, as Gaius expressly tells, symbolised a spear. He lays hold of the slave and asserts a right to him with the words, "_Hunc ego hominem ex Jure Quiritium meum esse dico secundum suam causam sicut dixi_;" and then saying, "_Ecce tibi Vindictam imposui_," he touches him with the spear. The defendant goes through the same series of acts and gestures. On this the Prætor intervenes, and bids the litigants relax their hold, "_Mittite ambo hominem_." They obey, and the plaintiff demands from the defendant the reason of his interference, "_Postulo anne dicas quâ ex causâ vindicaveris_," a question which is replied to by a fresh assertion of right, "_Jus peregi sicut vindictam imposui_." On this, the first claimant offers to stake a sum of money, called a Sacramentum, on the justice of his own case, "_Quando tu injuriâ provocasti, D æris Sacramento te provoco_," and the defendant, in the phrase "_Similiter ego te_," accepts the wager. The subsequent proceedings were no longer of a formal kind, but it is to be observed that the Prætor took security for the Sacramentum, which always went into the coffers of the State. Such was the necessary preface of every ancient Roman suit. It is impossible, I think, to refuse assent to the suggestion of those who see in it a dramatisation of the Origin of Justice. Two armed men are wrangling about some disputed property. The Prætor, _vir pietate gravis_, happens to be going by, and interposes to stop the contest. The disputants state their case to him, and agree that he shall arbitrate between them, it being arranged that the loser, besides resigning the subject of the quarrel, shall pay a sum of money to the umpire as remuneration for his trouble and loss of time. This interpretation would be less plausible than it is, were it not that, by a surprising coincidence, the ceremony described by Gaius as the imperative course of proceeding in a Legis Actio is substantially the same with one of the two subjects which the God Hephæstus is described by Homer as moulding into the First Compartment of the Shield of Achilles. In the Homeric trial-scene, the dispute, as if expressly intended to bring out the characteristics of primitive society, is not about property but about the composition for a homicide. One person asserts that he has paid it, the other that he has never received it. The point of detail, however, which stamps the picture as the counterpart of the archaic Roman practice is the reward designed for the judges. Two talents of gold lie in the middle, to be given to him who shall explain the grounds of the decision most to the satisfaction of the audience. The magnitude of this sum as compared with the trifling amount of the Sacramentum seems to me indicative of the indifference between fluctuating usage and usage consolidated into law. The scene introduced by the poet as a striking and characteristic, but still only occasional, feature of city-life in the heroic age has stiffened, at the opening of the history of civil process, into the regular, ordinary formalities of a lawsuit. It is natural therefore that in the Legis Actio the remuneration of the Judge should be reduced to a reasonable sum, and that, instead of being adjudged to one of a number of arbitrators by popular acclamation, it should be paid as a matter of course to the State which the Prætor represents. But that the incidents described so vividly by Homer, and by Gaius with even more than the usual crudity of technical language, have substantially the same meaning, I cannot doubt; and, in confirmation of this view, it may be added that many observers of the earliest judicial usages of modern Europe have remarked that the fines inflicted by Courts on offenders were originally _sacramenta_. The State did not take from the defendant a composition for any wrong supposed to be done to itself, but claimed a share in the compensation awarded to the plaintiff simply as the fair price of its time and trouble. Mr. Kemble expressly assigns this character to the Anglo-Saxon _bannum_ or _fredum_. Ancient law furnishes other proofs that the earliest administrators of justice simulated the probable acts of persons engaged in a private quarrel. In settling the damages to be awarded, they took as their guide the measure of vengeance likely to be exacted by an aggrieved person under the circumstances of the case. This is the true explanation of the very different penalties imposed by ancient law on offenders caught in the act or soon after it and on offenders detected after considerable delay. Some strange exemplifications of this peculiarity are supplied by the old Roman law of Theft. The Laws of the Twelve Tables seem to have divided Thefts into Manifest and Non-Manifest, and to have allotted extraordinarily different penalties to the offence according as it fell under one head or the other. The Manifest Thief was he who was caught within the house in which he had been pilfering, or who was taken while making off to a place of safety with the stolen goods; the Twelve Tables condemned him to be put to death if he were already a slave, and, if he was a freeman, they made him the bondsman of the owner of the property. The Non-Manifest Thief was he who was detected under any other circumstances than those described; and the old code simply directed that an offender of this sort should refund double the value of what he had stolen. In Gaius's day the excessive severity of the Twelve Tables to the Manifest Thief had naturally been much mitigated, but the law still maintained the old principle by mulcting him in fourfold the value of the stolen goods, while the Non-Manifest Thief still continued to pay merely the double. The ancient lawgiver doubtless considered that the injured proprietor, if left to himself, would inflict a very different punishment when his blood was hot from that with which he would be satisfied when the Thief was detected after a considerable interval; and to this calculation the legal scale of penalties was adjusted. The principle is precisely the same as that followed in the Anglo-Saxon and other Germanic codes, when they suffer a thief chased down and caught with the booty to be hanged or decapitated on the spot, while they exact the full penalties of homicide from anybody who kills him after the pursuit has been intermitted. These archaic distinctions bring home to us very forcibly the distance of a refined from a rude jurisprudence. The modern administrator of justice has confessedly one of the hardest tasks before him when he undertakes to discriminate between the degrees of criminality which belong to offences falling within the same technical description. It is always easy to say that a man is guilty of manslaughter, larceny, or bigamy, but it is often most difficult to pronounce what extent of moral guilt he has incurred, and consequently what measure of punishment he has deserved. There is hardly any perplexity in casuistry, or in the analysis of motive, which we may not be called upon to confront, if we attempt to settle such a point with precision; and accordingly the law of our day shows an increasing tendency to abstain as much as possible from laying down positive rules on the subject. In France, the jury is left to decide whether the offence which it finds committed has been attended by extenuating circumstances; in England, a nearly unbounded latitude in the selection of punishments is now allowed to the judge; while all States have in reserve an ultimate remedy for the miscarriages of law in the Prerogative of Pardon, universally lodged with the Chief Magistrate. It is curious to observe how little the men of primitive times were troubled with these scruples, how completely they were persuaded that the impulses of the injured person were the proper measure of the vengeance he was entitled to exact, and how literally they imitated the probable rise and fall of his passions in fixing their scale of punishment. I wish it could be said that their method of legislation is quite extinct. There are, however, several modern systems of law which, in cases of graver wrong, admit the fact of the wrong-doer having been taken in the act to be pleaded in justification of inordinate punishment inflicted on him by the sufferer--an indulgence which, though superficially regarded it may seem intelligible, is based, as it seems to me, on a very low morality. Nothing, I have said, can be simpler than the considerations which ultimately led ancient societies to the formation of a true criminal jurisprudence. The State conceived itself to be wronged, and the Popular Assembly struck straight at the offender with the same movement which accompanied its legislative action. It is further true of the ancient world--though not precisely of the modern, as I shall have occasion to point out--that the earliest criminal tribunals were merely subdivisions, or committees, of the legislature. This, at all events, is the conclusion pointed at by the legal history of the two great states of antiquity, with tolerable clearness in one case, and with absolute distinctness in the other. The primitive penal law of Athens entrusted the castigation of offences partly to the Archons, who seem to have punished them as _torts_, and partly to the Senate of Areopagus, which punished them as _sins_. Both jurisdictions were substantially transferred in the end to the Heliæa, the High Court of Popular Justice, and the functions of the Archons and of the Areopagus became either merely ministerial or quite insignificant. But "Heliæa" is only an old word for Assembly; the Heliæa of classical times was simply the Popular Assembly convened for judicial purposes, and the famous Dikasteries of Athens were only its subdivisions or panels. The corresponding changes which occurred at Rome are still more easily interpreted, because the Romans confined their experiments to the penal law, and did not, like the Athenians, construct popular courts with a civil as well as a criminal jurisdiction. The history of Roman criminal jurisprudence begins with the old Judicia Populi, at which the Kings are said to have presided. These were simply solemn trials of great offenders under legislative forms. It seems, however, that from an early period the Comitia had occasionally delegated its criminal jurisdiction to a Quæstio or Commission, which bore much the same relation to the Assembly as a Committee of the House of Commons bears to the House itself, except that the Roman Commissioners or Quæstores did not merely _report_ to the Comitia, but exercised all powers which that body was itself in the habit of exercising, even to the passing sentence on the Accused. A Quæstio of this sort was only appointed to try a particular offender, but there was nothing to prevent two or three Quæstiones sitting at the same time; and it is probable that several of them were appointed simultaneously, when several grave cases of wrong to the community had occurred together. There are also indications that now and then these Quæstiones approached the character of our _Standing_ Committees, in that they were appointed periodically, and without waiting for occasion to arise in the commission of some serious crime. The old Quæstores Parricidii, who are mentioned in connection with transactions of very ancient date, as being deputed to try (or, as some take it, to search out and try) all cases of parricide and murder, seem to have been appointed regularly every year; and the Duumviri Perduellionis, or Commission of Two for trial of violent injury to the Commonwealth, are also believed by most writers to have been named periodically. The delegations of power to these latter functionaries bring us some way forwards. Instead of being appointed _when and as_ state-offences were committed, they had a general, though a temporary jurisdiction over such as _might_ be perpetrated. Our proximity to a regular criminal jurisprudence is also indicated by the general terms "Parricidium" and "Perduellio" which mark the approach to something like a classification of crimes. The true criminal law did not however come into existence till the year B.C. 149, when L. Calpurnius Piso carried the statute known as the Lex Calpurnia de Repetundis. The law applied to cases Repetundarum Pecuniarum, that is, claims by Provincials to recover monies improperly received by a Governor-General, but the great and permanent importance of this statute arose from its establishing the first Quæstio Perpetua. A Quæstio Perpetua was a _Permanent_ Commission as opposed to those which were occasional and to those which were temporary. It was a regular criminal tribunal whose existence dated from the passing of the statute creating it and continued till another statute should pass abolishing it. Its members were not specially nominated, as were the members of the older Quæstiones, but provision was made in the law constituting it for selecting from particular classes the judges who were to officiate, and for renewing them in conformity with definite rules. The offences of which it took cognisance were also expressly named and defined in this statute, and the new Quæstio had authority to try and sentence all persons in future whose acts should fall under the definitions of crime supplied by the law. It was therefore a regular criminal judicature, administering a true criminal jurisprudence. The primitive history of criminal law divides itself therefore into four stages. Understanding that the conception of _Crime_, as distinguished from that of _Wrong_ or _Tort_ and from that of _Sin_, involves the idea of injury to the State or collective community, we first find that the commonwealth, in literal conformity with the conception, itself interposed directly, and by isolated acts, to avenge itself on the author of the evil which it had suffered. This is the point from which we start; each indictment is now a bill of pains and penalties, a special law naming the criminal and prescribing his punishment. A _second_ step is accomplished, when the multiplicity of crimes compels the legislature to delegate its powers to particular Quæstiones or Commissions, each of which is deputed to investigate a particular accusation, and if it be proved, to punish the particular offender. Yet _another_ movement is made when the legislature, instead of waiting for the alleged commission of a crime as the occasion of appointing a Quæstio, periodically nominates Commissioners like the Quæstores Parricidii and the Duumviri Perduellionis, on the chance of certain classes of crimes being committed, and in the expectation that they _will_ be perpetrated. The _last_ stage is reached when the Quæstiones from being periodical or occasional become permanent Benches or Chambers--when the judges, instead of being named in the particular law nominating the Commission, are directed to be chosen through all future time in a particular way and from a particular class--and when certain acts are described in general language and declared to be crimes, to be visited, in the event of their perpetration, with specified penalties appropriated to each description. If the Quæstiones Perpetuæ had had a longer history, they would doubtless have come to be regarded as a distinct institution, and their relation to the Comitia would have seemed no closer than the connection of our own Courts of Law with the Sovereign, who is theoretically the fountain of justice. But the Imperial despotism destroyed them before their origin had been completely forgotten, and, so long as they lasted, these Permanent Commissions were looked upon by the Romans as the mere depositaries of a delegated power. The cognisance of crimes was considered a natural attribute of the legislature, and the mind of the citizen never ceased to be carried back from the Quæstiones, to the Comitia which had deputed them to put into exercise some of its own inalienable functions. The view which regarded the Quæstiones, even when they became permanent, as mere Committees of the Popular Assembly--as bodies which only ministered to a higher authority--had some important legal consequences which left their mark on the criminal law to the very latest period. One immediate result was that the Comitia continued to exercise criminal jurisdiction by way of bill of pains and penalties, long after the Quæstiones had been established. Though the legislature had consented to delegate its powers for the sake of convenience to bodies external to itself, it did not follow that it surrendered them. The Comitia and the Quæstiones went on trying and punishing offenders side by side; and any unusual outburst of popular indignation was sure, until the extinction of the Republic, to call down upon its object an indictment before the Assembly of the Tribes. One of the most remarkable peculiarities of the institutions of the Republic is also traceable to this dependance of the Quæstiones on the Comitia. The disappearance of the punishment of Death from the penal system of Republican Rome used to be a very favourite topic with the writers of the last century, who were perpetually using it to point some theory of the Roman character or of modern social economy. The reason which can be confidently assigned for it stamps it as purely fortuitous. Of the three forms which the Roman legislature successively assumed, one, it is well known--the Comitia Centuriata--was exclusively taken to represent the State as embodied for military operations. The Assembly of the Centuries, therefore, had all powers which may be supposed to be properly lodged with a General commanding an army, and, among them, it had authority to subject all offenders to the same correction to which a soldier rendered himself liable by breaches of discipline. The Comitia Centuriata could therefore inflict capital punishment. Not so, however, the Comitia Curiata or Comitia Tributa. They were fettered on this point by the sacredness with which the person of a Roman citizen, inside the walls of the city, was invested by religion and law; and, with respect to the last of them, the Comitia Tributa, we know for certain that it became a fixed principle that the Assembly of the Tribes could at most impose a fine. So long as criminal jurisdiction was confined to the legislature, and so long as the assemblies of the centuries and of the Tribes continued to exercise co-ordinate powers, it was easy to prefer indictments for graver crimes before the legislative body which dispensed the heavier penalties; but then it happened that the more democratic assembly, that of the Tribes, almost entirely superseded the others, and became the ordinary legislature of the later Republic. Now the decline of the Republic was exactly the period during which the Quæstiones Perpetuæ were established, so that the statutes creating them were all passed by a legislative assembly which itself could not, at its ordinary sittings, punish a criminal with death. It followed that the Permanent Judicial Commissions, holding a delegated authority, were circumscribed in their attributes and capacities by the limits of the powers residing with the body which deputed them. They could do nothing which the Assembly of the Tribes could not have done; and, as the Assembly could not sentence to death, the Quæstiones were equally incompetent to award capital punishment. The anomaly thus resulting was not viewed in ancient times with anything like the favour which it has attracted among the moderns, and indeed, while it is questionable whether the Roman character was at all the better for it, it is certain that the Roman Constitution was a great deal the worse. Like every other institution which has accompanied the human race down the current of its history, the punishment of death is a necessity of society in certain stages of the civilising process. There is a time when the attempt to dispense with it baulks both of the two great instincts which lie at the root of all penal law. Without it, the community neither feels that it is sufficiently revenged on the criminal, nor thinks that the example of his punishment is adequate to deter others from imitating him. The incompetence of the Roman Tribunals to pass sentence of death led distinctly and directly to those frightful Revolutionary intervals, known as the Proscriptions, during which all law was formally suspended simply because party violence could find no other avenue to the vengeance for which it was thirsting. No cause contributed so powerfully to the decay of political capacity in the Roman people as this periodical abeyance of the laws; and, when it had once been resorted to, we need not hesitate to assert that the ruin of Roman liberty became merely a question of time. If the practice of the Tribunals had afforded an adequate vent for popular passion, the forms of judicial procedure would no doubt have been as flagrantly perverted as with us in the reigns of the later Stuarts, but national character would not have suffered as deeply as it did, nor would the stability of Roman institutions have been as seriously enfeebled. I will mention two more singularities of the Roman Criminal System which were produced by the same theory of judicial authority. They are, the extreme multiplicity of the Roman criminal tribunals, and the capricious and anomalous classification of crimes which characterised Roman penal jurisprudence throughout its entire history. Every _Quæstio_, it has been said, whether Perpetual or otherwise, had its origin in a distinct statute. From the law which created it, it derived its authority; it rigorously observed the limits which its charter prescribed to it, and touched no form of criminality which that charter did not expressly define. As then the statutes which constituted the various Quæstiones were all called forth by particular emergencies, each of them being in fact passed to punish a class of acts which the circumstances of the time rendered particularly odious or particularly dangerous, these enactments made not the slightest reference to each other, and were connected by no common principle. Twenty or thirty different criminal laws were in existence together, with exactly the same number of Quæstiones to administer them; nor was any attempt made during the Republic to fuse these distinct judicial bodies into one, or to give symmetry to the provisions of the statutes which appointed them and defined their duties. The state of the Roman criminal jurisdiction at this period, exhibited some resemblances to the administration of civil remedies in England at the time when the English Courts of Common Law had not as yet introduced those fictitious averments into their writs which enabled them to trespass on each other's peculiar province. Like the Quæstiones, the Courts of Queen's Bench, Common Pleas, and Exchequer were all theoretical emanations from a higher authority, and each entertained a special class of cases supposed to be committed to it by the fountain of its jurisdiction; but then the Roman Quæstiones were many more than three in number, and it was infinitely less easy to discriminate the acts which fell under the cognisance of each Quæstio, than to distinguish between the provinces of the three Courts in Westminster Hall. The difficulty of drawing exact lines between the spheres of the different Quæstiones made the multiplicity of Roman tribunals something more than a mere inconvenience; for we read with astonishment that when it was not immediately clear under what general description a man's alleged offences ranged themselves, he might be indicted at once or successively before several different Commissions, on the chance of some one of them declaring itself competent to convict him; and, although conviction by one Quæstio ousted the jurisdiction of the rest, acquittal by one of them could not be pleaded to an accusation before another. This was directly contrary to the rule of the Roman civil law; and we may be sure that a people so sensitive as the Romans to anomalies (or, as their significant phrase was, to _inelegancies_) in jurisprudence, would not long have tolerated it, had not the melancholy history of the Quæstiones caused them to be regarded much more as temporary weapons in the hands of factions than as permanent institutions for the correction of crime. The Emperors soon abolished this multiplicity and conflict of jurisdiction; but it is remarkable that they did not remove another singularity of the criminal law which stands in close connection with the number of the Courts. The classifications of crimes which are contained even in the Corpus Juris of Justinian are remarkably capricious. Each Quæstio had, in fact, confined itself to the crimes committed to its cognisance by its charter. These crimes, however, were only classed together in the original statute because they happened to call simultaneously for castigation at the moment of passing it. They had not therefore anything necessarily in common; but the fact of their constituting the particular subject-matter of trials before a particular Quæstio impressed itself naturally on the public attention, and so inveterate did the association become between the offences mentioned in the same statute that, even when formal attempts were made by Sylla and by the Emperor Augustus to consolidate the Roman criminal law, the legislator preserved the old grouping. The Statutes of Sylla and Augustus were the foundation of the penal jurisprudence of the Empire, and nothing can be more extraordinary than some of the classifications which they bequeathed to it. I need only give a single example in the fact that _perjury_ was always classed with _cutting and wounding_ and with _poisoning_, no doubt because a law of Sylla, the Lex Cornelia de Sicariis et Veneficis, had given jurisdiction over all these three forms of crime to the same Permanent Commission. It seems too that this capricious grouping of crimes affected the vernacular speech of the Romans. People naturally fell into the habit of designating all the offences enumerated in one law by the first name on the list, which doubtless gave its style to the Law Court deputed to try them all. All the offences tried by the Quæstio De Adulteriis would thus be called Adultery. I have dwelt on the history and characteristics of the Roman Quæstiones because the formation of a criminal jurisprudence is nowhere else so instructively exemplified. The last Quæstiones were added by the Emperor Augustus, and from that time the Romans may be said to have had a tolerably complete criminal law. Concurrently with its growth, the analogous process had gone on, which I have called the conversion of Wrongs into Crimes, for, though the Roman legislature did not extinguish the civil remedy for the more heinous offences, it offered the sufferer a redress which he was sure to prefer. Still, even after Augustus had completed his legislation, several offences continued to be regarded as Wrongs, which modern societies look upon exclusively as Crimes; nor did they become criminally punishable till some late but uncertain date, at which the law began to take notice of a new description of offences called in the Digest _crimina extraordinaria_. These were doubtless a class of acts which the theory of Roman jurisprudence treated merely as wrongs; but the growing sense of the majesty of society revolted from their entailing nothing worse on their perpetrator than the payment of money damages, and accordingly the injured person seems to have been permitted, if he pleased, to pursue them as crimes _extra ordinem_, that is by a mode of redress departing in some respect or other from the ordinary procedure. From the period at which these _crimina extraordinaria_ were first recognised, the list of crimes in the Roman State must have been as long as in any community of the modern world. It is unnecessary to describe with any minuteness the mode of administering criminal justice under the Roman Empire, but it is to be noted that both its theory and practice have had powerful effect on modern society. The Emperors did not immediately abolish the Quæstiones, and at first they committed an extensive criminal jurisdiction to the Senate, in which, however servile it might show itself in fact, the Emperor was no more nominally than a Senator like the rest. But some sort of collateral criminal jurisdiction had been claimed by the Prince from the first; and this, as recollections of the free commonwealth decayed, tended steadily to gain at the expense of the old tribunals. Gradually the punishment of crimes was transferred to magistrates directly nominated by the Emperor and the privileges of the Senate passed to the Imperial Privy Council, which also became a Court of ultimate criminal appeal. Under these influences the doctrine, familiar to the moderns, insensibly shaped itself that the Sovereign is the fountain of all Justice and the depositary of all Grace. It was not so much the fruit of increasing adulation and servility as of the centralisation of the Empire which had by this time perfected itself. The theory of criminal justice had, in fact, worked round almost to the point from which it started. It had begun in the belief that it was the business of the collective community to avenge its own wrongs by its own hand; and it ended in the doctrine that the chastisement of crimes belonged in an especial manner to the Sovereign as representative and mandatary of his people. The new view differed from the old one chiefly in the air of awfulness and majesty which the guardianship of justice appeared to throw around the person of the Sovereign. This later Roman view of the Sovereign's relation to justice certainly assisted in saving modern societies from the necessity of travelling through the series of changes which I have illustrated by the history of the Quæstiones. In the primitive law of almost all the races which have peopled Western Europe there are vestiges of the archaic notion that the punishment of crimes belongs to the general assembly of freemen; and there are some States--Scotland is said to be one of them--in which the parentage of the existing judicature can be traced up to a Committee of the legislative body. But the development of the criminal law was universally hastened by two causes, the memory of the Roman Empire and the influence of the Church. On the one hand traditions of the majesty of the Cæsars, perpetuated by the temporary ascendency of the House of Charlemagne, were surrounding Sovereigns with a prestige which a mere barbarous chieftain could never otherwise have acquired and were communicating to the pettiest feudal potentate the character of guardian of society and representative of the State. On the other hand, the Church, in its anxiety to put a curb on sanguinary ferocity, sought about for authority to punish the graver misdeeds, and found it in those passages of Scripture which speak with approval of the powers of punishment committed to the civil magistrate. The New Testament was appealed to as proving that secular rulers exist for the terror of evildoers; the Old Testament, as laying down that "Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." There can be no doubt, I imagine, that modern ideas on the subject of crime are based upon two assumptions contended for by the Church in the Dark Ages--first, that each feudal ruler, in his degree, might be assimilated to the Roman Magistrates spoken of by Saint Paul; and next, that the offences which he was to chastise were those selected for prohibition in the Mosaic Commandments, or rather such of them as the Church did not reserve to her own cognisance. Heresy (supposed to be included in the First and Second Commandments), Adultery, and Perjury were ecclesiastical offences, and the Church only admitted the co-operation of the secular arm for the purpose of inflicting severer punishment in cases of extraordinary aggravation. At the same time, she taught that murder and robbery with their various modifications were under the jurisdiction of civil rulers, not as an accident of their position but by the express ordinance of God. There is a passage in the writings of King Alfred (Kemble, ii. 209) which brings out into remarkable clearness the struggle of the various ideas that prevailed in his day as to the origin of criminal jurisdiction. It will be seen that Alfred attributes it partly to the authority of the Church and partly to that of the Witan, while he expressly claims for treason against the lord the same immunity from ordinary rules which the Roman Law of Majestas had assigned to treason against the Cæsar. "After this it happened," he writes, "that many nations received the faith of Christ, and there were many synods assembled throughout the earth, and among the English race also after they had received the faith of Christ, both of holy bishops and of their exalted Witan. They then ordained that, out of that mercy which Christ had taught, secular lords, with their leave, might without sin take for every misdeed the _bot_ in money which they ordained; except in cases of treason against a lord, to which they dared not assign any mercy because Almighty God adjudged none to them that despised Him, nor did Christ adjudge any to them which sold Him to death; and He commanded that a lord should be loved like Himself." INDEX Austin, 69, 171; _Province of Jurisprudence Determined_, 4 Ayala, 64 Bentham, 18, 46, 54, 70, 147; _Fragment on Government_, 4 Blackstone, 67, 89, 150, 152 _Cambridge Essays_, 1856, Maine, 205, 212 Capture in war, 145, 146 Casuistry, 205, 206, 207 Charlemagne, 62, 233 Codes, Attic of Solon, 9; era of, 8; first introduced into the West, 10; Hindoo Law of Menu, 10-12; Justinian, 25, 27; Napoléon, 104; Roman, superiority over Hindoo, 10-12; Twelve Tables of Rome, 1, 8, 9, 12, 20 Contract, Austin on, 190; Bentham on, 190; Imperative Law, 182; judicial and popular error, 181; Law of Nations, 181, 196, 197; literal or written, 194; origin lies in the family, 99; pact or convention, 184, 185; real, 195; Roman, classification, 191, 192; consensual, 195-198; Domestic System, 194; Nexum, definition of, 185-189; Rousseau, 181; sale, 188 Conveyances and contracts, confusion between, 185-187; and mancipation, 185 _Corpus juris civilis_, 26 Creditors, powers of, in ancient system, 189 Crimes and wrongs, confusion between, 231, 232; distinction between primitive and modern, 217, 218; Kemble in _Anglo-Saxons_, 218 Criminal Law, Athens, 224; degree of guilt, 223; four stages of primitive history, 226; influence of Church, 233; primitive religious code, 218, 219; Roman, crime against State, 219; B.C. 149, 225; origin of, 225; sentence of death, 227-229; theft, 222, 223; tribunals, 228-230; under emperors, 230-232 Customary Law, epoch of, 7, 8; Hindoo, 4 Dangers of Law, rigidity, too rapid development, 44, 45 Debtors, severity of ancient system, 189 Equity, 172; early history of, 15; Lord Eldon on, 40; English, 40, 41; meaning of, 17; origin, 34, 35; Roman compared with English, 40-42 Feudalism, explanation of, 214 Gaius, 90, 174, 220-223 Grote, decline of kingly rule, 6; _History of Greece_, 3, 5; law administered by aristocracies, 7 Grotius, Hugo, 56, 58, 59, 64; _De Jure Belli et Pacis_, 205 Homer, earliest notions of law derived from, 2, 3; Themis, Themistes, 2-5 Indian (Hindoo) Law, _see_ separate headings Codes, Customary, Primogeniture, Property, Testamentary Law, Village communities Institutional Treatise (Justinian), 27 International Law, 64; and occupancy, 145 Law of Nations (Jus Gentium), incorporation with Roman Law, 36, 37; origin of, 27-31 Legal fictions, benefit of, 77; examples in English Law, 18; in Roman Law, 15, 16; meaning, useful purpose of, 15, 16 Legis Actio Sacramenti, Gaius on, 220, 221 Legislation, the agent of legal improvement, 17; differing from equity, legal fictions, 17, 18 _Lettres Persanes_, 183 Maine, _Cambridge Essays_, 1856, 205, 212 Mancipation, 120, 121, 163-169, 185 Menu, Laws of, 10-12 Montesquieu, 49, 51, 183 Natural Law (Law of Nature), American Law and, 56; antagonistic to historical method, 53; confusing past with present, 43; equality of man, 54-56; equality of sex, 90; feudalism, 62, 65; French history, 47, 48, 50, 53; French Law, 56; Greek interpretation of, 44; Grotian system, 56, 58, 59, 64-66; incorporated with Roman Law, 36, 37; influence of Stoics, 32, 33; Modern International Law, 56-60; most critical period, 50; modern society, 54; occupancy, 145-147, 153; origin of, 31, 32; private property, 164; Rousseau on, 51; slavery, 95; territorial sovereignty, 60-63; Testamentary Law, 103, 104 Occupancy, 144, 145; in Roman Law, 145 Pascal, _Provincial Letters_, 207 Prescriptions, 167, 168; and Canon Law, 168 Primogeniture, Celtic customs, 141, 142; feudal system, 135-137; Hindoo Law, 134, 137, 141; Mahometan Law, 142; Roman Law, 133, 134 Property, natural modes of acquiring, 144 Property Law, ancient Germanic, 165, ancient Sclavonic, 165; descent in Middle Ages, 132; Indian Law, 165; origin of, 145; possession, 170, 172; private, ancient forms of transfer, 160, 162-164; Roman, 60, 66, 166; Cessio in Jure, 170; Edictum Perpetuum, 37; Emphyteusis, 175-178; Gaius on, 174; Justinian, 174; law of persons and things, 152; mancipation, 163, 169; possessory interdicts, 171; Praetor's interdict, 172; Res Mancipi, 160-164, 173; Res Nec Mancipi, 164; system of farming, 176; usucapion, 167, 169, 173 Roman Law, _see_ separate headings Contracts, Criminal, Property, Occupancy, Testamentary; Decemviral Law, 20; definition of inheritance, 107; end of period of jurists, 40; influence of Praetor, 38; intestacy, 127-130; law of inheritance, 111; Leges Corneliae, 24, 25; Leges Juliae, 25; marriage, 91; obligation in, 190, 191, 195, 197; Pandects of Justinian, 39; powers of Praetor, 37, 39; Praetorian edict, 24, 25; Responsa Prudentum, 20, 21, 24; reverence of Romans for, 22; Statute Law, 25; Twelve Tables, 1, 8, 9, 12, 20 Rousseau, on Social Contract, 181 Savigny, 171; on occupancy, 150 Slavery, American opinions of, 96; influence of Law of Nature upon, 97; Roman system, 95-97 Status, definition of, 100 Testamentary Law, adoption and testation, 114, 115; Church's influence upon, 102; corporation, aggregate and sole, 110; Hindoo Law, 113, 114; Hindoo compared with Roman, 113; Law of Nature, 103, 104; Roman Law, 111, 112, 117-123; mancipation, 120, 123; Praetorian testament, 123-125; Twelve Tables, 112, 119, 122; Roman family, agnatic and cognatic relationship, 86-89; duties and rights of father, 85; effects of Christianity, 92; family, the basis of State, 75, 76; kinship, 86, 88; modification of parental privileges, 84; origin of contract in, 99; origin of law of persons, 89; parental powers, 80-82, 88 Theology, and Jurisprudence, 208-210; moral, 204, 205 Theories, based on Roman doctrine, Bentham, 69; Blackstone, 67; differing from Roman Glossators, annotations of, 67; Grotius, 67; Jurisprudence, dissatisfaction with, 70; Locke, 67; Montesquieu, 68; patriarchal, 72-75 Universal succession, 106; in Roman Law, 106, 107 "Universatis Juris," 105 Village communities, Indian, 153, 154, 156, 158; Indian, compared with Roman gens, 155; Indian, Elphinstone, _History of India_, 155, 156; Russian 157 Women, ancient rules defeated by Natural Law, 90; Canon Law, 93; English Common Law, 93, 94; Roman family, 90, 91; gradual independence under Roman Law, 91, 92; Roman, perpetual tutelage of, 90; under Roman Law, 89, 90; subordination to husband in Middle Ages, 92; subordination of Roman to relations, 90 MADE AT THE TEMPLE PRESS LETCHWORTH IN GREAT BRITAIN 35911 ---- Odd People Being a Popular Description of Singular Races of Man By Captain Mayne Reid Published by Ticknor and Fields, Boston. This edition dated 1861. Odd People, by Captain Mayne Reid. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ ODD PEOPLE, BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. CHAPTER ONE. BOSJESMEN, OR BUSHMEN. Perhaps no race of people has more piqued the curiosity of the civilised world than those little yellow savages of South Africa, known as the _Bushmen_. From the first hour in which European nations became acquainted with their existence, a keen interest was excited by the stories told of their peculiar character and habits; and although they have been visited by many travellers, and many descriptions have been given of them, it is but truth to say, that the interest in them has not yet abated, and the Bushmen of Africa are almost as great a curiosity at this hour as they were when Di Gama first doubled the Cape. Indeed, there is no reason why this should not be, for the habits and personal appearance of these savages are just now as they were then, and our familiarity with them is not much greater. Whatever has been added to our knowledge of their character, has tended rather to increase than diminish our curiosity. At first the tales related of them were supposed to be filled with wilful exaggerations, and the early travellers were accused of dealing too much in the marvellous. This is a very common accusation brought against the early travellers; and in some instances it is a just one. But in regard to the accounts given of the Bushmen and their habits there has been far less exaggeration than might be supposed; and the more insight we obtain into their peculiar customs and modes of subsistence, the more do we become satisfied that almost everything alleged of them is true. In fact, it would be difficult for the most inventive genius to contrive a fanciful account, that would be much more curious or interesting than the real and _bona fide_ truth that can be told about this most peculiar people. Where do the Bushmen dwell? what is their country? These are questions not so easily answered, as in reality they are not supposed to possess any country at all, any more than the wild animals amidst which they roam, and upon whom they prey. There is no Bushman's country upon the map, though several spots in Southern Africa have at times received this designation. It is not possible, therefore, to delineate the boundaries of their country, since it has no boundaries, any more than that of the wandering Gypsies of Europe. If the Bushmen, however, have no country in the proper sense of the word, they have a "range," and one of the most extensive character-- since it covers the whole southern portion of the African continent, from the Cape of Good Hope to the twentieth degree of south latitude, extending east and west from the country of the Cafires to the Atlantic Ocean. Until lately it was believed that the Bushman-range did not extend far to the north of the Orange river; but this has proved an erroneous idea. They have recently "turned up" in the land of the Dammaras, and also in the great Kalahari desert, hundreds of miles north from the Orange river and it is not certain that they do not range still nearer to the equatorial line--though it may be remarked that the country in that direction does not favour the supposition, not being of the peculiar nature of a Bushman's country. The Bushman requires a desert for his dwelling-place. It is an absolute necessity of his nature, as it is to the ostrich and many species of animals; and north of the twentieth degree of latitude, South Africa does not appear to be of this character. The heroic Livingstone has dispelled the long-cherished illusion of the Geography about the "_Great-sanded level_" of these interior regions; and, instead, disclosed to the world a fertile land, well watered, and covered with a profuse and luxuriant vegetation. In such a land there will be no Bushmen. The limits we have allowed them, however, are sufficiently large,-- fifteen degrees of latitude, and an equally extensive range from east to west. It must not be supposed, however, that they _populate_ this vast territory. On the contrary, they are only distributed over it _in spots_, in little communities, that have no relationship or connection with one another, but are separated by wide intervals, sometimes of hundreds of miles in extent. It is only in the desert tracts of South Africa that the Bushmen exist,--in the karoos, and treeless, waterless plains--among the barren ridges and rocky defiles--in the ravines formed by the beds of dried-up rivers--in situations so sterile, so remote, so wild and inhospitable as to offer a home to no other human being save the Bushman himself. If we state more particularly the localities where the haunts of the Bushman are to be found, we may specify the barren lands on both sides of the Orange river,--including most of its headwaters, and down to its mouth,--and also the Great Kalahari desert. Through all this extensive region the _kraals_ of the Bushmen may be encountered. At one time they were common enough within the limits of the Cape colony itself, and some half-caste remnants still exist in the more remote districts; but the cruel persecution of the _boers_ has had the effect of extirpating these unfortunate savages; and, like the elephant, the ostrich, and the eland, the true wild Bushman is now only to be met with beyond the frontiers of the colony. About the origin of the Bushmen we can offer no opinion. They are generally considered as a branch of the great Hottentot family; but this theory is far from being an established fact. When South Africa was first discovered and colonised, both Hottentots and Bushmen were found there, differing from each other just as they differ at this day; and though there are some striking points of resemblance between them, there are also points of dissimilarity that are equally as striking, if we regard the two people as one. In personal appearance there is a certain general likeness: that is, both are woolly-haired, and both have a Chinese cast of features, especially in the form and expression of the eye. Their colour too is nearly the same; but, on the other hand, the Hottentots are larger than the Bushmen. It is not in their persons, however, that the most essential points of dissimilarity are to be looked for, but rather in their mental characters; and here we observe distinctions so marked and antithetical, that it is difficult to reconcile them with the fact that these two people are of one race. Whether a different habit of life has produced this distinctive character, or whether _it_ has influenced the habits of life, are questions not easily answered. We only know that a strange anomaly exists--the anomaly of two people being personally alike--that is, possessing physical characteristics that seem to prove them of the same race, while intellectually, as we shall presently see, they have scarce one character in common. The slight resemblance that exists between the languages of the two is not to be regarded as a proof of their common origin. It only shows that they have long lived in juxtaposition, or contiguous to each other; a fact which cannot be denied. In giving a more particular description of the Bushman, it will be seen in what respect he resembles the true Hottentot, and in what he differs from him, both physically and mentally, and this description may now be given. The Bushman is the smallest man with whom we are acquainted; and if the terms "dwarf" and "pigmy" may be applied to any race of human beings, the South-African Bushmen presents the fairest claim to these titles. He stands only 4 feet 6 inches upon his naked soles--never more than 4 feet 9, and not unfrequently is he encountered of still less height-- even so diminutive as 4 feet 2. His wife is of still shorter stature, and this Lilliputian lady is often the mother of children when the crown of her head is just 3 feet 9 inches above the soles of her feet. It has been a very common thing to contradict the assertion that these people are such pigmies in stature, and even Dr Livingstone has done so in his late magnificent work. The doctor states, very jocosely, that they are "not dwarfish--that the specimens brought to Europe have been selected, like costermongers' dogs, for their extreme ugliness." But the doctor forgets that it is but from "the specimens brought to Europe" that the above standard of the Bushman's height has been derived, but from the testimony of numerous travellers--many of them as trustworthy as the doctor himself--from actual measurements made by them upon the spot. It is hardly to be believed that such men as Sparmann and Burchell, Barrow and Lichtenstein, Harris, Campbell, Patterson, and a dozen others that might be mentioned, should all give an erroneous testimony on this subject. These travellers have differed notoriously on other points, but in this they all agree, that a Bushman of five feet in height is a _tall_ man in his tribe. Dr Livingstone speaks of Bushmen "six feet high," and these are the tribes lately discovered living so far north as the Lake Nagami. It is doubtful whether these are Bushmen at all. Indeed, the description given by the doctor, not only of their height and the colour of their skin, but also some hints about their intellectual character, would lead to the belief that he has mistaken some other people for Bushmen. It must be remembered that the experience of this great traveller has been chiefly among the _Bechuana_ tribes, and his knowledge of the Bushman proper does not appear to be either accurate or extensive. No man is expected to know everybody; and amid the profusion of new facts, which the doctor has so liberally laid before the world, it would be strange if a few inaccuracies should not occur. Perhaps we should have more confidence if this was the only one we are enabled to detect; but the doctor also denies that there is anything either terrific or majestic in the "roaring of the lion." Thus speaks he: "The same feeling which has induced the modern painter to caricature the lion has led the sentimentalist to consider the lion's roar as the most terrific of all earthly sounds. We hear of the `majestic roar of the king of beasts.' To talk of the majestic roar of the lion is mere majestic twaddle." The doctor is certainly in error here. Does he suppose that any one is ignorant of the character of the lion's roar? Does he fancy that no one has ever heard it but himself? If it be necessary to go to South Africa to take the true measure of a Bushman, it is not necessary to make that long journey in order to obtain a correct idea of the compass of the lion's voice. We can hear it at home in all its modulations; and any one who has ever visited the Zoological Gardens in Regent's Park--nay, any one who chances to live within half a mile of that magnificent menagerie--will be very much disposed to doubt the correctness of the doctor's assertion. If there be a sound upon the earth above all others "majestic," a noise above all others "terrific," it is certainly the _roar_ of the lion. Ask Albert Terrace and Saint John's Wood! But let us not be too severe upon the doctor. The world is indebted to him much more than to any other modern traveller, and all great men indulge occasionally in the luxury of an eccentric opinion. We have brought the point forward here for a special purpose,--to illustrate a too much neglected truth. Error is not always on the side of _exaggeration_; but is sometimes also found in the opposite extreme of a too-squeamish moderation. We find the learned Professor Lichtenstein ridiculing poor old Hernandez, the natural historian of Mexico, for having given a description of certain fabulous animals--_fabulous_, he terms them, because to him they were odd and unknown. But it turns out that the old author was right, and the _animals exist_! How many similar misconceptions might be recorded of the Buffons, and other closet philosophers--urged, too, with the most bitter zeal! Incredulity carried too far is but another form of credulity. But to return to our proper theme, and complete the portrait of the Bushman. We have given his height. It is in tolerable proportion to his other dimensions. When young, he appears stout enough; but this is only when a mere boy. At the age of sixteen he has reached all the manhood he is ever destined to attain; and then his flesh disappears; his body assumes a meagre outline; his arms and limbs grow thin; the calf disappears from his legs; the plumpness from his cheeks; and altogether he becomes as wretched-looking an object as it is possible to conceive in human shape. Older, his skin grows dry, corrugated, and scaly; his bones protrude; and his knee, elbow, and ankle-joints appear like horny knobs placed at the ends of what more resemble long straight sticks than the arms and limbs of a human being. The colour of this creature may be designated a yellow-brown, though it is not easy to determine it to a shade. The Bushman appears darker than he really is; since his skin serves him for a towel, and every species of dirt that discommodes his fingers he gets rid of by wiping it off on his arms, sides, or breast. The result is, that his whole body is usually coated over with a stratum of grease and filth, which has led to the belief that he regularly anoints himself--a custom common among many savage tribes. This, however, the Bushman does not do: the smearing toilet is merely occasional or accidental, and consists simply in the fat of whatever flesh he has been eating being transferred from his fingers to the cuticle of his body. This is never washed off again--for water never touches the Bushman's hide. Such a use of water is entirely unknown to him, not even for washing his face. Should he have occasion to cleanse his hands--which the handling of gum or some like substance sometimes compels him to do--he performs the operation, not with soap and water, but with the dry dung of cattle or some wild animal. A little rubbing of this upon his skin is all the purification the Bushman believes to be needed. Of course, the dirt darkens his complexion; but he has the vanity at times to brighten it up--not by making it whiter--but rather a brick-red. A little ochreous earth produces the colour he requires; and with this he smears his body all over--not excepting even the crown of his head, and the scant stock of wool that covers it. Bushmen have been washed. It requires some scrubbing, and a plentiful application either of soda or soap, to reach the true skin and bring out the natural colour; but the experiment has been made, and the result proves that the Bushman is not so black as, under ordinary circumstances, he appears. A yellow hue shines through the epidermis, somewhat like the colour of the Chinese, or a European in the worst stage of jaundice--the eye only not having that complexion. Indeed, the features of the Bushman, as well as the Hottentot, bear a strong similarity to those of the Chinese, and the Bushman's eye is essentially of the Mongolian type. His hair, however, is entirely of another character. Instead of being long, straight, and lank, it is short, crisp, and curly,--in reality, wool. Its scantiness is a characteristic; and in this respect the Bushman differs from the woolly-haired tribes both of Africa and Australasia. These generally have "fleeces" in profusion, whereas both Hottentot and Bushman have not enough to half cover their scalps; and between the little knot-like "kinks" there are wide spaces without a single hair upon them. The Bushman's "wool" is naturally black, but red ochre and the sun soon convert the colour into a burnt reddish hue. The Bushman has no beard or other hairy encumbrances. Were they to grow, he would root them out as useless inconveniences. He has a low-bridged nose, with wide flattened nostrils; an eye that appears a mere slit between the eyelids; a pair of high cheek-bones, and a receding forehead. His lips are not thick, as in the negro, and he is furnished with a set of fine white teeth, which, as he grows older, do not decay, but present the singular phenomenon of being regularly worn down to the stumps--as occurs to the teeth of sheep and other ruminant animals. Notwithstanding the small stature of the Bushman, his frame is wiry and capable of great endurance. He is also as agile as an antelope. From the description above given, it will be inferred that the Bushman is no beauty. Neither is the Bushwoman; but, on the contrary, both having passed the period of youth, become absolutely ugly,--the woman, if possible, more so than the man. And yet, strange to say, many of the Bush-girls, when young, have a cast of prettiness almost amounting to beauty. It is difficult to tell in what this beauty consists. Something, perhaps, in the expression of the oblique almond-shaped eye, and the small well-formed mouth and lips, with the shining white teeth. Their limbs, too, at this early age, are often well-rounded; and many of them exhibit forms that might serve as models for a sculptor. Their feet are especially well-shaped, and, in point of size, they are by far the smallest in the world. Had the Chinese ladies been gifted by nature with such little feet, they might have been spared the torture of compressing them. The foot of a Bushwoman rarely measures so much as six inches in length; and full-grown girls have been seen, whose feet, submitted to the test of an actual measurement, proved but a very little over four inches! Intellectually, the Bushman does not rank so low as is generally believed. He has a quick, cheerful mind, that appears ever on the alert,--as may be judged by the constant play of his little piercing black eye,--and though he does not always display much skill in the manufacture of his weapons, he can do so if he pleases. Some tribes construct their bows, arrows, fish-baskets, and other implements and utensils with admirable ingenuity; but in general the Bushman takes no pride in fancy weapons. He prefers having them effective, and to this end he gives proof of his skill in the manufacture of _most deadly poisons_ with which to anoint his arrows. Furthermore, he is ever active and ready for action; and in this his mind is in complete contrast with that of the Hottentot, with whom indolence is a predominant and well-marked characteristic. The Bushman, on the contrary, is always on the _qui vive_; always ready to be doing where there is anything to do; and there is not much opportunity for him to be idle, as he rarely ever knows where the next meal is to come from. The ingenuity which he displays in the capture of various kinds of game,-- far exceeding that of other hunting tribes of Africa,--as also the cunning exhibited by him while engaged in cattle-stealing and other plundering forays, prove an intellectual capacity more than proportioned to his diminutive body; and, in short, in nearly every mental characteristic does he differ from the supposed cognate race--the Hottentot. It would be hardly just to give the Bushman a character for high courage; but, on the other hand, it would be as unjust to charge him with cowardice. Small as he is, he shows plenty of "pluck," and when brought to bay, his motto is, "No surrender." He will fight to the death, discharging his poisoned arrows as long as he is able to bend a bow. Indeed, he has generally been treated to shooting, or clubbing to death, wherever and whenever caught, and he knows nothing of _quarter_. Just as a badger he ends his life,--his last struggle being an attempt to do injury to his assailant. This trait in his character has, no doubt, been strengthened by the inhuman treatment that, for a century, he has been receiving from the brutal boers of the colonial frontier. The costume of the Bushman is of the most primitive character,-- differing only from that worn by our first parents, in that the fig-leaf used by the men is a patch of jackal-skin, and that of the women a sort of fringe or bunch of leather thongs, suspended around the waist by a strap, and hanging down to the knees. It is in reality a little apron of dressed skin; or, to speak more accurately, two of them, one above the other, both cut into narrow strips or thongs, from below the waist downward. Other clothing than this they have none, if we except a little skin _kaross_, or cloak, which is worn over their shoulders;-- that of the women being provided with a bag or hood at the top, that answers the naked "piccaninny" for a nest or cradle. Sandals protect their feet from the sharp stones, and these are of the rudest description,--merely a piece of the thick hide cut a little longer and broader than the soles of the feet, and fastened at the toes and round the ankles by thongs of sinews. An attempt at ornament is displayed in a leathern skullcap, or more commonly a circlet around the head, upon which are sewed a number of "cowries," or small shells of the _Cyprea moneta_. It is difficult to say where these shells are procured,--as they are not the product of the Bushman's country, but are only found on the far shores of the Indian Ocean. Most probably he obtains them by barter, and after they have passed through many hands; but they must cost the Bushman dear, as he sets the highest value upon them. Other ornaments consist of old brass or copper buttons, attached to the little curls of his woolly hair; and, among the women, strings of little pieces of ostrich egg-shells, fashioned to resemble beads; besides a perfect load of leathern bracelets on the arms, and a like profusion of similar circlets on the limbs, often reaching from the knee to the ankle-joint. Red ochre over the face and hair is the fashionable toilette, and a perfumery is obtained by rubbing the skin with the powdered leaves of the "buku" plant, a species of _diosma_. According to a quaint old writer, this causes them to "stink like a poppy," and would be highly objectionable, were it not preferable to the odour which they have without it. They do not _tattoo_, nor yet perforate the ears, lips, or nose,-- practices so common among savage tribes. Some instances of nose-piercing have been observed, with the usual appendage of a piece of wood or porcupine's quill inserted in the septum, but this is a custom rather of the Caffres than Bushmen. Among the latter it is rare. A grand ornament is obtained by smearing the face and head with a shining micaceous paste, which is procured from a cave in one particular part of the Bushman's range; but this, being a "far-fetched" article, is proportionably scarce and dear. It is only a fine belle who can afford to give herself a coat of _blink-slip_,--as this sparkling pigment is called by the colonists. Many of the women, and men as well, carry in their hands the bushy tail of a jackal. The purpose is to fan off the flies, and serve also as a "wipe," to disembarrass their bodies of perspiration when the weather chances to be over hot. The domicile of the Bushman next merits description. It is quite as simple and primitive as his dress, and gives him about equal trouble in its construction. If a cave or cleft can be found in the rocks, of sufficient capacity to admit his own body and those of his family--never a very large one--he builds no house. The cave contents him, be it ever so tight a squeeze. If there be no cave handy, an overhanging rock will answer equally as well. He regards not the open sides, nor the draughts. It is only the rain which he does not relish; and any sort of a shed, that will shelter him from that, will serve him for a dwelling. If neither cave, crevice, nor impending cliff can be found in the neighbourhood, he then resorts to the alternative of housebuilding; and his style of architecture does not differ greatly from that of the orang-outang. A bush is chosen that grows near to two or three others,--the branches of all meeting in a common centre. Of these branches the builder takes advantage, fastening them together at the ends, and wattling some into the others. Over this framework a quantity of grass is scattered in such a fashion as to cast off a good shower of rain, and then the "carcass" of the building is considered complete. The inside work remains yet to be done, and that is next set about. A large roundish or oblong hole is scraped out in the middle of the floor. It is made wide enough and deep enough to hold the bodies of three or four Bush-people, though a single large Caffre or Dutchman would scarcely find room in it. Into this hole is flung a quantity of dry grass, and arranged so as to present the appearance of a gigantic nest. This nest, or lair, becomes the bed of the Bushman, his wife, or wives,--for he frequently keeps two,--and the other members of his family. Coiled together like monkeys, and covered with their skin karosses, they all sleep in it,--whether "sweetly" or "soundly," I shall not take upon me to determine. It is supposed to be this fashion of literally "sleeping in the bush," as also the mode by which he skulks and hides among bushes,--invariably taking to them when pursued,--that has given origin to the name Bushman, or _Bosjesman_, as it is in the language of the colonial Dutch. This derivation is probable enough, and no better has been offered. The Bushman sometimes constructs himself a more elaborate dwelling; that is, some Bushmen;--for it should be remarked that there are a great many tribes or communities of these people, and they are not all so very low in the scale of civilisation. None, however, ever arrive at the building of a house,--not even a hut. A tent is their highest effort in the building line, and that is of the rudest description, scarce deserving the name. Its covering is a mat, which they weave out of a species of rush that grows along some of the desert streams; and in the fabrication of the covering they display far more ingenuity than in the planning or construction of the tent itself. The mat, in fact, is simply laid over two poles, that are bent into the form of an arch, by having both ends stuck into the ground. A second piece of matting closes up one end; and the other, left open, serves for the entrance. As a door is not deemed necessary, no further construction is required, and the tent is "pitched" complete. It only remains to scoop out the sand, and make the _nest_ as already described. It is said that the Goths drew their ideas of architecture from the aisles of the oak forest; the Chinese from their Mongolian tents; and the Egyptians from their caves in the rocks. Beyond a doubt, the Bushman has borrowed his from the nest of the ostrich! It now becomes necessary to inquire how the Bushman spends his time? how he obtains subsistence? and what is the nature of his food? All these questions can be answered, though at first it may appear difficult to answer them. Dwelling, as he always does, in the very heart of the desert, remote from forests that might furnish him with some sort of food--trees that might yield fruit,--far away from a fertile soil, with no knowledge of agriculture, even if it were near,--with no flocks or herds; neither sheep, cattle, horses, nor swine,--no domestic animals but his lean, diminutive dogs,--how does this Bushman procure enough to eat? What are his sources of supply? We shall see. Being neither a grazier nor a farmer, he has other means of subsistence,--though it must be confessed that they are of a precarious character, and often during his life does the Bushman find himself on the very threshold of starvation. This, however, results less from the parsimony of Nature than the Bushman's own improvident habits,--a trait in his character which is, perhaps, more strongly developed in him than any other. We shall have occasion to refer to it presently. His first and chief mode of procuring his food is by the chase: for, although he is surrounded by the sterile wilderness, he is not the only animated being who has chosen the desert for his home. Several species of birds--one the largest of all--and quadrupeds, share with the Bushman the solitude and safety of this desolate region. The rhinoceros can dwell there; and in numerous streams are found the huge hippopotami; whilst quaggas, zebras, and several species of antelope frequent the desert plains as their favourite "stamping" ground. Some of these animals can live almost without water; but when they do require it, what to them is a gallop of fifty miles to some well-known "vley" or pool? It will be seen, therefore, that the desert has its numerous denizens. All these are objects of the Bushman's pursuit, who follows them with incessant pertinacity--as if he were a beast of prey, furnished by Nature with the most carnivorous propensities. In the capture of these animals he displays an almost incredible dexterity and cunning. His mode of approaching the sly ostrich, by disguising himself in the skin of one of these birds, is so well-known that I need not describe it here; but the _ruses_ he adopts for capturing or killing other sorts of game are many of them equally ingenious. The pit-trap is one of his favourite contrivances; and this, too, has been often described,--but often very erroneously. The pit is not a large hollow,--as is usually asserted,--but rather of dimensions proportioned to the size of the animal that is expected to fall into it. For game like the rhinoceros or _eland_ antelope, it is dug of six feet in length and three in width at the top; gradually narrowing to the bottom, where it ends in a trench of only twelve inches broad. Six or seven feet is considered deep enough; and the animal, once into it, gets so wedged at the narrow bottom part as to be unable to make use of its legs for the purpose of springing out again. Sometimes a sharp stake or two are used, with the view of _impaling_ the victim; but this plan is not always adopted. There is not much danger of a quadruped that drops in ever getting out again, till he is dragged out by the Bushman in the shape of a carcass. The Bushman's ingenuity does not end here. Besides the construction of the trap, it is necessary the game should be guided into it. Were this not done, the pit might remain a long time empty, and, as a necessary consequence, so too might the belly of the Bushman. In the wide plain few of the gregarious animals have a path which they follow habitually; only where there is a pool may such beaten trails be found, and of these the Bushman also avails himself; but they are not enough. Some artificial means must be used to make the traps pay--for they are not constructed without much labour and patience. The plan adopted by the Bushman to accomplish this exhibits some points of originality. He first chooses a part of the plain which lies between two mountains. No matter if these be distant from each other: a mile, or even two, will not deter the Bushman from his design. By the help of his whole tribe-- men, women, and children--he constructs a fence from one mountain to the other. The material used is whatever may be most ready to the hand: stones, sods, brush, or dead timber, if this be convenient. No matter how rude the fence: it need not either be very high. He leaves several gaps in it; and the wild animals, however easily they might leap over such a puny barrier, will, in their ordinary way, prefer to walk leisurely through the gaps. In each of these, however, there is a dangerous hole--dangerous from its depth as well as from the cunning way in which it is concealed from the view--in short, in each gap there is a _pit-fall_. No one--at least no animal except the elephant--would ever suspect its presence; the grass seems to grow over it, and the sand lies unturned, just as elsewhere upon the plain. What quadruped could detect the cheat? Not any one except the sagacious elephant. The stupid eland tumbles through; the gemsbok goes under; and the rhinoceros rushes into it as if destined to destruction. The Bushman sees this from his elevated perch, glides forward over the ground, and spears the struggling victim with his _poisoned assagai_. Besides the above method of capturing game the Bushman also uses the bow and arrows. This is a weapon in which he is greatly skilled; and although both bow and arrows are as tiny as if intended for children's toys, they are among the deadliest of weapons, their fatal effect lies not in the _size_ of the wound they are capable of inflicting, but in the peculiar mode in which the barbs of the arrows are prepared. I need hardly add that they are dipped in poison;--for who has not heard of the poisoned arrows of the African Bushmen? Both bow and arrows are usually rude enough in their construction, and would appear but a trumpery affair, were it not for a knowledge of their effects. The bow is a mere round stick, about three feet long, and slightly bent by means of its string of twisted sinews. The arrows are mere reeds, tipped with pieces of bone, with a split ostrich-quill lapped behind the head, and answering for a barb. This arrow the Bushman can shoot with tolerable certainty to a distance of a hundred yards, and he can even project it farther by giving a slight elevation to his aim. It signifies not whether the force with which it strikes the object be ever so slight, if it only makes an entrance. Even a scratch from its point will sometimes prove fatal. Of course the danger dwells altogether in the poison. Were it not for that, the Bushman, from his dwarfish stature and pigmy strength, would be a harmless creature indeed. The poison he well knows how to prepare, and he can make it of the most "potent spell," when the "materials" are within his reach. For this purpose he makes use of both vegetable and animal substances, and a mineral is also employed; but the last is not a poison, and is only used to give consistency to the liquid, so that it may the better adhere to the arrow. The vegetable substances are of various kinds. Some are botanically known: the bulb of _Amaryllis disticha_,--the gum of a _Euphorbia_,--the sap of a species of sumac (_Rhus_),--and the nuts of a shrubby plant, by the colonists called _Woolf-gift_ (Wolf-poison). The animal substance is the fluid found in the fangs of venomous serpents, several species of which serve the purpose of the Bushman: as the little "Horned Snake,"--so called from the scales rising prominently over its eyes; the "Yellow Snake," or South-African Cobra (_Naga haje_); the "Puff Adder," and others. From all these he obtains the ingredients of his deadly ointment, and mixes them, not all together; for he cannot always procure them all in any one region of the country in which he dwells. He makes his poison, also, of different degrees of potency, according to the purpose for which he intends it; whether for hunting or war. With sixty or seventy little arrows, well imbued with this fatal mixture, and carefully placed in his quiver of tree bark or skin,--or, what is not uncommon, stuck like a coronet around his head,--he sallies forth, ready to deal destruction either to game, animals, or to human enemies. Of these last he has no lack. Every man, not a Bushman, he deems his enemy; and he has some reason for thinking so. Truly may it be said of him, as of Ishmael, that his "hand is against every man, and every man's hand against him;" and such has been his unhappy history for ages. Not alone have the boers been his pursuers and oppressors, but all others upon his borders who are strong enough to attack him,--colonists, Caffres, and Bechuanas, all alike,--not even excepting his supposed kindred, the Hottentots. Not only does no fellow-feeling exist between Bushman and Hottentot, but, strange to say, they hate each other with the most rancorous hatred. The Bushman will plunder a Namaqua Hottentot, a Griqua, or a Gonaqua,--plunder and murder him with as much ruthlessness, or even more, than he would the hated Caffre or boer. All are alike his enemies,--all to be plundered and massacred, whenever met, and the thing appears possible. We are speaking of plunder. This is another source of supply to the Bushman, though one that is not always to be depended upon. It is his most dangerous method of obtaining a livelihood, and often costs him his life. He only resorts to it when all other resources fail him, and food is no longer to be obtained by the chase. He makes an expedition into the settlements,--either of the frontier boers, Caffres, or Hottentots,--whichever chance to live most convenient to his haunts. The expedition, of course, is by night, and conducted, not as an open _foray_, but in secret, and by stealth. The cattle are _stolen_, not _reeved_, and driven off while the owner and his people are asleep. In the morning, or as soon as the loss is discovered, a pursuit is at once set on foot. A dozen men, mounted and armed with long muskets (_roers_), take the _spoor_ of the spoilers, and follow it as fast as their horses will _carry_ them. A dozen boers, or even half that number, is considered a match for a whole tribe of Bushmen, in any fight which may occur in the open plain, as the boers make use of their long-range guns at such a distance that the Bushmen are shot down without being able to use their poisoned arrows; and if the thieves have the fortune to be overtaken before they have got far into the desert, they stand a good chance of being terribly chastised. There is no quarter shown them. Such a thing as mercy is never dreamt of,--no sparing of lives any more than if they were a pack of hyenas. The Bushmen may escape to the rocks, such of them as are not hit by the bullets; and there the boers know it would be idle to follow them. Like the klipspringer antelope, the little savages can bound from rock to rock, and cliff to cliff, or hide like partridges among crevices, where neither man nor horse can pursue them. Even upon the level plain--if it chance to be stony or intersected with breaks and ravines--a horseman would endeavour to overtake them in vain, for these yellow imps are as swift as ostriches. When the spoilers scatter thus, the boer may recover his cattle, but in what condition? That he has surmised already, without going among the herd. He does not expect to drive home one half of them; perhaps not one head. On reaching the flock he finds there is not one without a wound of some kind or other: a gash in the flank, the cut of a knife, the stab of an assagai, or a poisoned arrow--intended for the boer himself--sticking between the ribs. This is the sad spectacle that meets his eyes; but he never reflects that it is the result of his own cruelty,--he never regards it in the light of retribution. Had he not first hunted the Bushman to make him a slave, to make bondsmen and bondsmaids of his sons and daughters, to submit them to the caprice and tyranny of his great, strapping _frau_, perhaps his cattle would have been browsing quietly in his fields. The poor Bushman, in attempting to take them, followed but his instincts of hunger: in yielding them up he obeyed but the promptings of revenge. It is not always that the Bushman is thus overtaken. He frequently succeeds in carrying the whole herd to his desert fastness; and the skill which he exhibits in getting them there is perfectly surprising. The cattle themselves are more afraid of him than of a wild beast, and run at his approach; but the Bushman, swifter than they, can glide all around them, and keep them moving at a rapid rate. He uses stratagem also to obstruct or baffle the pursuit. The route he takes is through the driest part of the desert,--if possible, where water does not exist at all. The cattle suffer from thirst, and bellow from the pain; but the Bushman cares not for that, so long as he is himself served. But how is he served? There is no water, and a Bushman can no more go without drinking than a boer: how then does he provide for himself on these long expeditions? All has been pre-arranged. While off to the settlements, the Bushman's wife has been busy. The whole _kraal_ of women--young and old--have made an excursion halfway across the desert, each carrying ostrich egg-shells, as much as her kaross will hold, each shell full of water. These have been deposited at intervals along the route in secret spots known by marks to the Bushmen, and this accomplished the women return home again. In this way the plunderer obtains his supply of water, and thus is he enabled to continue his journey over the arid _Karroo_. The pursuers become appalled. They are suffering from thirst--their horses sinking under them. Perhaps they have lost their way? It would be madness to proceed further. "Let the cattle go this time?" and with this disheartening reflection they give up the pursuit, turn the heads of their horses, and ride homeward. There is a feast at the Bushman's kraal--and such a feast! not _one_ ox is slaughtered, but a score of them all at once. They kill them, as if from very wantonness; and they no longer eat, but raven on the flesh. For days the feasting is kept up almost continuously,--even at night they must wake up to have a midnight meal! and thus runs the tale, till every ox has been eaten. They have not the slightest idea of a provision for the future; even the lower animals seem wiser in this respect. They do not think of keeping a few of the plundered cattle at pasture to serve them for a subsequent occasion. They give the poor brutes neither food nor drink; but, having penned them up in some defile of the rocks, leave them to moan and bellow, to drop down and die. On goes the feasting, till all are finished; and even if the flesh has turned putrid, this forms not the slightest objection: it is eaten all the same. The kraal now exhibits an altered spectacle. The starved, meagre wretches, who were seen flitting among its tents but a week ago, have all disappeared. Plump bodies and distended abdomens are the order of the day; and the profile of the Bushwoman, taken from the neck to the knees, now exhibits the outline of the letter S. The little imps leap about, tearing raw flesh,--their yellow cheeks besmeared with blood,-- and the lean curs seem to have been exchanged for a pack of fat, petted poodles. But this scene must some time come to an end, and at length it does end. All the flesh is exhausted, and the bones picked clean. A complete reaction comes over the spirit of the Bushman. He falls into a state of languor,--the only time when he knows such a feeling,--and he keeps his kraal, and remains idle for days. Often he sleeps for twenty-four hours at a time, and wakes only to go to sleep again. He need not rouse himself with the idea of getting something to eat: there is not a morsel in the whole kraal, and he knows it. He lies still, therefore,-- weakened with hunger, and overcome with the drowsiness of a terrible lassitude. Fortunate for him, while in this state, if those bold vultures-- attracted by the _debris_ of his feast, and now high wheeling in the air--be not perceived from afar; fortunate if they do not discover the whereabouts of his kraal to the vengeful pursuer. If they should do so, he has made his last foray and his last feast. When the absolute danger of starvation at length compels our Bushman to bestir himself, he seems to recover a little of his energy, and once more takes to hunting, or, if near a stream, endeavours to catch a few fish. Should both these resources fail, he has another,--without which he would most certainly starve,--and perhaps this may be considered his most important source of supply, since it is the most constant, and can be depended on at nearly all seasons of the year. Weakened with hunger, then, and scarce equal to any severer labour, he goes _out hunting--this time insects, not quadrupeds_. With a stout stick inserted into a stone at one end and pointed at the other, he proceeds to the nests of the white ants (_termites_), and using the point of the stick,--the stone serving by its weight to aid the force of the blow,--he breaks open the hard, gummy clay of which the hillock is formed. Unless the _aard-vark_ and the _pangolin_--two very different kinds of ant-eaters--have been there before him, he finds the chambers filled with the eggs of the ants, the insects themselves, and perhaps large quantities of their _larvae_. All are equally secured by the Bushman, and either devoured on the spot, or collected into a skin bag, and carried back to his kraal. He hunts also another species of ants that do not build nests or "hillocks," but bring forth their young in hollows under the ground. These make long galleries or covered ways just under the surface, and at certain periods--which the Bushman knows by unmistakable signs--they become very active, and traverse these underground galleries in thousands. If the passages were to be opened above, the ants would soon make off to their caves, and but a very few could be captured. The Bushman, knowing this, adopts a stratagem. With the stick already mentioned he pierces holes of a good depth down; and works the stick about, until the sides of the holes are smooth and even. These he intends shall serve him as pitfalls; and they are therefore made in the covered ways along which the insects are passing. The result is, that the little creatures, not suspecting the existence of these deep wells, tumble head foremost into them, and are unable to mount up the steep smooth sides again, so that in a few minutes the hole will be filled with ants, which the Bushman scoops out at his leisure. Another source of supply which he has, and also a pretty constant one, consists of various roots of the tuberous kind, but more especially bulbous roots, which grow in the desert. They are several species of _Ixias_ and _Mesembryanthemums_,--some of them producing bulbs of a large size, and deeply buried underground. Half the Bushman's and Bushwoman's time is occupied in digging for these roots; and the spade employed is the stone-headed staff already described. Ostrich eggs also furnish the Bushman with many a meal; and the huge shells of these eggs serve him for water-vessels, cups, and dishes. He is exceedingly expert in tracking up the ostrich, and discovering its nest. Sometimes he finds a nest in the absence of the birds; and in a case of this kind he pursues a course of conduct that is _peculiarly Bushman_. Having removed all the eggs to a distance, and concealed them under some bush, he returns to the nest and ensconces himself in it. His diminutive body, when close squatted, cannot be perceived from a distance, especially when there are a few bushes around the nest, as there usually are. Thus concealed he awaits the return of the birds, holding his bow and poisoned arrows ready to salute them as soon as they come within range. By this _ruse_ he is almost certain of killing either the cock or hen, and not infrequently both--when they do not return together. Lizards and land-tortoises often furnish the Bushman with a meal; and the shell of the latter serves him also for a dish; but his period of greatest plenty is when the locusts _appear_. Then, indeed, the Bushman is no longer in want of a meal; and while these creatures remain with him, he knows no hunger. He grows fat in a trice, and his curs keep pace with him--for they too greedily devour the locusts. Were the locusts a constant, or even an annual visitor, the Bushman would be a rich man--at all events his wants would be amply supplied. Unfortunately for him, but fortunately for everybody else, these terrible destroyers of vegetation only come now and then--several years often intervening between their visits. The Bushmen have no religion whatever; no form of marriage--any more than mating together like wild beasts; but they appear to have some respect for the memory of their dead, since they bury them--usually erecting a large pile of stones, or "cairn," over the body. They are far from being of a melancholy mood. Though crouching in their dens and caves during the day, in dread of the boers and other enemies, they come forth at night to chatter and make merry. During fine moonlights they dance all night, keeping up the _ball_ till morning; and in their kraals may be seen a circular spot--beaten hard and smooth with their feet--where these dances are performed. They have no form of government--not so much as a head man or chief. Even the father of the family possesses no authority, except such as superior strength may give him; and when his sons are grown up and become as strong as he is, this of course also ceases. They have no tribal organisation; the small communities in which they live being merely so many individuals accidentally brought together, often quarrelling and separating from one another. These communities rarely number over a hundred individuals, since, from the nature of their country, a large number could not find subsistence in any one place. It follows, therefore, that the Bushman race must ever remain widely scattered--so long as they pursue their present mode of life--and no influence has ever been able to win them from it. Missionary efforts made among them have all proved fruitless. The desert seems to have been created for them, as they for the desert; and when transferred elsewhere, to dwell amidst scenes of civilised life, they always yearn to return to their wilderness home. Truly are these pigmy savages an odd people! CHAPTER TWO. THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. In glancing at the map of the American continent, we are struck by a remarkable analogy between the geographical features of its two great divisions--the North and the South,--an analogy amounting almost to a symmetrical parallelism. Each has its "mighty" mountains--the _Cordilleras of the Andes_ in the south, and the _Cordilleras of the Sierra Madre_ (Rocky Mountains) in the north--with all the varieties of volcano and eternal snow. Each has its secondary chain: in the north, the _Nevadas_ of California and Oregon; in the south, the _Sierras_ of Caraccas and the group of Guiana; and, if you wish to render the parallelism complete, descend to a lower elevation, and set the Alleghanies of the United States against the mountains of Brazil--both alike detached from all the others. In the comparison we have exhausted the mountain chains of both divisions of the continent. If we proceed further, and carry it into minute detail, we shall find the same correspondence--ridge for ridge, chain for chain, peak for peak;--in short, a most singular equilibrium, as if there had been a design that one half of this great continent should balance the other! From the mountains let us proceed to the rivers, and see how _they_ will correspond. Here, again, we discover a like parallelism, amounting almost to a rivalry. Each continent (for it is proper to style them so) contains the largest river in the world. If we make _length_ the standard, the north claims precedence for the Mississippi; if _volume of water_ is to be the criterion, the south is entitled to it upon the merits of the Amazon. Each, too, has its numerous branches, spreading into a mighty "tree"; and these, either singly or combined, form a curious equipoise both in length and magnitude. We have only time to set list against list, tributaries of the great northern river against tributaries of its great southern compeer,--the Ohio and Illinois, the Yellowstone and Platte, the Kansas and Osage, the Arkansas and Red, against the Madeira and Purus, the Ucayali and Huallaga, the Japura and Negro, the Xingu and Tapajos. Of other river systems, the Saint Lawrence may be placed against the La Plata, the Oregon against the Orinoco, the Mackenzie against the Magdalena, and the Rio Bravo del Norte against the Tocantins; while the two Colorados--the Brazos and Alabama--find their respective rivals in the Essequibo, the Paranahybo, the Pedro, and the Patagonian Negro; and the San Francisco of California, flowing over sands of gold, is balanced by its homonyme of Brazil, that has its origin in the land of diamonds. To an endless list might the comparison be carried. We pass to the plains. _Prairies_ in the north, _llanos_ and _pampas_ in the south, almost identical in character. _Of the plateaux_ or tablelands, those of Mexico, La Puebla, Perote, and silver Potosi in the north; those of Quito, Bogota, Cusco, and gold Potosi in the south; of the desert plains, Utah and the Llano Estacado against Atacama and the deserts of Patagonia. Even the Great Salt Lake has its parallel in Titicaca; while the "Salinas" of New Mexico and the upland prairies, are represented by similar deposits in the Gran Chaco and the Pampas. We arrive finally at the forests. Though unlike in other respects, we have here also a rivalry in magnitude,--between the vast timbered expanse stretching from Arkansas to the Atlantic shores, and that which covers the valley of the Amazon. These _were_ the two greatest forests on the face of the earth. I say _were_, for one of them no longer exists; at least, it is no longer a continuous tract, but a collection of forests, opened by the axe, and intersected by the clearings of the colonist. The other still stands in all its virgin beauty and primeval vigour, untouched by the axe, undefiled by fire, its path scarce trodden by human feet, its silent depths to this hour unexplored. It is with this forest and its denizens we have to do. Here then let us terminate the catalogue of similitudes, and concentrate our attention upon the particular subject of our sketch. The whole _valley_ of the Amazon--in other words, the tract watered by this great river and its tributaries--may be described as one unbroken forest. We now know the borders of this forest with considerable exactness, but to trace them here would require a too lengthened detail. Suffice it to say, that lengthwise it extends from the mouth of the Amazon to the foothills of the Peruvian Andes, a distance of 2,500 miles. In breadth it varies, beginning on the Atlantic coast with a breadth of 400 miles, which widens towards the central part of the continent till it attains to 1,500, and again narrowing to about 1,000, where it touches the eastern slope of the Andes. That form of leaf known to botanists as "obovate" will give a good idea of the figure of the great Amazon forest, supposing the small end or shank to rest on the Atlantic, and the broad end to extend along the semicircular concavity of the Andes, from Bolivia on the south to New Granada on the north. In all this vast expanse of territory there is scarce an acre of open ground, if we except the water-surface of the rivers and their bordering "lagoons," which, were they to bear their due proportions on a map, could scarce be represented by the narrowest lines, or the most inconspicuous dots. The grass plains which embay the forest on its southern edge along the banks of some of its Brazilian tributaries, or those which proceed like spurs from the Llanos of Venezuela, do not in any place approach the Amazon itself, and there are many points on the great river which may be taken as centres, and around which circles may be drawn, having diameters 1,000 miles in length, the circumferences of which will enclose nothing but timbered land. The main stream of the Amazon, though it intersects this grand forest, does not _bisect_ it, speaking with mathematical precision. There is rather more timbered surface to the southward than that which extends northward, though the inequality of the two divisions is not great. It would not be much of an error to say that the Amazon river cuts the forest in halves. At its mouth, however, this would not apply; since for the first 300 miles above the embouchure of the river, the country on the northern side is destitute of timber. This is occasioned by the projecting spurs of the Guiana mountains, which on that side approach the Amazon in the shape of naked ridges and grass-covered hills and plains. It is not necessary to say that the great forest of the Amazon is a tropical one--since the river itself, throughout its whole course, almost traces the line of the equator. Its vegetation, therefore, is emphatically of a tropical character; and in this respect it differs essentially from that of North America, or rather, we should say, of Canada and the United States. It is necessary to make this limitation, because the forests of the tropical parts of North America, including the West-Indian islands, present a great similitude to that of the Amazon. It is not only in the genera and species of trees that the _sylva_ of the temperate zone differs from that of the torrid; but there is a very remarkable difference in the distribution of these genera and species. In a great forest of the north, it is not uncommon to find a large tract covered with a single species of trees,--as with pines, oaks, poplars, or the red cedar (_Juniperus Virginiana_). This arrangement is rather the rule than the exception; whereas, in the tropical forest, the rule is reversed, except in the case of two or three species of palms (_Mauritia_ and _Euterpe_), which sometimes exclusively cover large tracts of surface. Of other trees, it is rare to find even a clump or grove standing together--often only two or three trees, and still more frequently, a single individual is observed, separated from those of its own kind by hundreds of others, all differing in order, genus, and species. I note this peculiarity of the tropic forest, because it exercises, as may easily be imagined, a direct influence upon the economy of its human occupants--whether these be savage or civilised. Even the habits of the lower animals--beasts and birds--are subject to a similar influence. It would be out of place here to enumerate the different kinds of trees that compose this mighty wood,--a bare catalogue of their names would alone fill many pages,--and it would be safe to say that if the list were given as now known to botanists, it would comprise scarce half the species that actually exist in the valley of the Amazon. In real truth, this vast Garden of God is yet unexplored by man. Its border walks and edges have alone been examined; and the enthusiastic botanist need not fear that he is too late in the field. A hundred years will elapse before this grand _parterre_ can be exhausted. At present, a thorough examination of the botany of the Amazon valley would be difficult, if not altogether impossible, even though conducted on a grand and expensive scale. There are several reasons for this. Its woods are in many places absolutely impenetrable--on account either of the thick tangled undergrowth, or from the damp, spongy nature of the soil. There are no roads that could be traversed by horse or man; and the few paths are known only to the wild savage,--not always passable even by him. Travelling can only be done by water, either upon the great rivers, or by the narrow creeks (igaripes) or lagoons; and a journey performed in this fashion must needs be both tedious and indirect, allowing but a limited opportunity for observation. Horses can scarce be said to exist in the country, and cattle are equally rare--a few only are found in one or two of the large Portuguese settlements on the main river--and the jaguars and blood-sucking bats offer a direct impediment to their increase. Contrary to the general belief, the tropical forest is not the home of the larger mammalia: it is not their proper _habitat_, nor are they found in it. In the Amazon forest but few species exist, and these not numerous in individuals. There are no vast herds--as of buffaloes on the prairies of North America, or of antelopes in Africa. The tapir alone attains to any considerable size,--exceeding that of the ass,--but its numbers are few. Three or four species of small deer represent the ruminants, and the hog of the Amazon is the peccary. Of these there are at least three species. Where the forest impinges on the mountain regions of Peru, bears are found of at least two kinds, but not on the lower plains of the great "Montana,"--for by this general designation is the vast expanse of the Amazon country known among the Peruvian people. "Montes" and "montanas," literally signifying "mountains," are not so understood among Spanish Americans. With them the "montes" and "montanas" are tracts of forest-covered country, and that of the Amazon valley is the "Montana" _par excellence_. Sloths of several species, and opossums of still greater variety, are found all over the Montana, but both thinly distributed as regards the number of individuals. A similar remark applies to the ant-eaters or "ant-bears," of which there are four kinds,--to the armadillos, the "agoutis," and the "cavies," one of which last, the _capibara_, is the largest rodent upon earth. This, with its kindred genus, the "paca," is not so rare in individual numbers, but, on the contrary, appears in large herds upon the borders of the rivers and lagoons. A porcupine, several species of spinous rats, an otter, two or three kinds of badger-like animals (the _potto_ and _coatis_), a "honey-bear" (_Galera barbara_), and a fox, or wild dog, are widely distributed throughout the Montana. Everywhere exists the jaguar, both the black and spotted varieties, and the puma has there his lurking-place. Smaller cats, both spotted and striped, are numerous in species, and squirrels of several kinds, with bats, complete the list of the terrestrial mammalia. Of all the lower animals, monkeys are the most common, for to them the Montana is a congenial home. They abound not only in species, but in the number of individuals, and their ubiquitous presence contributes to enliven the woods. At least thirty different kinds of them exist in the Amazon valley, from the "coatas," and other howlers as large as baboons, to the tiny little "ouistitis" and "saimiris," not bigger than squirrels or rats. While we must admit a paucity in the species of the quadrupeds of the Amazon, the same remark does not apply to the birds. In the ornithological department of natural history, a fulness and richness here exist, perhaps not equalled elsewhere. The most singular and graceful forms, combined with the most brilliant plumage, are everywhere presented to the eye, in the parrots and great macaws, the toucans, trogons, and tanagers, the _shrikes_, humming-birds, and orioles; and even in the vultures and eagles: for here are found the most beautiful of predatory birds,--the king vulture and the harpy eagle. Of the feathered creatures existing in the valleys of the Amazon there are not less than one thousand different species, of which only one half have yet been caught or described. Reptiles are equally abundant--the serpent family being represented by numerous species, from the great water boa (_anaconda_), of ten yards in length, to the tiny and beautiful but venomous _lachesis_, or coral snake, not thicker than the shank of a tobacco-pipe. The lizards range through a like gradation, beginning with the huge "jacare," or crocodile, of several species, and ending with the turquoise-blue _anolius_, not bigger than a newt. The waters too are rich in species of their peculiar inhabitants--of which the most remarkable and valuable are the _manatees_ (two or three species), the great and smaller turtles, the porpoises of various kinds, and an endless catalogue of the finny tribes that frequent the rivers of the tropics. It is mainly from this source, and not from four-footed creatures of the forest, that the human denizen of the great Montana draws his supply of food,--at least that portion of it which may be termed the "meaty." Were it not for the _manatee_, the great porpoise, and other large fish, he would often have to "eat his bread dry." And now it is _his_ turn to be "talked about." I need not inform you that the aborigines who inhabit the valley of the Amazon, are all of the so-called _Indian_ race--though there are so many, distinct tribes of them that almost every river of any considerable magnitude has a tribe of its own. In some cases a number of these tribes belong to one _nationality_; that is, several of them may be found speaking nearly the same language, though living apart from each other; and of these larger divisions or nationalities there are several occupying the different districts of the Montana. The tribes even of the same nationality do not always present a uniform appearance. There are darker and fairer tribes; some in which the average standard of height is less than among Europeans; and others where it equals or exceeds this. There are tribes again where both men and women are ill-shaped and ill-favoured--though these are few--and other tribes where both sexes exhibit a considerable degree of personal beauty. Some tribes are even distinguished for their good looks, the men presenting models of manly form, while the women are equally attractive by the regularity of their features, and the graceful modesty of expression that adorns them. A minute detail of the many peculiarities in which the numerous tribes of the Amazon differ from one another would fill a large volume; and in a sketch like the present, which is meant to include them all, it would not be possible to give such a detail. Nor indeed would it serve any good purpose; for although there are many points of difference between the different tribes, yet these are generally of slight importance, and are far more than counterbalanced by the multitude of resemblances. So numerous are these last, as to create a strong _idiosyncrasy_ in the tribes of the Amazon, which not only entitles them to be classed together in an ethnological point of view, but which separates them from all the other Indians of America. Of course, the non-possession of the horse--they do not even know the animal--at once broadly distinguishes them from the Horse Indians, both of the Northern and Southern divisions of the continent. It would be idle here to discuss the question as to whether the Amazonian Indians have all a common origin. It is evident they have not. We know that many of them are from Peru and Bogota--runaways from Spanish oppression. We know that others migrated from the south-- equally fugitives from the still more brutal and barbarous domination of the Portuguese. And still others were true aboriginals of the soil, or if emigrants, when and whence came they? An idle question, never to be satisfactorily answered. There they now are, and _as they are_ only shall we here consider them. Notwithstanding the different sources whence they sprang, we find them, as I have already said, stamped with a certain idiosyncrasy, the result, no doubt, of the like circumstances which surround them. One or two tribes alone, whose habits are somewhat "odder" than the rest, have been treated to a separate chapter; but for the others, whatever is said of one, will, with very slight alteration, stand good for the whole of the Amazonian tribes. Let it be understood that we are discoursing only of those known as the "Indios bravos," the fierce, brave, savage, or wild Indians--as you may choose to translate the phrase,--a phrase used throughout all Spanish America to distinguish those tribes, or sections of tribes, who refused obedience to Spanish tyranny, and who preserve to this hour their native independence and freedom. In contradistinction to the "Indios bravos" are the "Indios mansos," or "tame Indians," who submitted tamely both to the cross and sword, and now enjoy a rude demi-semi-civilisation, under the joint protectorate of priests and soldiers. Between these two kinds of American aborigines, there is as much difference as between a lord and his serf--the true savage representing the former and the demi-semi-civilised savage approximating more nearly to the latter. The meddling monk has made a complete failure of it. His ends were purely political, and the result has proved ruinous to all concerned;--instead of civilising the savage, he has positively demoralised him. It is not of his neophytes, the "Indios mansos," we are now writing, but of the "infidels," who would not hearken to his voice or listen to his teachings--those who could never be brought within "sound of the bell." Both "kinds" dwell within the valley of the Amazon, but in different places. The "Indios mansos" may be found along the banks of the main stream, from its source to its mouth--but more especially on its upper waters, where it runs through Spanish (Peruvian) territory. There they dwell in little villages or collections of huts, ruled by the missionary monk with iron rod, and performing for him all the offices of the menial slave. Their resources are few, not even equalling those of their wild but independent brethren; and their customs and religion exhibit a ludicrous _melange_ of savagery and civilisation. Farther down the river, the "Indio manso" is a "tapuio," a hireling of the Portuguese, or to speak more correctly, a _slave_; for the latter treats him as such, considers him as such, and though there is a law against it, often drags him from his forest-home and keeps him in life-long bondage. Any human law would be a dead letter among such white-skins as are to be encountered upon the banks of the Amazon. Fortunately they are but few; a town or two on the lower Amazon and Rio Negro,--some wretched villages between,--scattered _estancias_ along the banks--with here and there a paltry post of "militarios," dignified by the name of a "fort:" these alone speak the progress of the Portuguese civilisation throughout a period of three centuries! From all these settlements the wild Indian keeps away. He is never found near them--he is never seen by travellers, not even by the settlers. You may descend the mighty Amazon from its source to its mouth, and not once set your eyes upon the true son of the forest--the "Indio bravo." Coming in contact only with the neophyte of the Spanish missionary, and the skulking _tapuio_ of the Portuguese trader, you might bring away a very erroneous impression of the character of an Amazonian Indian. Where is he to be seen? where dwells he? what like is his home? what sort of a house does he build? His costume? his arms? his occupation? his habits? These are the questions you would put. They shall all be answered, but briefly as possible--since our limited space requires brevity. The wild Indian, then, is not to be found upon the Amazon itself, though there are long reaches of the river where he is free to roam--hundreds of miles without either town or _estancia_. He hunts, and occasionally fishes by the great water, but does not there make his dwelling--though in days gone by, its shores were his favourite place of residence. These were before the time when Orellana floated down past the door of his "malocca"--before that dark hour when the Brazilian slave-hunter found his way into the waters of the mighty _Solimoes_. This last event was the cause of his disappearance. It drove him from the shores of his beloved river-sea; forced him to withdraw his dwelling from observation, and rebuild it far up, on those tributaries where he might live a more peaceful life, secure from the trafficker in human flesh. Hence it is that the home of the Amazonian Indian is now to be sought for--not on the Amazon itself, but on its tributary streams--on the "canos" and "igaripes," the canals and lagoons that, with a labyrinthine ramification, intersect the mighty forest of the Montana. Here dwells he, and here is he to be seen by any one bold enough to visit him in his fastness home. How is he domiciled? Is there anything peculiar about the style of his house or his village? Eminently peculiar; for in this respect he differs from all the other savage people of whom we have yet written, or of whom we may have occasion to write. Let us proceed at once to describe his dwelling. It is not a tent, nor is it a hut, nor a cabin, nor a cottage, nor yet a cave! His dwelling can hardly be termed a house, nor his village a collection of houses-- since both house and village are one and the same, and both are so peculiar, that we have no name for such a structure in civilised lands, unless we should call it a "barrack." But even this appellation would give but an erroneous idea of the Amazonian dwelling; and therefore we shall use that by which it is known in the "Lingoa geral," and call it a _malocca_. By such name is his house (or village rather) known among the _tapuios_ and traders of the Amazon. Since it is both house and village at the same time, it must needs be a large structure; and so is it, large enough to contain the whole tribe--or at least the section of it that has chosen one particular spot for their residence. It is the property of the whole community, built by the labour of all, and used as their common dwelling--though each family has its own section specially set apart for itself. It will thus be seen that the Amazonian savage is, to some extent, a disciple of the Socialist school. I have not space to enter into a minute account of the architecture of the _malocca_. Suffice it to say, that it is an immense temple-like building, raised upon timber uprights, so smooth and straight as to resemble columns. The beams and rafters are also straight and smooth, and are held in their places by "sipos" (tough creeping plants), which are whipped around the joints with a neatness and compactness equal to that used in the rigging of a ship. The roof is a thatch of palm-leaves, laid on with great regularity, and brought very low down at the eaves, so as to give to the whole structure the appearance of a gigantic beehive. The walls are built of split palms or bamboos, placed so closely together as to be impervious to either bullet or arrows. The plan is a parallelogram, with a semicircle at one end; and the building is large enough to accommodate the whole community, often numbering more than a hundred individuals. On grand festive occasions several neighbouring communities can find room enough in it--even for dancing--and three or four hundred individuals not unfrequently assemble under the roof of a single _malocca_. Inside the arrangements are curious. There is a wide hall or avenue in the middle--that extends from end to end throughout the whole length of the parallelogram--and on both sides of the hall is a row of partitions, separated from each other by split palms or canes, closely placed. Each of these sections is the abode of a family, and the place of deposit for the hammocks, clay pots, calabash-cups, dishes, baskets, weapons, and ornaments, which are the private property of each. The hall is used for the larger cooking utensils--such as the great clay ovens and pans for baking the cassava, and boiling the _caxire_ or _chicha_. This is also a neutral ground, where the children play, and where the dancing is done on the occasion of grand "balls" and other ceremonial festivals. The common doorway is in the gable end, and is six feet wide by ten in height. It remains open during the day, but is closed at night by a mat of palm fibre suspended from the top. There is another and smaller doorway at the semicircular end; but this is for the private use of the chief, who appropriates the whole section of the semicircle to himself and his family. Of course the above is only the general outline of a _malocca_. A more particular description would not answer for that of all the tribes of the Amazon. Among different communities, and in different parts of the Montana, the _malocca_ varies in size, shape, and the materials of which it is built; and there are some tribes who live in separate huts. These exceptions, however, are few, and as a general thing, that above described is the style of habitation throughout the whole Montana, from the confines of Peru to the shores of the Atlantic. North and south we encounter this singular house-village, from the headwaters of the Rio Negro to the highlands of Brazil. Most of the Amazonian tribes follow agriculture, and understood the art of tillage before the coming of the Spaniards. They practise it, however, to a very limited extent. They cultivate a little manioc, and know how to manufacture it into _farinha_ or _cassava_ bread. They plant the _musaceae_ and yam, and understand the distillation of various drinks, both from the plantain and several kinds of palms. They can make pottery from clay,--shaping it into various forms, neither rude nor inelegant,--and from the trees and parasitical twiners that surround their dwellings, they manufacture an endless variety of neat implements and utensils. Their canoes are hollow trunks of trees sufficiently well-shaped, and admirably adapted to their mode of travelling--which is almost exclusively by water, by the numerous _canos_ and _igaripes_, which are the roads and paths of their country--often as narrow and intricate as paths by land. The Indians of the tropic forest dress in the very lightest costume. Of course each tribe has its own fashion; but a mere belt of cotton cloth, or the inner bark of a tree, passed round the waist and between the limbs, is all the covering they care for. It is the _guayuco_. Some wear a skirt of tree bark, and, on grand occasions, feather tunics are seen, and also plume head-dresses, made of the brilliant wing and tail feathers of parrots and macaws. Circlets of these also adorn the arms and limbs. All the tribes paint, using the _anotto, caruto_, and several other dyes which they obtain from various kinds of trees, elsewhere more particularly described. There are one or two tribes who _tattoo_ their skins; but this strange practice is far less common among the American Indians than with the natives of the Pacific isles. In the manufacture of their various household utensils and implements, as well as their weapons for war and the chase, many tribes of Amazonian Indians display an ingenuity that would do credit to the most accomplished artisans. The hammocks made by them have been admired everywhere; and it is from the valley of the Amazon that most of these are obtained, so much prized in the cities of Spanish and Portuguese America. They are the special manufacture of the women, the men only employing their mechanical skill on their weapons: The hammock, "rede," or "maqueira," is manufactured out of strings obtained from the young leaves of several species of palms. The _astrocaryum_, or "tucum" palm furnishes this cordage, but a still better quality is obtained from the "miriti" (_Mauritia flexuosa_). The unopened leaf, which forms a thick-pointed column growing up out of the crown of the tree, is cut off at the base, and this being pulled apart, is shaken dexterously until the tender leaflets fall out. These being stripped of their outer covering, leave behind a thin tissue of a pale-yellowish colour, which is the fibre for making the cordage. After being tied in bundles this fibre is left awhile to dry, and is then twisted by being rolled between the hand and the hip or thigh. The women perform this process with great dexterity. Taking two strands of fibre between the forefinger and thumb of the left hand, they lay them separated a little along the thigh; a roll downward gives them a twist, and then being adroitly brought together, a roll upwards completes the making of the cord. Fifty fathoms in a day is considered a good day's spinning. The cords are afterwards dyed of various colours, to render them more ornamental when woven into the maqueira. The making of this is a simple process. Two horizontal rods are placed at about seven feet apart, over which the cord is passed some fifty or sixty times, thus forming the "woof." The warp is then worked in by knotting the cross strings at equal distances apart, until there are enough. Two strong cords are then inserted where the rods pass through, and these being firmly looped, so as to draw all the parallel strings together, the rod is pulled out, and the hammock is ready to be used. Of course, with very fine "redes," and those intended to be disposed of to the traders, much pains are taken in the selection of the materials, the dyeing the cord, and the weaving it into the hammock. Sometimes very expensive articles are made ornamented with the brilliant feathers of birds cunningly woven among the meshes and along the borders. Besides making the hammock, which is the universal couch of the Amazonian Indian, the women also manufacture a variety of beautiful baskets. Many species of palms and _calamus_ supply them with materials for this purpose, one of the best being the "Iu" palm (_Astrocaryum acaule_). They also make many implements and utensils, some for cultivating the plantains, melons, and _manioc root_, and others for manufacturing the last-named vegetable into their favourite "farinha" (_cassava_). The Indians understood how to separate the poisonous juice of this valuable root from its wholesome farina before the arrival of white men among them; and the process by which they accomplish this purpose has remained without change up to the present hour, in fact, it is almost the same as that practised by the Spaniards and Portuguese, who simply adopted the Indian method. The work is performed by the women, and thus: the roots are brought home from the manioc "patch" in baskets, and then washed and peeled. The peeling is usually performed by the teeth; after that the roots are grated, the grater being a large wooden slab about three feet long, a foot wide, a little hollowed out, and the hollow part covered all over with sharp pieces of quartz set in regular diamond-shaped patterns. Sometime a cheaper grater is obtained by using the aerial root of the pashiuba palm (_Iriartea exhorhiza_), which, being thickly covered over with hard spinous protuberances, serves admirably for the purpose. The grated pulp is next placed to dry upon a sieve, made of the rind of a water-plant, and is afterwards put into a long elastic cylinder-shaped basket or net, of the bark of the "jacitara" palm (_Desmoncus macroacanthus_). This is the _tipiti_; and at its lower end there is a strong loop, through which a stout pole is passed; while the _tipiti_ itself, when filled with pulp, is hung up to the branch of a tree, or to a firm peg in the wall. One end of the pole is then rested against some projecting point, that serves as a fulcrum, while the Indian woman, having seated herself upon the other end, with her infant in her arms, or perhaps some work in her hands, acts as the lever power. Her weight draws the sides of the _tipiti_ together, until it assumes the form of an inverted cone; and thus the juice is gradually pressed out of the pulp, and drops into a vessel placed underneath to receive it. The mother must be careful that the little imp does not escape from under her eye, and perchance quench its thirst out of the vessel below. If such an accident were to take place, in a very few minutes she would have to grieve for a lost child; since the sap of the manioc root, the variety most cultivated by the Indians, is a deadly poison. This is the "yucca amarga," or bitter manioc; the "yucca dulce," or sweet kind, being quite innoxious, even if eaten in its raw state. The remainder of the process consists in placing the grated pulp--now sufficiently dry--on a large pan or oven, and submitting it to the action of the fire. It is then thought sufficiently good for Indian use; but much of it is afterwards prepared for commerce, under different names, and sold as _semonilla_ (erroneously called _semolina_), sago, and even as arrowroot. At the bottom of that, poisonous tub, a sediment has all the while been forming. That is the _starch_ of the manioc root--the _tapioca_ of commerce: of course that is not thrown away. The men of the tropic forest spend their lives in doing very little. They are idle and not much disposed to work--only when war or the chase calls them forth do they throw aside for awhile their indolent habit, and exhibit a little activity. They hunt with the bow and arrow, and fish with a harpoon spear, nets, and sometimes by poisoning water with the juice of a vine called barbasco. The "peixe boy," "vaca marina," or "manatee,"--all three names being synonymes--is one of the chief animals of their pursuit. All the waters of the Amazon valley abound with manatees, probably of several species, and these large creatures are captured by the harpoon, just as seals or walrus are taken. Porpoises also frequent the South-American rivers; and large fresh-water fish of numerous species. The game hunted by the Amazonian Indians can scarcely be termed noble. We have seen that the large _mammalia_ are few, and thinly distributed in the tropical forest. With the exception of the jaguar and peccary, the chase is limited to small quadrupeds--as the capibara, the paca, agouti--to many kinds of monkeys, and an immense variety of birds. The monkey is the most common game, and is not only eaten by all the Amazonian Indians, but by most of them considered as the choicest of food. In procuring their game the hunters sometimes use the common bow and arrow, but most of the tribes are in possession of a weapon which they prefer to all others for this particular purpose. It is an implement of death so original in its character and so singular in its construction as to deserve a special and minute description. The weapon I allude to is the "blow-gun," called "pucuna" by the Indians themselves, "gravitana" by the Spaniards, and "cerbatana" by the Portuguese of Brazil. When the Amazonian Indian wishes to manufacture for himself a _pucuna_ he goes out into the forest and searches for two tall, straight stems of the "pashiuba miri" palm (_Iriartea setigera_). These he requires of such thickness that one can be contained within the other. Having found what he wants, he cuts both down and carries them home to his molocca. Neither of them is of such dimensions as to render this either impossible or difficult. He now takes a long slender rod--already prepared for the purpose--and with this pushes out the pith from both stems, just as boys do when preparing their pop-guns from the stems of the elder-tree. The rod thus used is obtained from another species of _Iriartea_ palm, of which the wood is very hard and tough. A little tuft of fern-root, fixed upon the end of the rod, is then drawn backward and forward through the tubes, until both are cleared of any pith which may have adhered to the interior; and both are polished by this process to the smoothness of ivory. The palm of smaller diameter, being scraped to a proper size, is now inserted into the tube of the larger, the object being to correct any crookedness in either, should there be such; and if this does not succeed, both are whipped to some straight beam or post, and thus left till they become straight. One end of the bore, from the nature of the tree, is always smaller than the other; and to this end is fitted a mouthpiece of two peccary tusks to concentrate the breath of the hunter when blowing into the tube. The other end is the muzzle; and near this, on the top, a sight is placed, usually a tooth of the "paca" or some other rodent animal. This sight is glued on with a gum which another tropic tree furnishes. Over the outside, when desirous of giving the weapon an ornamental finish, the maker winds spirally a shining creeper, and then the _pucuna_ is ready for action. Sometimes only a single shank of palm is used, and instead of the pith being pushed out, the stem is split into two equal parts throughout its whole extent. The heart substance being then removed, the two pieces are brought together, like the two divisions of a cedarwood pencil, and tightly bound with a sipo. The _pucuna_ is usually about an inch and a half in diameter at the thickest end, and the bore about equal to that of a pistol of ordinary calibre. In length, however, the weapon varies from eight to twelve feet. This singular instrument is designed, not for propelling a bullet, but an arrow; but as this arrow differs altogether from the common kind it also needs to be described. The blow-gun arrow is about fifteen or eighteen inches long, and is made of a piece of split bamboo; but when the "patawa" palm can be found, this tree furnishes a still better material, in the long spines that grow out from the sheathing bases of its leaves. These are 18 inches in length, of a black colour, flattish though perfectly straight. Being cut to the proper length--which most of them are without cutting--they are whittled at one end to a sharp point. This point is dipped about three inches deep in the celebrated "curare" poison; and just where the poison mark terminates, a notch is made, so that the head will be easily broken off when the arrow is in the wound. Near the other end a little soft down of silky cotton (the floss of the _bombax ceiba_) is twisted around into a smooth mass of the shape of a spinning-top, with its larger end towards the nearer extremity of the arrow. The cotton is held in its place by being lightly whipped on by the delicate thread or fibre of a _bromelia_, and the mass is just big enough to fill the tube by gently pressing it inward. The arrow thus made is inserted, and whenever the game is within reach the Indian places his mouth to the lower end or mouthpiece, and with a strong "puff," which practice enables him to give, he sends the little messenger upon its deadly errand. He can hit with unerring aim at the distance of forty or fifty paces; but he prefers to shoot in a direction nearly vertical, as in that way he can take the surest aim. As his common game--birds and monkeys--are usually perched upon the higher branches of tall trees, their situation just suits him. Of course it is not the mere wound of the arrow that kills these creatures, but the poison, which in two or three minutes after they have been hit, will bring either bird or monkey to the ground. When the latter is struck he would be certain to draw out the arrow; but the notch, already mentioned, provides against this, as the slightest wrench serves to break off the envenomed head. These arrows are dangerous things,--even for the manufacturer of them to play with: they are therefore carried in a quiver, and with great care,--the quiver consisting either of a bamboo joint or a neat wicker case. The weapons of war used by the forest tribes are the common bow and arrows, also tipped with _curare_, and the "macana," or war-club, a species peculiar to South America, made out of the hard heavy wood of the _pissaba_ palm. Only one or two tribes use the spear; and both the "bolas" and lazo are quite unknown, as such weapons would not be available among the trees of the forest. These are the proper arms of the Horse Indian, the dweller on the open plains; but without them, for all war purposes, the forest tribes have weapons enough, and, unfortunately, make a too frequent use of them. CHAPTER THREE. THE WATER-DWELLERS OF MARACAIBO. The Andes mountains, rising in the extreme southern point of South America, not only extend throughout the whole length of that continent, but continue on through Central America and Mexico, under the name of "Cordilleras de Sierra Madre;" and still farther north to the shores of the Arctic Sea, under the very inappropriate appellation of the "Rocky Mountains." You must not suppose that these stupendous mountains form one continuous elevation. At many places they furcate into various branches, throwing off spurs, and sometime parallel "sierras," between which lie wide "valles," or level plains of great extent. It is upon these high plateaux--many of them elevated 7,000 feet above the sea-- that the greater part of the Spanish-American population dwells; and on them too are found most of the large cities of Spanish South America and Mexico. These parallel chains meet at different points, forming what the Peruvians term "nodas" (knots); and, after continuing for a distance in one great cordillera, again bifurcate. One of the most remarkable of these bifurcations of the Andes occurs about latitude 2 degrees North. There the gigantic sierra separates into two great branches, forming a shape like the letter Y, the left limb being that which is usually regarded as the main continuation of these mountains through the Isthmus of Panama, while the right forms the eastern boundary of the great valley of the Magdalena river; and then, trending in an eastwardly direction along the whole northern coast of South America to the extreme point of the promontory of Paria. Each of these limbs again forks into several branches or spurs,--the whole system forming a figure that may be said to bear some resemblance to a genealogical tree containing the pedigree of four or five generations. It is only with one of the bifurcations of the right or eastern sierra that this sketch has to do. On reaching the latitude of 7 degrees north, this chain separates itself into two wings, which, after diverging widely to the east and west, sweep round again towards each other, as if desirous to be once more united. The western wing advances boldly to this reunion; but the eastern, after vacillating for a time, as if uncertain what course to take, turns its back abruptly on its old comrade, and trends off in a due east direction, till it sinks into insignificance upon the promontory of Paria. The whole mass of the sierra, however, has not been of one mind; for, at the time of its indecision, a large spur detaches itself from the main body, and sweeps round, as if to carry out the union with the left wing advancing from the west. Although they get within sight of each other, they are not permitted to meet,--both ending abruptly before the circle is completed, and forming a figure bearing a very exact resemblance to the shoe of a racehorse. Within this curving boundary is enclosed a vast valley,--as large as the whole of Ireland,--the central portion of which, and occupying about one third of its whole extent, is a sheet of water, known from the days of the discovery of America, as the _Lake of Maracaibo_. It obtained this appellation from the name of an Indian cazique, who was met upon its shores by the first discoverers; but although this lake was known to the earliest explorers of the New World,--although it lies contiguous to many colonial settlements both on the mainland and the islands of the Caribbean Sea,--the lake itself and the vast territory that surrounds it, remain almost as unknown and obscure as if they were situated among the central deserts of Africa. And yet the valley of Maracaibo is one of the most interesting portions of the globe,--interesting not only as a _terra incognita_, but on account of the diversified nature of its scenery and productions. It possesses a _fauna_ of a peculiar kind, and its _flora_ is one of the richest in the world, not surpassed,--perhaps not equalled,--by that of any other portion of the torrid zone. To give a list of its vegetable productions would be to enumerate almost every species belonging to tropical America. Here are found the well-known medicinal plants,--the sassafras and sarsaparilla, guaiacum, copaiva, cinchona, and cuspa, or _Cortex Angosturae_; here are the deadly poisons of _barbasco_ and _mavacure_, and alongside them the remedies of the "palo sano," and _mikania guaco_. Here likewise grow plants and trees producing those well-known dyes of commerce, the blue indigo, the red arnotto, the lake-coloured chica, the brazilletto, and dragon's-blood; and above all, those woods of red, gold, and ebon tints, so precious in the eyes of the cabinet and musical-instrument makers of Europe. Yet, strange to say, these rich resources lie, like treasures buried in the bowels of the earth, or gems at the bottom of the sea, still undeveloped. A few small lumbering establishments near the entrance of the lake,--here and there a miserable village, supported by a little coast commerce in dyewoods, or cuttings of ebony,--now and then a hamlet of fishermen,--a "hato" of goats and sheep; and at wider intervals, a "ganaderia" of cattle, or a plantation of cocoa-trees (_cocale_), furnish the only evidence that man has asserted his dominion over this interesting region. These settlements, however, are sparsely distributed, and widely distant from one another. Between them stretch broad savannas and forests,--vast tracts, untitled and even unexplored,--a very wilderness, but a wilderness rich in natural resources. The Lake of Maracaibo is often, though erroneously, described as an arm of the sea. This description only applies to the _Gulf of Maracaibo_, which is in reality a portion of the Caribbean Sea. The lake itself is altogether different, and is a true fresh-water lake, separated from the gulf by a narrow neck or strait. Within this strait--called "boca," or mouth--the salt water does not extend, except during very high tides or after long-continued _nortes_ (north winds), which have the effect of driving the sea-water up into the lake, and imparting to some portions of it a saline or brackish taste. This, however, is only occasional and of temporary continuance; and the waters of the lake, supplied by a hundred streams from the horseshoe sierra that surrounds it, soon return to their normal character of freshness. The shape of Lake Maracaibo is worthy of remark. The main body of its surface is of oval outline,--the longer diameter running north and south,--but taken in connection with the straits which communicate with the outer gulf, it assumes a shape somewhat like that of a Jew's-harp, or rather of a kind of guitar, most in use among Spanish Americans, and known under the name of "mandolin" (or "bandolon"). To this instrument do the natives sometimes compare it. Another peculiarity of Lake Maracaibo, is the extreme shallowness of the water along its shores. It is deep enough towards the middle part; but at many points around the shore, a man may wade for miles into the water, without getting beyond his depth. This peculiarity arises from the formation of the valley in which it is situated. Only a few spurs of the sierras that surround it approach near the edge of the lake. Generally from the bases of the mountains, the land slopes with a very gentle declination,--so slight as to have the appearance of a perfectly horizontal plain,--and this is continued for a great way under the surface of the water. Strange enough, however, after getting to a certain distance from the shore, the shoal water ends as abruptly as the escarpment of a cliff, and a depth almost unfathomable succeeds,--as if the central part of the lake was a vast subaqueous ravine, bounded on both sides by precipitous cliffs. Such, in reality, is it believed to be. A singular phenomenon is observed in the Lake Maracaibo, which, since the days of Columbus, has not only puzzled the Curious, but also the learned and scientific, who have unsuccessfully attempted to explain it. This phenomenon consists in the appearance of a remarkable light, which shows itself in the middle of the night, and at a particular part of the lake, near its southern extremity. This light bears some resemblance to the _ignis fatuus_ of our own marshes; and most probably is a phosphorescence of a similar nature, though on a much grander scale,-- since it is visible at a vast distance across the open water. As it is seen universally in the same direction, and appears fixed in one place, it serves as a beacon for the fishermen and dye-wood traders who navigate the waters of the lake,--its longitude being precisely that of the straits leading outward to the gulf. Vessels that have strayed from their course, often regulate their reckoning by the mysterious "Farol de Maracaibo" (Lantern of Maracaibo),--for by this name is the natural beacon known to the mariners of the lake. Various explanations have been offered to account for this singular phenomenon, but none seem to explain it in a satisfactory manner. It appears to be produced by the exhalations that arise from an extensive marshy tract lying around the mouth of the river Zulia, and above which it universally shows itself. The atmosphere in this quarter is usually hotter than elsewhere, and supposed to be highly charged with electricity; but whatever may be the chemical process which produces the illumination, it acts in a perfectly silent manner. No one has ever observed any explosion to proceed from it, or the slightest sound connected with its occurrence. Of all the ideas suggested by the mention of Lake Maracaibo, perhaps none are so interesting as those that relate to its native inhabitants, whose peculiar habits and modes of life not only astonished the early navigators, but eventually gave its name to the lake itself and to the extensive province in which it is situated. When the Spanish discoverers, sailing around the shores of the gulf, arrived near the entrance of Lake Maracaibo, they saw, to their amazement, not only single houses, but whole villages, apparently floating upon the water! On approaching nearer, they perceived that these houses were raised some feet above the surface, and supported by posts or piles driven into the mud at the bottom. The idea of Venice--that city built upon the sea, to which they had been long accustomed--was suggested by these _superaqueous_ habitations; and the name of _Venezuela_ (Little Venice) was at once bestowed upon the coast, and afterwards applied to the whole province now known as the Republic of Venezuela. Though the "water villages" then observed have long since disappeared, many others of a similar kind were afterwards discovered in Lake Maracaibo itself, some of which are in existence to the present day. Besides here and there an isolated habitation, situated in some bay or "laguna," there are four principal villages upon this plan still in existence, each containing from fifty to a hundred habitations. The inhabitants of some of these villages have been "Christianised," that is, have submitted to the teaching of the Spanish missionaries; and one in particular is distinguished by having its little church--a regular _water_ church--in the centre, built upon piles, just as the rest of the houses are, and only differing from the common dwellings in being larger and of a somewhat more pretentious style. From the belfry of this curious ecclesiastical edifice a brazen bell may be heard at morn and eve tolling the "oracion" and "vespers," and declaring over the wide waters of the lake that the authority of the Spanish monk has replaced the power of the cazique among the Indians of the Lake Maracaibo. Not to all sides of the lake, however, has the cross extended its conquest. Along its western shore roams the fierce unconquered Goajiro, who, a true warrior, still maintains his independence; and even encroaches upon the usurped possessions both of monk and "militario." The _water-dweller_, however, although of kindred race with the Goajiro, is very different, both in his disposition and habits of life. He is altogether a man of peace, and might almost be termed a civilised being,--that is, he follows a regular industrial calling, by which he subsists. This is the calling of a fisherman, and in no part of the world could he follow it with more certainty of success, since the waters which surround his dwelling literally swarm with fish. Lake Maracaibo has been long noted as the resort of numerous and valuable species of the finny tribe, in the capture of which the Indian fisherman finds ample occupation. He is betimes a fowler,--as we shall presently see,--and he also sometimes indulges, though more rarely, in the chase, finding game in the thick forests or on the green savannas that surround the lake, or border the banks of the numerous "riachos" (streams) running into it. On the savanna roams the graceful roebuck and the "venado," or South-American deer, while along the river banks stray the capibara and the stout tapir, undisturbed save by their fierce feline enemies, the puma and spotted jaguar. But hunting excursions are not a habit of the water Indian, whose calling, as already observed, is essentially that of a fisherman and "fowler," and whose subsistence is mainly derived from two kinds of _water-dwellers_, like himself--one with fins, living below the surface, and denominated _fish_; another with wings, usually resting _on_ the surface, and known as _fowl_. These two creatures, of very different kinds and of many different species, form the staple and daily food of the Indian of Maracaibo. In an account of his habits we stall begin by giving a description of the mode in which he constructs his singular dwelling. Like other builders he begins by selecting the site. This must be a place where the water is of no great depth; and the farther from the shore he can find a shallow spot the better for his purpose, for he has a good reason for desiring to get to a distance from the shore, as we shall presently see. Sometimes a sort of subaqueous island, or elevated sandbank, is found, which gives him the very site he is in search of. Having pitched upon the spot, his next care is to procure a certain number of tree-trunks of the proper length and thickness to make "piles." Not every kind of timber will serve for this purpose, for there are not many sorts that would long resist decay and the wear and tear of the water insects, with which the lake abounds. Moreover, the building of one of these aquatic houses, although it be only a rude hut, is a work of time and labour, and it is desirable therefore to make it as permanent as possible. For this reason great care is taken in the selection of the timber for the "piles." But it so chances that the forests around the lake furnish the very thing itself, in the wood of a tree known to the _Spanish inhabitants_ as the "vera," of "palo sano," and to the natives as "guaiac." It is one of the zygophyls of the genus _Guaiacum_, of which there are many species, called by the names of "iron-wood" or "lignum-vitae;" but the species in question is the _tree_ lignum-vitae (_Guaiacum arboreum_), which attains to a height of 100 feet, with a fine umbrella-shaped head, and bright orange flowers. Its wood is so hard, that it will turn the edge of an axe, and the natives believe that if it be buried for a sufficient length of time under the earth it will turn to iron! Though this belief is not literally true, as regards the _iron_, it is not so much of an exaggeration as might be supposed. The "palo de fierro," when buried in the soil of Maracaibo or immersed in the waters of the lake, in reality does undergo a somewhat similar metamorphose; in other words, it turns into stone; and the petrified trunks of this wood are frequently met with along the shores of the lake. What is still more singular--the piles of the water-houses often become petrified, so that the dwelling no longer rests upon wooden posts, but upon real columns of stone! Knowing all this by experience, the Indian selects the guaiac for his uprights, cuts them of the proper length; and then, launching them in the water, transports them to the site of his dwelling, and fixes them in their places. Upon this a platform is erected, out of split boards of some less ponderous timber, usually the "ceiba," or "silk-cotton tree" (_Bombax ceiba_), or the "cedro negro" (_Cedrela odorata_) of the order _Meliaceae_. Both kinds grow in abundance upon the shores of the lake,--and the huge trunks of the former are also used by the water Indian for the constructing of his canoe. The platform, or floor, being thus established, about two or three feet above the surface of the water, it then only remains to erect, the walls and cover them over with a roof. The former are made of the slightest materials,--light saplings or bamboo poles,--usually left open at the interstices. There is no winter or cold weather here,--why should the walls be thick? There are heavy rains, however, at certain seasons of the year, and these require to be guarded against; but this is not a difficult matter, since the broad leaves of the "enea" and "vihai" (a species of _Heliconia_) serve the purpose of a roof just as well as tiles, slates, or shingles. Nature in these parts is bountiful, and provides her human creatures with a spontaneous supply of every want. Even ropes and cords she furnishes, for binding the beams, joists, and rafters together, and holding on the thatch against the most furious assaults of the wind. The numerous species of creeping and twining plants ("llianas" or "sipos") serve admirably for this purpose. They are applied in their green state, and when contracted by exsiccation draw the timbers as closely together as if held by spikes of iron. In this manner and of such materials does the water Indian build his house. Why he inhabits such a singular dwelling is a question that requires to be answered. With the _terra firma_ close at hand, and equally convenient for all purposes of his calling, why does he not build his hut there? So much easier too of access would it be, for he could then approach it either by land or by water; whereas, in its present situation, he can neither go away from his house or get back to it without the aid of his "periagua" (canoe). Moreover, by building on the beach, or by the edge of the woods, he would spare himself the labour of transporting those heavy piles and setting them in their places,--a work, as already stated, of no ordinary magnitude. Is it for personal security against human enemies,--for this sometimes drives a people to seek singular situations for their homes? No; the Indian of Maracaibo has his human foes, like all other people; but it is none of these that have forced him to adopt this strange custom. Other enemies? wild beasts? the dreaded jaguar, perhaps? No, nothing of this kind. And yet it is in reality a living creature that drives him to this resource,-- that has forced him to flee from the mainland and take to the water for security against its attack,--a creature of such small dimensions, and apparently so contemptible in its strength, that you will no doubt smile at the idea of its putting a strong man to flight,--a little insect exactly the size of an English gnat, and no bigger, but so formidable by means of its poisonous bite, and its myriads of numbers, as to render many parts of the shores of Lake Maracaibo quite uninhabitable. You guess, no doubt, the insect to which I allude? You cannot fail to recognise it as the _mosquito_? Just so; it is the mosquito I mean, and in no part of South America do these insects abound in greater numbers, and nowhere are they more bloodthirsty than upon the borders of this great fresh-water sea. Not only one species of mosquito, but all the varieties known as "jejens," "zancudos," and "tempraneros," here abound in countless multitudes,--each kind making its appearance at a particular hour of the day or night,--"mounting guard" (as the persecuted natives say of them) in turn, and allowing only short intervals of respite from their bitter attacks. Now, it so happens, that although the various kinds of mosquitoes are peculiarly the productions of a marshy or watery region,--and rarely found where the soil is high and dry,--yet as rarely do they extend their excursions to a distance from the land. They delight to dwell under the shadow of leaves, or near the herbage of grass, plants, or trees, among which they were hatched. They do not stray far from the shore, and only when the breeze carries them do they fly out over the open water. Need I say more? You have now the explanation why the Indians of Maracaibo build their dwellings upon the water. It is simply to escape from the "plaga de moscas" (the pest of the flies). Like most other Indians of tropical America, and some even of colder latitudes, those of Maracaibo go naked, wearing only the _guayueo_, or "waist-belt." Those of them, however, who have submitted to the authority of the monks, have adopted a somewhat more modest garb,-- consisting of a small apron of cotton or palm fibre, suspended from the waist, and reaching down to their knees. We have already stated, that the water-dwelling Indian is a fisherman, and that the waters of the lake supply him with numerous kinds of fish of excellent quality. An account of these, with the method employed in capturing them, may not prove uninteresting. First, there is the fish known as "liza," a species of skate. It is of a brilliant silvery hue, with bluish corruscations. It is a small fish, being only about a foot in length, but is excellent to eat, and when preserved by drying, forms an article of commerce with the West-Indian islands. Along the coasts of Cumana and Magarita, there are many people employed in the _pesca de liza_ (skate-fishery); but although the liza is in reality a sea fish, it abounds in the fresh waters of Maracaibo, and is there also an object of industrial pursuit. It is usually captured by seines, made out of the fibres of the _cocui aloe_ (_agave cocuiza_), or of cords obtained from the unexpanded leaflets of the moriche palm (_Mauritia flexuosa_), both of which useful vegetable products are indigenous to this region. The roe of the liza, when dried in the sun, is an article in high estimation, and finds its way into the channels of commerce. A still more delicate fish is the "pargo." It is of a white colour tinged with rose; and of these great numbers are also captured. So, too, with the "doncella," one of the most beautiful species, as its pretty name of "doncella" (young maiden) would indicate. These last are so abundant in some parts of the lake, that one of its bays is distinguished by the name of _Laguna de Doncella_. A large, ugly fish, called the "vagre," with an enormous head and wide mouth, from each side of which stretches a beard-like appendage, is also an object of the Indian's pursuit. It is usually struck with a spear, or killed by arrows, when it shows itself near the surface of the water. Another monstrous creature, of nearly circular shape, and full three feet in diameter, is the "carite," which is harpooned in a similar fashion. Besides these there is the "viegita," or "old-woman fish," which itself feeds upon lesser creatures of the finny tribe, and especially upon the smaller species of shell-fish. It has obtained its odd appellation from a singular noise which it gives forth, and which resembles the voice of an old woman debilitated with extreme age. The "dorado," or gilded fish--so called on account of its beautiful colour--is taken by a hook, with no other bait attached than a piece of white rag. This, however, must be kept constantly in motion, and the bait is played by simply paddling the canoe over the surface of the lake, until the dorado, attracted by the white meteor, follows in its track, and eventually hooks itself. Many other species of fish are taken by the water-Indians, as the "lebranche" which goes in large "schools," and makes its breeding-place in the lagunas and up the rivers, and the "guabina," with several kinds of sardines that find their way into the tin boxes of Europe; for the Maracaibo fisherman is not contented with an exclusive fish diet. He likes a little "casava," or maize-bread, along with it; besides, he has a few other wants to satisfy, and the means he readily obtains in exchange for the surplus produce of his nets, harpoons, and arrows. We have already stated that he is a fowler. At certain seasons of the year this is essentially his occupation. The fowling season with him is the period of northern winter, when the migratory aquatic birds come down from the boreal regions of Prince Rupert's Land to disport their bodies in the more agreeable waters of Lake Maracaibo. There they assemble in large flocks, darkening the air with their myriads of numbers, now fluttering over the lake, or, at other times, seated on its surface silent and motionless. Notwithstanding their great numbers, however, they are too shy to be approached near enough for the "carry" of an Indian arrow, or a gun either; and were it not for a very cunning stratagem which the Indian has adopted for their capture, they might return again to their northern haunts without being minus an individual of their "count." But they are not permitted to depart thus unscathed. During their sojourn within the limits of Lake Maracaibo their legions get considerably thinned, and thousands of them that settle down upon its inviting waters are destined never more to take wing. To effect their capture, the Indian fowler, as already stated, makes use of a very ingenious stratagem. Something similar is described as being practised in other parts of the world; but in no place is it carried to such perfection as upon the Lake Maracaibo. The fowler first provides himself with a number of large gourd-shells of roundish form, and each of them at least as big as his own skull. These he can easily obtain, either from the herbaceous squash (_Cucurbita lagenaris_) or from the calabash tree (_Crescentia cujete_), both of which grow luxuriantly on the shores of the lake. Filling his periagua with these, he proceeds out into the open water to a certain distance from the land, or from his own dwelling. The distance is regulated by several considerations. He must reach a place which, at all hours of the day, the ducks and other waterfowl are not afraid to frequent; and, on the other hand, he must not go beyond such a depth as will bring the water higher than his own chin when wading through it. This last consideration is not of so much importance, for the water Indian can swim almost as well as a duck, and dive like one, if need be; but it is connected with another matter of greater importance--the convenience of having the birds as near as possible, to save him a too long and wearisome "wade." It is necessary to have them so near, that at all hours they may be under his eye. Having found the proper situation, which the vast extent of shoal water (already mentioned) enables him to do, he proceeds to carry out his design by dropping a gourd here and another there, until a large space of surface is covered by these floating shells. Each gourd has a stone attached to it by means of a string, which, resting upon the bottom, brings the buoy to an anchor, and prevents it from being drifted into the deeper water or carried entirely away. When his decoys are all placed, the Indian paddles back to his platform dwelling, and there, with watchful eye, awaits the issue. The birds are at first shy of these round yellow objects intruded upon their domain; but, as the hours pass, and they perceive no harm in them, they at length take courage and venture to approach. Urged by that curiosity which is instinctive in every creature, they gradually draw nigher and nigher, until at length they boldly venture into the midst of the odd objects and examine them minutely. Though puzzled to make out what it is all meant for, they can perceive no harm in the yellow globe-shaped things that only bob about, but make no attempt to do them any injury. Thus satisfied, their curiosity soon wears off, and the birds no longer regarding the floating shells as objects of suspicion, swim freely about through their midst, or sit quietly on the water side by side with them. But the crisis has now arrived when it is necessary the Indian should act, and for this he speedily equips himself. He first ties a stout rope around his waist, to which are attached many short strings or cords. He then draws over his head a large gourd-shell, which, fitting pretty tightly, covers his whole skull, reaching down to his neck. This shell is exactly similar to the others already floating on the water, with the exception of having three holes on one side of it, two on the same level with the Indian's eyes, and the third opposite his mouth, intended to serve him for a breathing-hole. He is now ready for work; and, thus oddly accoutred, he slips quietly down from his platform, and laying himself along the water, swims gently in the direction of the ducks. He swims only where the water is too shallow to prevent him from crouching below the surface; for were he to stand upright, and wade,-- even though he were still distant from them,--the shy birds might have suspicions about his after-approaches. When he reaches a point where the lake is sufficiently deep, he gets upon his feet and wades, still keeping his shoulders below the surface. He makes his advance very slowly and warily, scarce raising a ripple on the surface of the placid lake, and the nearer he gets to his intended victims he proceeds with the greater caution. The unsuspecting birds see the destroyer approach without having the slightest misgiving of danger. They fancy that the new comer is only another of those inanimate objects by their side--another gourd-shell drifting out upon the water to join its companions. They have no suspicion that this wooden counterfeit--like the horse of Troy--is inhabited by a terrible enemy. Poor things! how could they? A stratagem so well contrived would deceive more rational intellects than theirs; and, in fact, having no idea of danger, they perhaps do not trouble themselves even to notice the new arrival. Meanwhile the gourd has drifted silently into their midst, and is seen approaching the odd individuals, first one and afterwards another, as if it had some special business with each. This business appears to be of a very mysterious character; and in each case is abruptly brought to a conclusion, by the duck making a sudden dive under the water,--not head foremost, according to its usual practice, but in the reverse way, as if jerked down by the feet, and so rapidly that the creature has not time to utter a single "quack." After quite a number of individuals have disappeared in this mysterious manner, the others sometimes grow suspicious of the moving calabash, and either take to wing, or swim off to a less dangerous neighbourhood; but if the gourd performs its office in a skilful manner, it will be seen passing several times to and fro between the birds and the water village before this event takes place. On each return trip, when far from the flock, and near the habitations, it will be seen to rise high above the surface of the water. It will then be perceived that it covers the skull of a copper-coloured savage, around whose hips may be observed a double tier of dead ducks dangling by their necks from the rope upon his waist, and forming a sort of plumed skirt, the weight of which almost drags its wearer back into the water. Of course a capture is followed by a feast; and during the fowling season of the year the Maracaibo Indian enjoys roast-duck at discretion. He does not trouble his head much about the green peas, nor is he particular to have his ducks stuffed with sage and onions; but a hot seasoning of red pepper is one of the indispensible ingredients of the South-American _cuisine_; and this he usually obtains from a small patch of capsicum which he cultivates upon the adjacent shore; or, if he be not possessed of land, he procures it by barter, exchanging his fowls or fish for that and a little maize or manioc flour, furnished by the coast-traders. The Maracaibo Indian is not a stranger to commerce. He has been "Christianised,"--to use the phraseology of his priestly proselytiser,-- and this has introduced him to new wants and necessities. Expenses that in his former pagan state were entirely unknown to him, have now become necessary, and a commercial effort is required to meet them. The Church must have its dues. Such luxuries as being baptised, married, and buried, are not to be had without expense, and the padre takes good care that none of these shall be had for nothing. He has taught his proselyte to believe that unless all these rites have been officially performed there is pot the slightest chance for him in the next world; and under the influence of this delusion, the simple savage willingly yields up his tenth, his fifth, or, perhaps it would be more correct to say, his all. Between fees of baptism and burial, mulcts for performance of the marriage rite, contributions towards the shows and ceremonies of _dias de fiesta_, extravagant prices for blessed beads, leaden crucifixes, and images of patron saints, the poor Christianised Indian is compelled to part with nearly the whole of his humble gains; and the fear of not being able to pay for Christian burial after death, is often one of the torments of his life. To satisfy the numerous demands of the Church, therefore, he is forced into a little action in the commercial line. With the water-dweller of Maracaibo, fish forms one of the staples of export trade,--of course in the preserved state, as he is too distant from any great town or metropolis to be able to make market of them while fresh. He understands, however, the mode of curing them,--which he accomplishes by sun-drying and smoking,--and, thus prepared, they are taken off his hands by the trader, who carries them all over the West Indies, where, with boiled rice, they form the staple food of thousands of the dark-skinned children of Ethiopia. The Maracaibo Indian, however, has still another resource, which occasionally supplies him with an article of commercial export. His country--that is, the adjacent shores of the lake--produces the finest _caoutchouc_. There the India-rubber tree, of more than one species, flourishes in abundance; and the true "seringa," that yields the finest and most valuable kind of this gummy juice, is nowhere found in greater perfection than in the forests of Maracaibo. The caoutchouc of commerce is obtained from many other parts of America, as well as from other tropical countries; but as many of the bottles and shoes so well-known in the india-rubber shops, are manufactured by the Indians of Maracaibo, we may not find a more appropriate place to give an account of this singular production, and the mode by which it is prepared for the purposes of commerce and manufacture. As already mentioned, many species of trees yield india-rubber, most of them belonging either to the order of the "Morads," or _Euphorbiaceae_. Some are species of _ficus_, but both the genera and species are too numerous to be given here. That which supplies the "bottle india-rubber" is a euphorbiaceous plant,--the _seringa_ above mentioned,--whose proper botanical appellation is _Siphonia elastica_. It is a tall, straight, smooth-barked tree, having a trunk of about a foot in diameter, though in favourable situations reaching to much larger dimensions. The process of extracting its sap--out of which the caoutchouc is manufactured--bears some resemblance to the tapping of sugar-maples in the forests of the north. With his small hatchet, or tomahawk, the Indian cuts a gash in the bark, and inserts into it a little wedge of wood to keep the sides apart. Just under the gash, he fixes a small cup-shaped vessel of clay, the clay being still in a plastic state, so that it may be attached closely to the bark. Into this vessel the milk-like sap of the _seringa_ soon commences to run, and keeps on until it has yielded about the fifth of a pint. This, however, is not the whole yield of a tree, but only of a single wound; and it is usual to open a great many gashes, or "taps," upon the same trunk, each being furnished with its own cup or receiver. In from four to six hours the sap ceases to run. The cups are then detached from the tree, and the contents of all, poured into a large earthen vessel, are carried to the place where the process of making the caoutchouc is to take place,--usually some dry open spot in the middle of the forest, where a temporary camp has been formed for the purpose. When the dwelling of the Indian is at a distance from where the india-rubber tree grows,--as is the case with those of Lake Maracaibo,-- it will not do to transport the sap thither. There must be no delay after the cups are filled, and the process of manufacture must proceed at once, or as soon as the milky juice begins to coagulate,--which it does almost on the instant. Previous to reaching his camp, the "seringero" has provided a large quantity of palm-nuts, with which he intends to make a fire for smoking the caoutchouc. These nuts are the fruit of several kinds of palms, but the best are those afforded by two magnificent species,--the "Inaja" (_Maximiliana regia_), and the "Urucuri" (_Attalea excelsa_). A fire is kindled of these nuts; and an earthen pot, with a hole in the bottom, is placed mouth downward over the pile. Through the aperture now rises a strong pungent smoke. If it is a shoe that is intended to be made, a clay last is already prepared, with a stick standing out of the top of it, to serve as a handle, while the operation is going on. Taking the stick in his hand, the seringero dips the last lightly into the milk, or with a cup pours the fluid gently over it, so as to give a regular coating to the whole surface; and then, holding it over the smoke, he keeps turning it, jack-fashion, till the fluid has become dry and adhesive. Another dip is then given, and the smoking done as before; and this goes on, till forty or fifty different coats have brought the sides and soles of the shoe to a proper thickness. The soles, requiring greater weight, are, of course, oftener dipped than the "upper leather." The whole process of making the shoe does not occupy half an hour; but it has afterwards to receive some farther attention in the way of ornament; the lines and figures are yet to be executed, and this is done about two days after the smoking process. They are simply traced out with a piece of smooth wire, or oftener with the spine obtained from some tree,--as the thorny point of the _bromelia_ leaf. In about a week the shoes are ready to be taken from the last; and this is accomplished at the expense and utter ruin of the latter, which is broken into fragments, and then cleaned out. Water is used sometimes to soften the last, and the inner surface of the shoe is washed after the clay has been taken out. Bottles are made precisely in the same manner,--a round ball, or other shaped mass of clay, serving as the mould for their construction. It requires a little more trouble to get the mould extracted from the narrow neck of the bottle. It may be remarked that it is not the smoke of the palm-nuts that gives to the india-rubber its peculiar dark colour; that is the effect of age. When freshly manufactured, it is still of a whitish or cream colour; and only attains the dark hue after it has been kept for a considerable time. We might add many other particulars about the mode in which the Indian of Maracaibo employs his time, but perhaps enough has been said to show that his existence is altogether an _odd_ one. CHAPTER FOUR. THE ESQUIMAUX. The Esquimaux are emphatically an "odd people," perhaps the oddest upon the earth. The peculiar character of the regions they inhabit has naturally initiated them into a system of habits and modes of life different from those of any other people on the face of the globe; and from the remoteness and inaccessibility of the countries in which they dwell, not only have they remained an unmixed people, but scarce any change has taken place in their customs and manners during the long period since they were first known to civilised nations. The Esquimaux people have been long known and their habits often described. Our first knowledge of them was obtained from Greenland,-- for the native inhabitants of Greenland are true Esquimaux,--and hundreds of years ago accounts of them were given to the world by the Danish colonists and missionaries--and also by the whalers who visited the coasts of that inhospitable land. In later times they have been made familiar to us through the Arctic explorers and whale-fishers, who have traversed the labyrinth of icy islands that extend northward from the continent of America. The Esquimaux may boast of possessing the longest country in the world. In the first place, Greenland is theirs, and they are found along the western shores of Baffin's Bay. In North America proper their territory commences at the straits of Belle Isle, which separate Newfoundland from Labrador, and thence extends all around the shore of the Arctic Ocean, not only to Behring's Straits, but beyond these, around the Pacific coast of Russian America, as far south as the great mountain Saint Elias. Across Behring's Straits they are found occupying a portion of the Asiatic coast, under the name of Tchutski, and some of the islands in the northern angle of the Pacific Ocean are also inhabited by these people, though under a different name. Furthermore, the numerous ice islands which lie between North America and the Pole are either inhabited or visited by Esquimaux to the highest point that discovery has yet reached. There can be little doubt that the Laplanders of northern Europe, and the Samoyedes, and other littoral peoples dwelling along the Siberian shores, are kindred races of the Esquimaux; and taking this view of the question, it may be said that the latter possess all the line of coast of both continents facing northward; in other words, that their country extends around the globe--though it cannot be said (as is often boastingly declared of the British empire) that "the sun never sets upon it;" for, over the "empire" of the Esquimaux, the sun not only sets, but remains out of sight of it for months at a time. It is not usual, however, to class the Laplanders and _Asiatic Arctic_ people with the Esquimaux. There are some essential points of difference; and what is here said of the Esquimaux relates only to those who inhabit the northern coasts and islands of America, and to the native Greenlanders. Notwithstanding the immense extent of territory thus designated, notwithstanding the sparseness of the Esquimaux population, and the vast distances by which one little tribe or community is separated from another, the absolute similarity in their habits, in their physical and intellectual conformation, and, above all, in their languages, proves incontestably that they are all originally of one and the same race. Whatever, therefore, may be said of a "Schelling," or native Greenlander, will be equally applicable to an Esquimaux of Labrador, to an Esquimaux of the Mackenzie River or Behring's Straits, or we might add, to a Khadiak islander, or a Tuski of the opposite Asiatic coast; always taking into account such differences of costume, dialect, modes of life, etc, as may be brought about by the different circumstances in which they are placed. In all these things, however, they are wonderfully alike; their dresses, weapons, boats, houses, and house implements, being almost the same in material and construction from East Greenland to the Tchutskoi Noss. If their country be the longest in the world, it is also the _narrowest_. Of course, if we take into account the large islands that thickly stud the Arctic Ocean, it may be deemed broad enough; but I am speaking rather of the territory which they possess on the continents. This may be regarded as a mere strip following the outline of the coast, and never extending beyond the distance of a day's journey inland. Indeed, they only seek the interior in the few short weeks of summer, for the purpose of hunting the reindeer, the musk-ox, and other animals; after each excursion, returning again to the shores of the sea, where they have their winter-houses and more permanent home. They are, truly and emphatically, a _littoral_ people, and it is to the sea they look for their principal means of support. But for this source of supply, they could not long continue to exist upon land altogether incapable of supplying the wants even of the most limited population. The name _Esquimaux_--or, as it is sometimes written, "Eskimo,"--like many other national appellations, is of obscure origin. It is supposed to have been given to them by the Canadian voyageurs in the employ of the Hudson's Bay Company, and derived from the words _Ceux qui miaux_ (those who mew), in relation to their screaming like cats. But the etymology is, to say the least, _suspicious_. They generally call themselves "Inuit" (pronounced enn-oo-eet), a word which signifies "men;"--though different tribes of them have distinct tribal appellations. In personal appearance they cannot be regarded as at all prepossessing-- though some of the younger men and girls, when cleansed of the filth and grease with which their skin is habitually coated, are far from ill-looking. Their natural colour is not much darker than that of some of the southern nations of Europe--the Portuguese, for instance--and the young girls often have blooming cheeks, and a pleasing expression of countenance. Their faces are generally of a broad, roundish shape, the forehead and chin both narrow and receding, and the cheeks very prominent, though not angular. On the contrary, they are rather fat and round. This prominence of the cheeks gives to their nose the appearance of being low and flat; and individuals are often seen with such high cheeks, that a ruler laid from one to the other would not touch the bridge of the nose between them! As they grow older their complexion becomes darker, perhaps from exposure to the climate. Very naturally, too, both men and women grow uglier, but especially the latter, some of whom in old age present such a hideous aspect, that the early Arctic explorers could not help characterising them as _witches_. The average stature of the Esquimaux is far below that of European nations, though individuals are sometimes met with nearly six feet in height. These, however, are rare exceptions; and an Esquimaux of such proportions would be a giant among his people. The more common height is from four feet eight inches to five feet eight; and the women are still shorter, rarely attaining the standard of five feet. The shortness of both men and women appears to be a deficiency in length of limb, for their bodies are long enough; but, as the Esquimaux is almost constantly in his canoe, or "kayak," or upon his dog-sledge, his legs have but little to do, and are consequently stunted in their development. A similar peculiarity is presented by the Comanche, and other Indians of the prairies, and also in the Guachos and Patagonian Indians, of the South-American Pampas, who spend most of their time on the backs of their horses. The Esquimaux have no religion, unless we dignify by that name a belief in witches, sorcerers, "Shamans," and good or evil spirits, with, some confused notion of a good and bad place hereafter. Missionary zeal has been exerted among them almost in vain. They exhibit an apathetic indifference to the teachings of Christianity. Neither have they any political organisation; and in this respect they differ essentially from most savages known, the lowest of whom have usually their chiefs and councils of elders. This absence of all government, however, is no proof of their being lower in the scale of civilisation than other savages; but, perhaps, rather the contrary, for the very idea of chiefdom, or government, is a presumption of the existence of vice among a people, and the necessity of coercion and repression. To one another these rude people are believed to act in the most honest manner; and it could be shown that such was likewise their behaviour towards strangers until they were corrupted by excessive temptation. All Arctic voyagers record instances of what they term petty theft, on the part of certain tribes of Esquimaux,--that is, the pilfering of nails, hatchets, pieces of iron-hoops, etc,--but it might be worth while reflecting that these articles are, in the eyes of the Esquimaux, what ingots of gold are are to Europeans, and worth while inquiring if a few bars of the last-mentioned metal were laid loosely and carelessly upon the pavements of London, how long they would be in changing their owners? Theft should be regarded along with the amount of temptation; and it appears even in these recorded cases that only a few of the Esquimaux took part in it. I apprehend that something more than a few Londoners would be found picking up the golden ingots. How many thieves have we among us, with no greater temptation than a cheap cotton kerchief?--more than a few, it is to be feared. In truth, the Esquimaux are by no means the savages they have been represented. The only important point in which they at all assimilate to the purely savage state is in the filthiness of their persons, and perhaps also in the fact of their eating much of their food (fish and flesh-meat) in a raw state. For the latter habit, however, they are partially indebted to the circumstances in which they are placed--fires or cookery being at times altogether impossible. They are not the only people who have been forced to eat raw flesh; and Europeans who have travelled in that inhospitable country soon get used to the practice, at the same time getting quite cured of their _degout_ for it. It is certainly not correct to characterise the Esquimaux as mere _savages_. On the contrary, they may be regarded as a civilised people, that is, so far as civilisation is permitted by the rigorous climate in which they live; and it would be safe to affirm that a colony of the most polished people in Europe, established as the Esquimaux are, and left solely to their own resources, would in a single generation exhibit a civilisation not one degree higher than that now met with among the Esquimaux. Indeed, the fact is already established: the Danish and Norwegian colonists of West Greenland, though backed by constant intercourse with their mother-land, are but little more civilised than the "Skellings," who are their neighbours. In reality, the Esquimaux have made the most of the circumstances in which they are placed, and continue to do so. Among them _agriculture_ is impossible, else they would long since have taken to it. So too is commerce; and as to manufactures, it is doubtful whether Europeans could excel them under like circumstances. Whatever raw material their country produces, is by them both strongly and neatly fabricated, as indicated by the surprising skill with which they make their dresses, their boats, their implements for hunting and fishing; and in these accomplishments--the only ones practicable under their hyperborean heaven--they are perfect adepts. In such arts civilised Europeans are perfect simpletons to them, and the theories of fireside speculators, so lately promulgated in our newspapers, that Sir John Franklin and his crew could not fail to procure a living where the simple Esquimaux were able to make a home, betrayed only ignorance of the condition of these people. In truth, white men would starve, where the Esquimaux could live in luxurious abundance, so far superior to ours is their knowledge both of fishing and the chase. It is a well-recorded fact, that while our Arctic voyagers, at their winter stations, provided with good guns, nets, and every appliance, could but rarely kill a reindeer or capture a seal, the Esquimaux obtained both in abundance, and apparently without an effort; and we shall presently note the causes of their superiority in this respect. The very dress of the Esquimaux is a proof of their superiority over other savages. At no season of the year do they go either naked, or even "ragged." They have their changes to suit the seasons,--their summer dress, and one of a warmer kind for winter. Both are made in a most complicated manner; and the preparation of the material, as well as the manner by which it is put together, prove the Esquimaux women--for they are alike the tailors and dressmakers--to be among the best seamstresses in the world. Captain Lyon, one of the most observant of Arctic voyagers, has given a description of the costume of the Esquimaux of Savage Island, and those of Repulse Bay, where he wintered, and his account is so graphic and minute in details, that it would be idle to alter a word of his language. His description, with slight differences in make and material, will answer pretty accurately for the costume of the whole race. "The clothes of both sexes are principally composed of fine and well-prepared reindeer pelts; the skins of bears, seals, wolves, foxes, and marmottes, are also used. The sealskins are seldom employed for any part of the dress except boots and shoes, as being more capable of resisting water, and of far greater durability than other leather. "The general winter dress of the men is an ample outer coat of deer-skin, having no opening in front, and a large hood, which is drawn over the head at pleasure. This hood is invariably bordered with white fur from the thighs of the deer, and thus presents a lively contrast to the dark face which it encircles. The front or belly part of the coat is cut off square with the upper part of the thighs, but behind it is formed into a broad skirt, rounded at the lower end, which reaches to within a few inches of the ground. The lower edges and tails of these dresses are in some cases bordered with bands of fur of an opposite colour to the body; and it is a favourite ornament to hang a fringe of little strips of skin beneath the border. The embellishments give a very pleasing appearance to the dress. It is customary in blowing weather to tie a piece of skin or cord tight round the waist of the coat; but in other cases the dress hangs loose. "Within the covering I have just described is another, of precisely the same form; but though destitute of ornaments of leather, it has frequently little strings of beads hanging to it from the shoulders or small of the back. This dress is of thinner skin, and acts as a shirt, the hairy part being placed near the body: it is the indoors habit. When walking, the tail is tied up by two strings to the back, so that it may not incommode the legs. Besides these two coats, they have also a large cloak, or, in fact, an open deer-skin, with sleeves: this, from its size, is more frequently used as a blanket; and I but once saw it worn by a man at the ship, although the women throw it over their shoulders to shelter themselves and children while sitting on the sledge. "The trowsers, which are tightly tied round the loins, have no waistbands, but depend entirely by the drawing-string; they are generally of deer-skin, and ornamented in the same manner as the coats. One of the most favourite patterns is an arrangement of the skins of deer's legs, so as to form very pretty stripes. As with the jackets, there are two pair of these indispensables, reaching no lower than the knee-cap, which is a cause of great distress in cold weather, as that part is frequently severely frost-bitten; yet, with all their experience of this bad contrivance, they will not add an inch to the established length. "The boots reach to the bottom of the breeches, which hang loosely over them. In these, as in other parts of the dress, are many varieties of colour, material, and pattern, yet in shape they never vary. The general winter boots are of deer-skin; one having the hair next the leg, and the other with the fur outside. A pair of soft slippers of the same kind are worn between the two pair of boots, and outside of all a strong sealskin shoe is pulled to the height of the ankle, where it is tightly secured by a drawing-string. For hunting excursions, or in summer when the country is thawed, one pair of boots only is worn. They are of sealskin, and so well sewed and prepared without the hair, that although completely saturated, they allow no water to pass through them. The soles are generally of the tough hide of the walrus, or of the large seal called Oo-ghioo, so that the feet are well protected in walking over rough ground. Slippers are sometimes worn outside. In both cases the boots are tightly fastened round the instep with a thong of leather. The mittens in common use are of deer-skin, with the hair inside; but, in fact, every kind of skin is used for them. They are extremely comfortable when dry; but if once wetted and frozen again, in the winter afford as little protection to the hands as a case of ice would do. In summer, and in fishing, excellent sealskin mittens are used, and have the same power of resisting water as the boots of which I have just spoken. The dresses I have just described are chiefly used in winter. During the summer it is customary to wear coats, boots, and even breeches, composed of the prepared skins of ducks, with the feathers next the body. These are comfortable, light, and easily prepared. The few ornaments in their possession are worn by the men. These are some bandeaus which encircle the head, and are composed of various-coloured leather, plaited in a mosaic pattern, and in some cases having human hair woven in them, as a contrast to the white skins. From the lower edge foxes' teeth hang suspended, arranged as a fringe across the forehead. Some wear a musk-ox tooth, a bit of ivory, or a small piece of bone. "The clothing of the women is of the same materials as that of the men, but in shape almost every part is different from the male dress. An inner jacket is worn next the skin, and the fur of the other is outside. The hind-flap, or tail, is of the same form before described, but there is also a small flap in front, extending about halfway down the thigh. The coats have each an immense hood, which, as well as covering the head, answers the purpose of a child's cradle for two or three years after the birth of an infant. In order to keep the burden of the child from drawing the dress tight across the throat, a contrivance, in a great measure resembling the slings of a soldier's knapsack, is affixed to the collar or neck part, whence it passes beneath the hood, crosses, and, being brought under the arms, is secured on each side the breast by a wooden button. The shoulders of the women's coat have a bag-like space, for the purpose of facilitating the removal of the child from the hood round to the breast without taking it out of the jacket. "A girdle is sometimes worn round the waist: it answers the double purposes of comfort and ornament; being composed of what they consider valuable trinkets, such as foxes' bones (those of the rableeaghioo), or sometimes of the ears of deer, which hang in pairs to the number of twenty or thirty, and are trophies of the skill of the hunter, to whom the wearer is allied. The inexpressibles of the women are in the some form as those of the men, but they are not ornamented by the same curious arrangement of colours; the front part is generally of white, and the back of dark fur. The manner of securing them at the waist is also the same; but the drawing-strings are of much greater length, being suffered to hang down by one side, and their ends are frequently ornamented with some pendent jewel, such as a grinder or two of the musk-ox, a piece of ivory, a small ball of wood, or a perforated stone. "The boots of the fair sex are, without dispute, the most extraordinary part of their equipment, and are of such an immense size as to resemble leather sacks, and to give a most deformed, and, at the same time, ludicrous appearance to the whole figure, the bulky part being at the knee; the upper end is formed into a pointed flap, which, covering the front of the thigh, is secured by a button or knot within the waistband of the breeches. "Some of these ample articles of apparel are composed with considerable taste, of various-coloured skins; they also have them of parchment,-- seals' leather. Two pairs are worn; and the feet have also a pair of sealskin slippers, which fit close, and are tightly tied round the ankle. "Children have no kind of clothing, but lie naked in their mothers' hoods until two or three years of age, when they are stuffed into a little dress, generally of fawn-skin, which has jacket and breeches in one, the back part being open; into these they are pushed, when a string or two closes all up again. A cap forms an indispensable part of the equipment, and is generally of some fantastical shape; the skin of a fawn's head is a favourite material in the composition, and is sometimes seen with the ears perfect; the nose and holes for the eyes lying along the crown of the wearer's head, which in consequence, looks like that of an animal." The same author also gives a most graphic description of the curious winter dwellings of the Esquimaux, which on many parts of the coast are built out of the only materials to be had,--_ice and snow_! Snow for the walls and ice for the windows! you might fancy the house of the Esquimaux to be a very cold dwelling; such, however, is by no means its character. "The entrance to the dwellings," says Captain Lyon, "was by a hole, about a yard in diameter, which led through a low-arched passage of sufficient breadth for two to pass in a stooping posture, and about sixteen feet in length; another hole then presented itself, and led through a similarly-shaped, but shorter passage, having at its termination a round opening, about two feet across. Up this hole we crept one step, and found ourselves in a dome about seven feet in height, and as many in diameter, from whence the three dwelling-places, with arched roofs, were entered. It must be observed that this is the description of a large hut, the smaller ones, containing one or two families, have the domes somewhat differently arranged. "Each dwelling might be averaged at fourteen or sixteen feet in diameter by six or seven in height, but as snow alone was used in their construction, and was always at hand, it might be supposed that there was no particular size, that being of course at the option of the builder. The laying of the arch was performed in such a manner as would have satisfied the most regular artist, the key-piece on the top, being a large square slab. The blocks of snow used in the buildings were from four to six inches in thickness, and about a couple of feet in length, carefully pared with a large knife. Where two families occupied a dome, a seat was raised on either side, two feet in height. These raised places were used as beds, and covered in the first place with whalebone, sprigs of andromeda, or pieces of sealskin, over these were spread deer-pelts and deer-skin clothes, which had a very warm appearance. The pelts were used as blankets, and many of them had ornamental fringes of leather sewed round their edges. "Each dwelling-place was illumined by a broad piece of transparent fresh-water ice, of about two feet in diameter, which formed part of the roof, and was placed over the door. These windows gave a most pleasing light, free from glare, and something like that which is thrown through ground glass. We soon learned that the building of a house was but the work of an hour or two, and that a couple of men--one to cut the slabs and the other to lay them--were labourers sufficient. "For the support of the lamps and cooking apparatus, a mound of snow is erected for each family; and when the master has two wives or a mother, both have an independent place, one at each end of the bench. "I find it impossible to attempt describing everything at a second visit, and shall therefore only give an account of those articles of furniture which must be always the same, and with which, in five minutes, any one might be acquainted. A frame, composed of two or three broken fishing-spears, supported in the first place a large hoop of wood or bone, across which an open-meshed, and ill-made net was spread or worked for the reception of wet or damp clothes, skins, etc, which could be dried by the heat of the lamp. On this contrivance the master of each hut placed his gloves on entering, first carefully clearing them of snow. "From the frame above mentioned, one or more coffin-shaped stone pots were suspended over lamps of the same material, crescent-shaped, and having a ridge extending along their back; the bowl part was filled with blubber, and the oil and wicks were ranged close together along the edge. The wicks were made of moss and trimmed by a piece of asbestos, stone, or wood; near at hand a large bundle of moss was hanging for a future supply. The lamps were supported by sticks, bones, or pieces of horn, at a sufficient height to admit an oval pot of wood or whalebone beneath, in order to catch any oil that might drop from them. The lamps varied considerably in size, from two feet to six inches in length, and the pots were equally irregular, holding from two or three gallons to half a pint. Although I have mentioned a kind of scaffolding, these people did not all possess so grand an establishment, many being contented to suspend their pot to a piece of bone stuck in the wall of the hut. One young woman was quite a caricature in this way: she was the inferior wife of a young man, whose senior lady was of a large size, and had a corresponding lamp, etc, at one corner; while she herself, being short and fat, had a lamp the size of half a dessert-plate, and a pot which held a pint only. "Almost every family was possessed of a large wooden tray, resembling those used by butchers in England; its offices, however, as we soon perceived, were more various, some containing raw flesh of seals and blubber, and others, skins, which were steeping in urine. A quantity of variously-sized bowls of whalebone, wood, or skin, completed the list of vessels, and it was evident that they were made to contain _anything_." The Esquimaux use two kinds of boats,--the "oomiak" and "kayak." The oomiak is merely a large species of punt, used exclusively by the women; but the kayak is a triumph in the art of naval architecture, and is as elegant as it is ingenious. It is about twenty-five feet in length, and less than two in breadth of beam. In shape it has been compared to a weaver's shuttle, though it tapers much more elegantly than this piece of machinery. It is decked from stem to stern, excepting a circular hole very nearly amidships, and this round hatchway is just large enough to admit the body of an Esquimaux in a sitting posture. Around the rim of the circle is a little ridge, sometimes higher in front than at the back, and this ridge is often ornamented with a hoop of ivory. A flat piece of wood runs along each side of the frame, and is, in fact, the only piece of any strength in a kayak. Its depth in the centre is four or five inches, and its thickness about three fourths of an inch; it tapers to a point at the commencement of the stem and stern projections. Sixty-four ribs are fastened to this gunwale piece; seven slight rods run the whole length of the bottom and outside the ribs. The bottom is rounded, and has no keel; twenty-two little beams or cross-pieces keep the frame on a stretch above, and one strong batten runs along the centre, from stem to stern, being, of course, discontinued at the seat part. The ribs are made of ground willow, also of whalebone, or, if it can be procured, of good-grained wood. The whole contrivance does not weigh over fifty or sixty pounds; so that a man easily carries his kayak on his head, which, by the form of the rim, he can do without the assistance of his hands. An Esquimaux prides himself in the neat appearance of his boat, and has a warm skin placed in its bottom to sit on. His posture is with the legs pointed forward, and he cannot change his position without the assistance of another person; in all cases where a weight is to be lifted, an alteration of stowage, or any movement to be made, it is customary for two kayaks to lie together; and the paddle of each being placed across the other, they form a steady double boat. An inflated seal's bladder forms, invariably, part of the equipage of a canoe, and the weapons are confined in their places by small lines of whalebone, stretched tightly across the upper covering, so as to receive the points or handles of the spears beneath them. Flesh is frequently stowed within the stem or stern, as are also birds and eggs; but a seal, although round, and easily made to roll, is so neatly balanced on the upper part of the boat as seldom to require a lashing. When Esquimaux are not paddling, their balance must be nicely preserved, and a trembling motion is always observable in the boat. The most difficult position for managing a kayak is when going before the wind, and with a little swell running. Any inattention would instantly; by exposing the broadside, overturn this frail vessel. The dexterity with which they are turned, the velocity of their way, and the extreme elegance of form of the kayaks, render an Esquimaux of the highest interest when sitting independently, and urging his course towards his prey. "The paddle is double-bladed, nine feet three inches in length, small at the grasp, and widening to four inches at the blades, which are thin, and edged with ivory for strength as well as ornament. "The next object of importance to the boat is the sledge, which finds occupation during at least three fourths of the year. A man who possesses both this and a canoe is considered a person of property. To give a particular description of the sledge would be impossible, as there are no two actually alike; and the materials of which they are composed are as various as their form. The best are made of the jaw-bones of the whale, sawed to about two inches in thickness, and in depth from six inches to a foot. These are the runners, and are shod with a thin plank of the same material; the side-pieces are connected by means of bones, pieces of wood, or deers' horns, lashed across, with a few inches space between each, and they yield to any great strain which the sledge may receive. The general breadth of the upper part of the sledge is about twenty inches; but the runners lean inwards, and therefore at bottom it is rather greater. The length of bone sledges is from four feet to fourteen. Their weight is necessarily great; and one of moderate size, that is to say, about ten or twelve feet, was found to be two hundred and seventeen pounds. The skin of the walrus is very commonly used during the coldest part of the winter, as being hard-frozen, and resembling an inch board, with ten times the strength, for runners. Another ingenious contrivance is, by casing moss and earth in seal's skin, so that by pouring a little water, a round hard bolster is easily formed. Across all these kinds of runners there is the same arrangement of bones, sticks, etc, on the upper part; and the surface which passes over the snow is coated with ice, by mixing snow with fresh water, which assists greatly in lightening the load for the dogs, as it slides forwards with ease. Boys frequently amuse themselves by yoking several dogs to a small piece of seal's skin, and sitting on it, holding by the traces. Their plan is then to set off at full speed, and he who bears the greatest number of bumps before he relinquishes his hold is considered a very fine fellow. "The Esquimaux possess various kinds of spears, but their difference is chiefly in consequence of the substances of which they are composed, and not in their general form. "One called ka-te-teek, is a large and strong-handled spear, with an ivory point made for despatching any wounded animal in the water. It is never thrown, but has a place appropriated for it on the kayak. "The oonak is a lighter kind than the former; also ivory-headed. It has a bladder fastened to it, and has a loose head with a line attached; this being darted into an animal, is instantly liberated from the handle which gives the impetus. Some few of these weapons are constructed of the solid ivory of the unicorn's horn, about four feet in length, and remarkably well-rounded and polished. "Ip-poo-too-yoo, is another kind of hand-spear, varying but little from the one last described. It has, however, no appendages. "The Noogh-wit is of two kinds; but both are used for striking birds, young animals, or fish. The first has a double fork at the extremity, and there are three other barbed ones at about half its length, diverging in different directions, so that if the end pair should miss, some of the centre ones might strike. The second kind has only three barbed forks at the head. All the points are of ivory, and the natural curve of the walrus tusk favours and facilitates their construction. "Amongst the minor instruments of the ice-hunting are a long bone feeler for plumbing any cracks through which seals are suspected of breathing, and also for trying the safety of the road. Another contrivance is occasionally used with the same effect as the float of a fishing-line. Its purpose it to warn the hunter, who is watching a seal-hole, when the animal rises to the surface, so that he may strike without seeing, or being seen, by his prey. This is a most delicate little rod of bone or ivory, of about a foot in length, and the thickness of a fine knitting-needle. At the lower end is a small knob like a pin's head, and the upper extremity has a fine piece of sinew tied to it, so as to fasten it loosely to the side of the hole. The animal, on rising, does not perceive so small an object hanging in the water, and pushes it up with his nose, when the watchful Esquimaux, observing his little beacon in motion, strikes down, and secures his prize. "Small ivory pegs or pins are used to stop the holes made by the spears in the animal's body; thus the blood, a great luxury to the natives, is saved. "The same want of wood which renders it necessary to find substitutes in the construction of spears, also occasions the great variety of bows. The horn of the musk-ox, thinned horns of deer, or other bony substances, are as frequently used or met with as wood, in the manufacture of these weapons, in which elasticity is a secondary consideration. Three or four pieces of horn or wood are frequently joined together in one bow,--the strength lying alone in a vast collection of small plaited sinews; these, to the number of perhaps a hundred, run down the back of the bow, and being quite tight, and having the spring of catgut, cause the weapon, when unstrung, to turn the wrong way; when bent, their united strength and elasticity are amazing. The bowstring is of fifteen to twenty plaits, each loose from the other, but twisted round when in use, so that a few additional turns will at any time alter its length. The general length of the bows is about three feet and a half. "The arrows are short, light, and formed according to no general rule as to length or thickness. A good one has half the shaft of bone, and a head of hard slate, or a small piece of iron; others have sharply-pointed bone heads: none are barbed. Two feathers are used for the end, and are tied opposite each other, with the flat sides parallel. A neatly-formed case contains the bow and a few arrows. Sealskin is preferred for this purpose, as more effectually resisting the wet than any other. A little bag, which is attached to the side, contains a stone for sharpening, and some spare arrow-heads carefully wrapped up in a piece of skin. "The bow is held in a horizontal position, and though capable of great force, is rarely used at a greater distance than from twelve to twenty yards." Their houses, clothing, sledges, boats, utensils, and arms, being now described, it only remains to be seen in what manner these most singular people pass their time, how they supply themselves with food, and how they manage to support life during the long dark winter, and the scarce less hospitable summer of their rigorous clime. Their occupations from year to year are carried on with an almost unvarying regularity, though, like their dresses, they change according to the season. Their short summer is chiefly employed in hunting the reindeer, and other quadrupeds,--for the simple reason that it is at this season that these appear in greatest numbers among them, migrating northward as the snow thaws from the valleys and hill-sides. Not but that they also kill the reindeer in other seasons, for these animals do not all migrate southward on the approach of winter, a considerable number remaining all the year upon the shores of the Arctic Sea, as well as the islands to the north of them. Of course, the Esquimaux kills a reindeer when and where he can; and it may be here remarked, that in no part of the American continent has the reindeer been trained or domesticated as among the Laplanders and the people of Russian Asia. Neither the Northern Indians (Tinne) nor the Esquimaux have ever reached this degree in domestic civilisation, and this fact is one of the strongest points of difference between the American Esquimaux and their kindred races in the north of Asia. One tribe of true Esquimaux alone hold the reindeer in subjection, viz the Tuski, already mentioned, on the Asiatic shore; and it might easily be shown that the practice reached them from the contiguous countries of northern Asia. The American Esquimaux, like those of Greenland, possess only the dog as a domesticated animal; and him they have trained to draw their sledges in a style that exhibits the highest order of skill, and even elegance. The Esquimaux dog is too well-known to require particular description. He is often brought to this country in the return ships of Arctic whalers and voyagers; and his thick, stout body covered closely with long stiff hair of a whitish or yellowish colour, his cocked ears and smooth muzzle, and, above all, the circle-like curling of his bushy tail, will easily be remembered by any one who has ever seen this valuable animal. In summer, then, the Esquimaux desert their winter houses upon the shore, and taking with them their tents make an excursion into the interior. They do not go far from the sea--no farther than is necessary to find the valleys browsed by the reindeer, and the fresh-water lakes, which, at this season, are frequented by flocks of swans, geese of various kinds, ducks, and other aquatic birds. Hunting the reindeer forms their principal occupation at this time; but, of course, "all is fish that comes into the net" of an Esquimaux; and they also employ themselves in capturing the wild fowl and the fresh-water fish, in which these lakes abound. With the wild fowl it is the breeding and moulting season, and the Esquimaux not only rob them of their eggs, but take large numbers of the young before they are sufficiently fledged to enable them to fly, and also the old ones while similarly incapacitated from their condition of "moult." In their swift kayaks which they have carried with them on their heads, they can pursue the fluttering flocks over any part of a lake, and overtake them wherever they may go. This is a season of great plenty in the larder of the _Inuit_. The fresh-water fish are struck with spears out of the kayaks, or, when there is ice on the water strong enough to bear the weight of a man, the fish are captured in a different manner. A hole is broken in the ice, the broken fragments are skimmed off and cast aside, and then the fisherman lets down a shining bauble--usually the white tooth of some animal--to act as a bait. This he keeps bobbing about until the fish, perceiving it afar off through the translucent water, usually approaches to reconnoitre, partly from curiosity, but more, perhaps, to see if it be anything to eat. When near enough the Esquimaux adroitly pins the victim with his fish spear, and lands it upon the ice. This species of fishing is usually delivered over to the boys--the time of the hunters being too valuable to be wasted in waiting for the approach of the fish to the decoy, an event of precarious and uncertain occurrence. In capturing the reindeer, the Esquimaux practises no method very different from that used by "still hunters" in other parts of America. He has to depend alone upon his bow and arrows, but with these poor weapons he contrives to make more havoc among a herd of deer than would a backwoods hunter with his redoubtable rifle. There is no mystery about his superior management. It consists simply in the exhibition of the great strategy and patience with which he makes his approaches, crawling from point to point and using every available cover which the ground may afford. But all this would be of little avail were it not for a _ruse_ which he puts in practice, and which brings the unsuspecting deer within reach of his deadly arrows. This consists in a close imitation of the cries of the animal, so close that the sharp-eared creature itself cannot detect the counterfeit, but, drawing nearer and nearer to the rock or bush from which the call appears to proceed, falls a victim to the deception. The silent arrow makes no audible sound; the herd, if slightly disturbed at seeing one of their number fall, soon compose themselves, and go on browsing upon the grass or licking up the lichen. Another is attracted by the call, and another, who fall in their turn victims either to their curiosity or the instinct of amorous passions. For this species of hunting, the bow far excels any other weapon; even the rifle is inferior to it. Sometimes the Esquimaux take the deer in large numbers, by hunting them with dogs, driving the herd into some defile or _cul de sac_ among the rocks, and then killing them at will with their arrows and javelins. This, however, is an exceptional case, as such natural "pounds" are not always at hand. The Indians farther south construct artificial enclosures; but in the Esquimaux country there is neither time nor material for such elaborate contrivances. The Esquimaux who dwell in those parts frequented by the musk-oxen, hunt these animals very much as they do the reindeer; but killing a musk bull, or cow either, Is a feat of far grander magnitude, and requires more address than shooting a tiny deer. I have said that the Esquimaux do not, even in these hunting excursions, stray very far into the interior. There is a good reason for their keeping close to the seashore. Were they to penetrate far into the land they would be in danger of meeting with their _bitter_ foemen, the _Tinne_ Indians, who in this region also hunt reindeer and musk-oxen. War to the knife is the practice between these two races of people, and has ever been since the first knowledge of either. They often meet in conflict upon the rivers inland, and these conflicts are of so cruel and sanguinary a nature as to imbue each with a wholesome fear of the other. The Indians, however, dread the Esquimaux more than the latter fear them; and up to a late period took good care never to approach their coasts; but the musket and rifle have now got into the hands of some of the northern tribes, who avail themselves of these superior weapons, not only to keep the Esquimaux at bay, but also to render them more cautious about extending their range towards the interior. When the dreary winter begins to make its appearance, and the reindeer grow scarce upon the snow-covered plains, the Esquimaux return to their winter villages upon the coast. Quadrupeds and birds no longer occupy their whole attention, for the drift of their thoughts is now turned towards the inhabitants of the great deep. The seal and the walrus are henceforth the main objects of pursuit. Perhaps during the summer, when the water was open, they may have visited the shore for the purpose of capturing that great giant of the icy seas--a whale. If so, and they have been successful in only one or two captures, they may look forward to a winter of plenty--since the flesh of a full-grown whale, or, better still, a brace of such ample creatures, would be sufficient to feed a whole tribe for months. They have no curing process for this immense carcass; they stand in need of none. Neither salt nor smoking is required in their climate. Jack Frost is their provision curer, and performs the task without putting them either to trouble or expense. It is only necessary for them to hoist the great flitches upon scaffolds, already erected for the purpose, so as to keep the meat from the wolves, wolverines, foxes, and their own half-starved dogs. From their aerial larder they can cut a piece of blubber whenever they feel hungry, or they have a mind to eat, and this _mind_ they are in so long as a morsel is left. Their mode of capturing a whale is quite different from that practised by the whale-fishers. When the huge creature is discovered near, the whole tribe sally forth, and surround it in their kayaks; they then hurl darts into its body, but instead of these having long lines attached to them, they are provided with sealskins sewed up air-tight and inflated, like bladders. When a number of these become attached to the body of the whale, the animal, powerful though he be, finds great difficulty in sinking far down, or even progressing rapidly through the water. He soon rises to the surface, and the sealskin buoys indicate his whereabouts to the occupants of the kayaks, who in their swift little crafts, soon dart up to him again, and shoot a fresh volley into his body. In this way the whale is soon "wearied out," and then falls a victim to their larger spears, just as in the case where a capture is made by regular, whalers. I need scarcely add that a success of this kind is hailed as a jubilee of the tribe, since it not only brings a benefit to the whole community, but is also a piece of fortune of somewhat rare occurrence. When no whales have been taken, the long, dark winter may justly be looked forward to with some solicitude; and it is then that the Esquimaux requires to put forth all his skill and energies for the capture of the walrus or the seal--the latter of which may be regarded as the staff of his life, furnishing him not only with food, but with light, fuel, and clothing for his body and limbs. Of the seals that inhabit the Polar Seas there are several species; but the common seal (_Calocephalus vitulina_) and the harp-seal (_Calocephalus Groenlandicus_) are those most numerous, and consequently the principal object of pursuit. The Esquimaux uses various stratagems for taking these creatures, according to the circumstances in which they may be encountered; and simpletons as the seals may appear, they are by no means easy of capture. They are usually very shy and suspicious, even in places where man has never been seen by them. They have other enemies, especially in the great polar bear; and the dread of this tyrant of the icy seas keeps them ever on the alert. Notwithstanding their watchfulness, however, both the bear and the biped make great havoc among them, and each year hundreds of thousands of them are destroyed. The bear, in capturing seals, exhibits a skill and cunning scarce excelled by that of the rational being himself. When this great quadruped perceives a seal basking on the edge of an ice-field, he makes his approaches, not by rushing directly towards it, which he well knows would defeat his purpose. If once seen by the seal, the latter has only to betake himself to the water, where it can soon sink or swim beyond the reach of the bear. To prevent this, the bear gets well to leeward, and then diving below the surface, makes his approaches under water, now and then cautiously raising his head to get the true bearings of his intended victim. After a number of these subaqueous "reaches," he gets close in to the edge of the floe in such a position as to cut off the seal's retreat to the water. A single spring brings him on the ice, and then, before the poor seal has time to make a brace of flounders, it finds itself locked in the deadly embrace of the bear. When seals are thus detected asleep, the Esquimaux approaches them in his kayak, taking care to paddle cautiously and silently. If he succeed in getting between them and the open water, he kills them in the ordinary way--by simply knocking them on the snout with a club, or piercing them with a spear. Sometimes, however, the seal goes to sleep on the surface of the open water. Then the approach is made in a similar manner by means of the kayak, and the animal is struck with a harpoon. But a single blow does not always kill a seal, especially if it be a large one, and the blow has been ill-directed. In such cases the animal would undoubtedly make his escape, and carry the harpoon along with it, which would be a serious loss to the owner, who does not obtain such weapons without great difficulty. To prevent this, the Esquimaux uses a contrivance similar to that employed in the capture of the whale,--that is, he attaches a float or buoy to his harpoon by means of a cord, and this so impedes the passage of the seal through the water, that it can neither dive nor swim to any very great distance. The float is usually a walrus bladder inflated in the ordinary way, and wherever the seal may go, the float betrays its track, enabling the Esquimaux to follow it in his shuttle-shaped kayak, and pierce it again with a surer aim. In winter, when the sea is quite covered with ice, you might fancy that the seal-fishery would be at an end, for the seal is essentially a marine animal; and although it can exist upon the ice or on dry land, it could not _subsist_ there. Access to the water it must have, in order to procure its food, which consists of small fish and molluscs. Of course, when the ice forms on the surface, the seal is in its true element--the water underneath--but when this ice becomes, as it often does, a full yard in thickness, extending over hundreds of miles of the sea, how then is the seal to be got at? It could not be reached at all; and at such a season the Esquimaux people would undoubtedly starve, were it not for a habit peculiar to this animal, which, happily for them, brings it within their reach. Though the seal can live under water like a fish, and probably could pass a whole winter under the ice without much inconvenience, it likes now and then to take a little fresh air, and have a quiet nap upon the upper surface in the open air. With this design it breaks a hole through the ice, while the latter is yet thin, and this hole it keeps carefully open during the whole winter, clearing out each new crust as it forms. No matter to what thickness the ice may attain, this hole always forms a breathing-place for the seal, and a passage by which he may reach the upper surface, and indulge himself in--his favourite siesta in the open air. Knowing this habit, the Esquimaux takes advantage of it to make the seal his captive. When the animal is discovered on the ice, the hunter approaches with the greatest stealth and caution. This is absolutely necessary: for if the enemy is perceived, or makes the slightest noise, the wary seal flounders rapidly into his hole, and is lost beyond redemption. If badly frightened, he will not appear for a long time, denying himself his open air exercise until the patience of his persecutor is quite worn out, and the coast is again clear. In making his approaches, the hunter uses all his art, not only taking advantage of every inequality--such as snow-drifts and ice-hillocks--to conceal himself; but he also practises an ingenious deception by dressing himself in the skin of a seal of like species, giving his body the figure of the animal, and counterfeiting its motions, by floundering clumsily over the ice, and oscillating his head from side to side, just as seals are seen to do. This deception often proves successful, when the hunter under any other shape would in vain endeavour to get within striking distance of his prey. When seals are scarce, and the supply greatly needed, the Esquimaux often lies patiently for hours together on the edge of a seal-hole waiting for the animal to come up. In order to give it time to get well out upon the ice, the hunter conceals himself behind a heap of snow, which he has collected and piled up for the purpose. A float-stick, ingeniously placed in the water of the breathing-hole, serves as a signal to tell when the seal is mounting through his trap-like passage, the motion of the stick betraying its ascent. The hunter then gets himself into the right attitude to strike, and summons all his energies for the encounter. Even during the long, dark night of winter this mode of capturing the seal is practised. The hunter, having discovered a breathing-hole-- which its dark colour enables him to find--proceeds in the following manner: he scrapes away the snow from around it, and lifting up some water pours it on the ice, so as to make a circle of a darker hue around the orifice. He then makes a sort of cake of pure white snow, and with this covers the hole as with a lid. In the centre of this lid he punches a small opening with the shaft-end of his spear, and then sits down and patiently awaits the issue. The seal ascends unsuspiciously as before. The dark water, bubbling up through the small central orifice, betrays its approach, which can be perceived even in the darkest night. The hunter does not wait for its climbing out upon the ice. Perhaps if he did so, the suspicious creature might detect the device, and dive down again. But it is not allowed time for reflection. Before it can turn its unwieldly body, the heavy spear of the hunter--struck through the yielding snow--descends upon its skull, and kills it on the instant. The great "walrus" or "morse" (_Trichecus rosmarus_) is another important product of the Polar Seas, and is hunted by the Esquimaux with great assiduity. This splendid amphibious animal is taken by contrivances very similar to those used for the seal; but the capture of a walrus is an event of importance, second only to the striking of a whale. Its great carcass not only supplies food to a whole village, but an oil superior to that of the whale, besides various other useful articles. Its skin, bones, and intestines are employed by the Esquimaux for many domestic purposes,--and, in addition, there are the huge molar tusks, that furnish one of the most valuable ivories of commerce, from which are manufactured those beautiful sets of teeth, of dazzling whiteness, that, gleaming between vermilion lips, you may often see at a ball or an evening party! CHAPTER FIVE. MUNDRUCUS, OR BEHEADERS. In our general sketch of the Amazonian Indians it was stated that there were some few tribes who differed in certain customs from all the rest, and who might even be regarded as _odd among the odd_. One of these tribes is the _Mundrucu_, which, from its numbers and warlike strength, almost deserves to be styled a nation. It is, at all events, a powerful confederacy, of different tribes, linked together in one common nationality, and including in their league other Indians which the Mundrucus themselves first conquered, and afterwards associated with themselves on terms of equality; in other words, "annexed" them. The same sort of annexation or alliance is common among the tribes of North America; as in the case of the powerful Comanche nation, who extend their protecting alliance over the Wacoes, Washites, and Cayguaas or Kioways. The _Mahue_ is the principal tribe that is patronised in this fashion by the Mundrucus, and the two together number at least 20,000 souls. Before the days of the Portuguese slave-hunting, the Mundrucus occupied the south bank of the Amazon, from the mouth of the Tapajos to that of the Madeira. This infamous traffic had the effect of clearing the banks of the great river of its native inhabitants,--except such of them as chose to submit to slavery, or become _neophytes_, by adopting the monkish faith. Neither of these courses appeared pleasing in the eyes of the Mundrucus, and they adopted the only alternative that was likely to insure their independence,--by withdrawing from the dangerous proximity of the sanguinary slave-trade. This retreat of the Mundrucus, however, was by no means an ignominious flight. The withdrawal was voluntary on their part, and not compulsory, as was the case with weaker tribes. From the earliest times they had presented a firm front to the Portuguese encroachments, and the latter were even forced into a sort of nefarious alliance with them. The leaving the Amazon on the part of the Mundrucus was rather the result of a negotiation, by which they conceded their territory--between the mouths of the Tapajos and Madeira--to the Brazilian government; and to this hour they are not exactly unfriendly to Brazilian _whites_, though to the mulattoes and negroes, who constitute a large proportion of the Brazilian population, the Mundrucu knows no other feeling than that of a deadly hostility. The origin of their hatred of the Brazilian blacks is to be found in a revolt which occurred in the provinces of the Lower Amazon (at Para) in 1835. It was a _caste_ revolution against whites, but more especially against _European_ Portuguese. In this affair the Mundrucus were employed against the darker-skinned rebels--the _Gabanos_, as they were called--and did great service in putting down the rebellion. Hence they retain a lingering spark of friendship for their _ci-devant_ white allies; or perhaps it would be more correct to say they do not actually hate them, but carry on a little commerce with their traders. For all that, they occasionally cut the throats of a few of the latter,--especially those who do not come to deal directly with them, but who pass through their country in going from the Amazon to the diamond mines of Brazil. These last are called _Moncaos_, and their business is to carry supplies from the towns on the Amazon (Santarem and Para) to the miners of gold and washers of diamonds in the district of Matto Grosso, of which Cuiaba is the capital. Their route is by water and "portage" up the Tapajos river, and through the territory of the dreaded Mundrucus,--requiring a journey of six months, as perilous and toilsome as it is tedious. The present residence of the Mundrucus is between the Tapajos and Madeira, as formerly, but far up on both rivers. On the Tapajos, above what are known as the "Caxoeiras," or Cataracts, their villages are found. There they dwell, free from all molestation on the part of the whites; their borders extending widely around them, and limited only by contact with those of other warlike tribes like themselves, who are their deadly enemies. Among these last are the _Muras_, who dwell at the mouths of the Madeira and Rio Negro. The Mundrucus build the _malocca_, elsewhere described; only in their case it is not used as a dwelling, but rather as a grand arsenal, a council-chamber, a ballroom, and, if need be, a fortress. When fearing an attack, all sleep in it "under arms." It is a structure of large size and great strength, usually rendered more unassailable by being "chinked" and plastered with clay. It is in this building that are deposited those horrid trophies which have given to the Mundrucus their terrible title of _decapitadores_, or "beheaders." The title and its origin shall be presently explained. Around the great malocca the huts are placed, forming a village, and in these the people ordinarily dwell. The Mundrucus are not without ample means of subsistence. Like most other Amazonian tribes, they cultivate a little manioc, plantains, and even maize; and they know how to prepare the _farinha_ meal, and, unfortunately, also the detestable _chicha_, the universal beverage of the South-American aborigines. They have their vessels of calabash-- both of the vegetable and arborescent kinds--and a full set of implements and utensils for the field and kitchen. Their war weapons are those common to other Amazonian tribes, and they sometimes also carry the spear. They have canoes of hollow trees; and, of course, fishing and hunting are the employments of the men,--the women, as almost everywhere else among Indians, doing the drudgery,--the tilling and reaping, the "hewing of wood and the drawing of water," the making the household utensils and using them,--all such offices being beneath the dignity of the "lordly," or rather _lazy_ savage. I have said that they carry on a commercial intercourse with the white traders. It is not of much magnitude, and their exports consist altogether of the native and spontaneous productions of the soil, sarsaparilla being one of the chief articles. They gather this (the women and children do) during six months of the year. The other six months no industry is followed,--as this period is spent in hostile excursions against the neighbouring tribes. Their imports consist of iron tools and pieces for weapons; but they more especially barter the product of their labour for ornamental gewgaws,--such as savages universally admire and desire. Their sarsaparilla is good, and much sought for in the medical market. Every one is acquainted with the nature and character of this valuable medicinal root, the appearance of which must also be known to almost everybody,--since it is so very common for our druggists to display the bundles of it in their shop windows. Perhaps every one is not acquainted with the fact, that the sarsaparilla root is the product of a great many different species of plants most of them of the genus _Simlax_, but not a few belonging to plants of other genera, as those of _Carex_ and _Herreria_ the roots of which are also sold as sarsaparilla. The species of simlax are widely distributed throughout the whole torrid zone, in Asia, Africa, and America, and some kinds are found growing many degrees outside the tropics,--as is the case in Virginia and the valley of the Mississippi, and also on the other side of the Pacific on the great continent-island of Australia. The best sarsaparilla, however, is that which is produced in tropical countries, and especially in moist situations, where the atmosphere is at once hot and humid. It requires these conditions to concentrate the virtue of its sap, and render it more active. It would be idle to give a list of the different species of simlax that furnish the sarsaparilla root of the pharmacopeia. There is an almost endless number of them, and they are equally varied in respect to excellence of quality; some kinds are in reality almost worthless, and for this reason, in using it as a medicine, great care should be taken in the selection of the species. Like all other articles, either of food or medicine, the valuable kinds are the scarcest; the reason in this case being that the best sarsaparilla is found in situations not only difficult of access, but where the gathering of its root is attended with considerable danger, from the unhealthy nature of the climate and the hostility of the savages in whose territory it grows. As to the quantity that may be obtained, there is no limit, on the score of any scarcity of the plant itself, since it is found throughout all the countries of tropical America plenteously distributed both in species and individual plants. Such quantities of it grow along the banks of some South-American rivers, that the Indians have a belief that those streams known as _black waters_--such as the Rio Negro and others--derive their peculiar colour from the roots of this plant. This, however, is an erroneous supposition, as there are many of the _white-water_ rivers that run through regions abundantly supplied with the sarsaparilla root. The black water, therefore, must arise from some other cause, as yet unknown. As observed, the sarsaparilla of the Mundrucu country is of the very best quality. It is the _Simlax papyracea_ of Soiret, and is known in commerce as the "Lisbon," or "Brazilian." It is a climbing plant, or under-shrub, the stem of which is flattened and angular, with rows of prickles standing along the prominent edges. Its leaves are of an oval acuminated shape, and marked with _longitudinal_ nerves. It shoots without any support, to a height of fifteen or twenty feet, after which it embraces the surrounding branches of trees and spreads to a great distance in every direction. The main root sends out many long tendrils, all of like thickness, covered with a brownish bark, or sometimes of a dark-grey colour. These tendrils are fibrous, and about as thick as a quill. They present a constant tendency to become crooked, and they are also wrinkled longitudinally, with here and there some smaller lateral fibres branching off from the sides. It is in the bark or epidermis of the rhizomes that the medicinal virtue lies; but the tendrils--both rhizome and bark--are collected together, and no attempt is made to separate them, until they have reached their commercial destination. Indeed, even these are sold together, the mode of preparing the root being left to the choice of the consumer, or the apothecary who procures it. The Mundrucus collect it during the six months of the rainy season, partly because during the remaining six they are otherwise employed, and partly for the reason that, in the time of rain, the roots are more easily extracted from the damp soil. The process simply consists in digging them up or dragging them out of the earth--the latter mode especially where the tendrils lie near the surface, and they will pull up without breaking. If the main root be not dug out, it will send forth new tendrils, which in a short time would yield a new crop; but the improvident savages make no prudential calculations of this kind-- present convenience forming their sole consideration; and on this account both the root and plant are generally destroyed by them during the operation of collecting. As already stated, this labour devolves upon the women, who are also assisted in it by their children. They proceed into the depths of the forest--where the simlax grows in greatest abundance--and after collecting as much root as they can carry home with them, they return with their bundles to the malocca When fresh gathered the sarsaparilla is heavy enough--partly on account of the sap which it then contains, and partly from the quantity of the mud or earth that adheres to the corrugated surface of the roots. It is extremely probable that in this fresh state the virtue of the sarsaparilla, as a blood-purifier, is much greater than after it has passed through the channels of commerce; and the writer of this sketch has some reason, derived from personal experience, to believe that such is the case. Certain it is, that the reputation of this invaluable drug is far less in countries where the plant does not grow, than in those where it is common and can be obtained in its fresh state. In all parts of Spanish America its virtues are unquestioned, and experience has led to a more extensive use of it there than elsewhere. It is probable, therefore, that the virtue exists in the juice rather than the cortical integument of the rhizome; and this of course would be materially altered and deteriorated, if not altogether destroyed, in the process of exsiccation, which must necessarily take place in the time required for transporting it to distant parts of the world. In the European pharmacopeia it is the epidermis of the root which is supposed to contain the sanitary principle; and this, which is of a mucilaginous nature and slightly bitter taste, is employed, both in decoctions and infusions, as a tonic and alterative. In America, however, it is generally taken for what is termed _purifying the blood_--for the same purpose as the rhizomes of the _Lauras sassafras_ and other plants are used; but the sarsaparilla is generally considered the best, and it certainly _is_ the best of all known medicines for this purpose. Why it has fallen in the estimation of the Old World practitioners, or why it never obtained so great a reputation as it has in America, may arise from two circumstances. First, that the root offered for sale is generally the product of the less valuable species; and second, that the sap, and not the rhizome, may be the part that contains the virtuous principle. When the collected roots have been kept for awhile they become dry and light, and for the convenience of stowage and carriage--an important consideration to the trader in his eight-ton _garratea_--it is necessary to have the roots done up in packages of a uniform length and thickness. These packages are formed by laying the roots side by side, and doubling in the ends of the longer ones. A bundle of the proper size for stowage contains an _arroba_ of twenty-five pounds, though the weight varies according to the condition of the root. Uniformity in size is the chief object aimed at, and the bundles are made of a round or cylindrical shape, about five inches in diameter, and something more than a yard in length. They are trimmed off small at the ends--so as to admit of stowage without leaving any empty space between two tiers of them--and each bundle is tightly corded round from one end to the other with a "sipo," or creeping plant. It has been stated that this "sipo" is a root of the sarsaparilla itself, with the bark scraped off; and, indeed, its own root would serve well enough--were it not that putting it to such a use would destroy its medicinal value, and thus cause a considerable waste of the costly material. The sarsaparilla is not to be had for nothing even upon the banks of the Tapajos. A bundle of the best quality does not leave the hands of the Mundrucu until about four dollars' worth of exchange commodities have been put into them, which would bring the price of it to something over sixpence a pound. He is, therefore, a little particular about wasting a material that has cost him--or rather his wife and children--so much trouble in collecting. His cordage is obtained more cheaply, and consists of the long, flexible roots of a species of _pothos_, which roots--being what are termed _aerial_ and not buried in the ground--require no labour or digging to get at them. It is only necessary to stretch up the hand, and pull them down from the tops of lofty trees, from which they hang like streamers, often to the length of a hundred feet. These are toughened by the bark being scraped off; and when that is done they are ready for use, and serve not only to tie up the bundles of sarsaparilla, but for many other purposes in the domestic economy of the Mundrucus. In addition to the sarsaparilla, the Mundrucu furnishes the trader with several other items of commercial value--for his climate, although one of the most unhealthy in all the Amazon region, on account of its great heat and humidity, is for that very reason one of the most fertile. Nearly all those tropical vegetable products which are characteristics of Brazilian export commerce can here be produced of the most luxuriant kind; but it is only those that grow spontaneously at his very doors that tempt the Mundrucu to take the trouble of collecting them. There is one article however, which he not only takes some trouble to collect, but also to manufacture into an item of commercial exchange--a very rare item indeed. This is the _guarana_, which is manufactured from the fruit of a tree almost peculiar to the Mundrucu territory-- since nowhere is it found so abundantly as on the Tapajos. It is so prized in the Brazilian settlements as to command almost its weight in silver when transported thither. It is the constituent element of a drink, which has a stimulating effect on the system, somewhat more powerful than tea or coffee. It will prevent sleep; but its most valuable property is, that it is a good febrifuge, equal to the best quinine. _Guarana_ is prepared from the seeds of an inga--one of the _Mimosacae_. It is a low, wide-spreading tree like most of the mimosa family. The legumes are gathered, and the seeds roasted in them. The latter are then taken out, and after being ground to powder, are mixed with water so as to make a tough paste, which is moulded into little bricks, and when dried is ready for use. The beverage is then prepared by scraping a table-spoonful of dust from the brick, and mixing it with about a pint of water; and the dry paste, keeping for any length of time, is ready whenever wanted. The _guarana_ bush grows elsewhere in the Amazon valley, and on some headwaters of the Orinoco, where certain tribes also know how to prepare the drink. But it is sparingly distributed, and is nowhere so common as on the upper Tapajos hence its high price in the markets of Brazil. The Mundrucu manufactures it, not only for "home use," but for "exportation." He prepares another singular article of luxury, and this he makes exclusively for his own use,--not for the gratification of his lips or palate, but for his nose,--in other words, a snuff. Do not fancy, however, that it is snuff of the ordinary kind--the pulverised produce of innocent tobacco. No such thing; but a composition of such a powerful and stimulating character, that he who inhales it feels as if struck by an electric shock; his body trembles; his eyes start forward as if they would forsake their sockets; his limbs fail to support him; and he drops to the earth like one in a state of intoxication! For a short time he is literally mad; but the fit is soon over,--lasting usually only a few minutes,--and then a feeling of renewed strength, courage, and joyousness succeeds. Such are the consequences of taking snuff with a Mundrucu. And now to describe the nature of the substance which produces these powerful effects. Like the _guarana_ this snuff is a preparation, having for its basis the seeds of a leguminous tree. This time, however, it is an _acacia_, not an _inga_. It is the _acacia niopo_; so called because "niopo" is the name given to the snuff itself by certain tribes (the Ottomacs and others), who, like the Mundrucus, are snuff-takers. It is also called _curupa_, and the apparatus for preparing and taking it--for there is an apparatus of an extensive kind--is termed _parica_, in the general language (_lingoa geral_) of the Amazonian regions. We shall describe the preparation, the apparatus, and the ceremonial. The pods of the _Acacia niopo_--a small tree, with very delicate pinnate leaves--are plucked when ripe. They are then cut into small pieces and flung into a vessel of water. In this they remain until macerated, and until the seeds have turned black. These are then picked out, pounded in a mortar, which is usually the pericarp of the _sapucaia_, or "monkey-pot" tree (_Lecythys ollaria_). The pounding reduces them to a paste, which is taken up, clapped between the hands and formed into little cakes--but not until it has been mixed with some manioc flour, some lime from a burnt shell (a _helix_), and a little juice from the fresh leaves of the "abuta"--a menispermous plant of the genus _Cocculus_. The cakes are then dried or "barbecued" upon a primitive gridiron--the bars of which are saplings of hard wood--and when well-hardened the snuff is ready for the "box." In a box it is actually carried--usually one made out of some rare and beautiful shell. The ceremonial of taking the snuff is the most singular part of the performance. When a Mundrucu feels inclined for a "pinch"--though it is something more than a _pinch_ that he inhales when he _does_ feel inclined--he takes the cake out of the box, scrapes off about a spoonful of it into a shallow, saucer-shaped vessel of the calabash kind, and then spreads the powder all over the bottom of the vessel in a regular "stratification." The spreading is not performed by the fingers, but with a tiny, pencil-like brush made out of the bristles of the great ant-eater (_Myrmecophaga jubata_). He is in no hurry, but takes his time,--for as you may guess from its effects, the performance is not one so often repeated as that of ordinary snuff-taking. When the _niopo_ dust is laid to his liking, another implement is brought into play, the construction of which it is also necessary to describe. It is a "machine" of six to eight inches in length, and is made of two quills from the wing of the _gaviao real_, or "harpy eagle" (_Harpyia destructor_). These quills are placed side by side for the greater part of their length, forming two parallel tubes, and they are thus neatly whipped together by a thread. At one end they are pressed apart so as to diverge to a width corresponding to the breadth between the Mundrucu's nostrils,--where it is intended they shall be placed during the ceremony of snuff-taking. And thus are they placed,--one end of each quill being slightly intruded within the line of the septum, while the other end rests upon the snuff, or wanders over the surface of the saucer, till all the powder placed there is drawn up and inhaled, producing the convulsive effects already detailed. The shank-bone of a species of bird--thought to be a plover--is sometimes used instead of the quills. It is hollow, and has a forking-tube at the end. This kind is not common or easily obtained, for the niopo-taker who has one, esteems it as the most valuable item of his apparatus. Snuffing the niopo is not exclusively confined to the Mundrucu. We have seen elsewhere that it is also a habit of the dirt-eating Ottomacs; and other tribes on the upper Amazon practise it. But the Mahues, already mentioned as the allies of the Mundrucus, are the most confirmed snuff-takers of all. Another odd custom of the Mundrucus is their habit of "tatooing." I speak of real tatooing,--that is, marking the skin with dots and lines that cannot be effaced, in contradistinction to mere _painting_, or staining, which can easily be washed off. The Mundrucus paint also, with the _anotto_, _kuitoc_, _caruta_, and other pigments, but in this they only follow the practice of hundreds of other tribes. The true _tatoo_ is a far different affair, and scarcely known among the aborigines of America, though common enough in the islands of the South Sea. A few other Indian tribes practise it to a limited extent,--as is elsewhere stated,--but among the Mundrucus it is an "institution;" and painful though the process be, it has to be endured by every one in the nation, "every mother's son," and daughter as well, that are cursed with a Mundrucu for their father. It is upon the young people the infliction is performed,--when they are about eight or ten years of age. The _tatoo_ has been so often described, that I should not repeat it here; but there are a few "points" peculiar to Mundrucu tatooing, and a few others, not elsewhere understood. The performance is usually the work of certain old crones, who, from long practice, have acquired great skill in the art. The chief instrument used is a comb of thorns,--not a single thorn, as is generally stated,--but a tier or row of them set comb-fashion. These thorns are the spines of the "murumuru," or "pupunha" palm (_Gullielmia speciosa_). Humboldt states that this palm is smooth and spineless, but in this the great, good man was in error. Its trunk is so covered with thorns or spines, that when the Indians require to climb it--for the purpose of procuring the valuable fruits, which they eat variously prepared--they have to erect a staging, or rude sort of ladder, to be able to get at them. The comb, then, is pressed down upon the skin of the "tatooee," till all the points have penetrated the flesh, and a row of holes is laid open, from which the blood flows profusely. As soon as this can be wiped off, ashes of a burnt gum or pitch are rubbed into the wounds, which, when healed, appear like so many dots of a deep bluish or black colour. In this way the young Mundrucus, both boys and girls, get those regular rows of dotted lines, which traverse their forehead and cheeks, their arms and limbs, breasts, and bodies in such eccentric fashion. It has often been asked how these lines of dots were carried over the skin in such straight and symmetrical rows, forming regular parallel lines, or other geometrical patterns. The "comb" will explain the mystery. The tatoo, with a few strings of shell-beads or necklaces, and bracelets of monkey and jaguar teeth, is all the dress which is permitted to the Mundrucu belle. In Mundrucu-land it is the reverse of what is practised among civilised people: the men are the exponents of the fashions, and keep exclusively to themselves the cosmetics and bijouterie. Not contented with being tatooed, these also _paint_ their bodies, by way of "overcoat," and also adorn themselves with the bright feathers of birds. They wear on their heads the beautiful circlet of macaw-plumes, and on grand occasions appear in the magnificent "feather dress," so long celebrated as the peculiar costume of the tropical-forest Indian. These dresses their women weave and border, at a sacrifice of much tedious labour. They also ornament their arms and legs with rows of feathers around them, the tips turned upward and backward. The tatooing is confined to the Mundrucus proper,--their allies, the Mahues not following the practice, but contenting themselves with a simple "coat" of paint. It is difficult to say what motive first inducted human beings into this singular and barbarous custom. It is easier to tell why it is still followed, and the "why" is answered by saying that the Mundrucus "scarify" themselves, because their fathers did so before them. Many a custom among civilised nations, but little less ridiculous, if we could only think so, rests upon a similar basis. Perhaps our modern abominable hat--though it has a different origin--is not less ludicrous than the tatooed patterns of the savage. Certainly it is quite equal to it in ugliness, and is likely to rival it in permanence,--to our sorrow be it said. But even _we_ deal slightly in the tatoo. Our jolly Jack would be nobody in the forecastle without "Polly," in blue, upon his weather-beaten breast, and the _foul anchor_ upon his arm. But the Mundrucu baptises his unfortunate offspring in a still more savage fashion. The tattoo may be termed the _baptism in blood_, performed at the tender age of ten. When the youth--fortunately it does not extend to the weaker sex--has attained to the age of eighteen, he has then to undergo the _tocandeira_, which deserves to be called _the baptism of fire_! This too merits description. When the Mundrucu youth would become a candidate for manhood, a pair of "_gloves_" is prepared for him. These consist of two pieces of a palm-tree bark, with the pith hollowed out, but left in at one end. The hollow part is of sufficient diameter to draw over the hands loosely, and so long as to reach up to mid-arm, after the fashion of gauntlets. The "gloves" being got ready, are nearly filled with ants, not only the venomous red ants, but all other species, large or small, that can either bite or sting, of which tropical South America possesses an endless variety. With this "lining" the "mittens" are ready for use, and the "novice" is compelled to draw them on. Should he refuse, or even exhibit a disposition to shrink from the fiery trial, he is a lost man. From that hour he need never hold up his head, much less offer his hand and heart, for there is not a maiden in all Mundrucu-land that would listen to his softest speech. He is forever debarred from the pleasure of becoming a benedict. Of course he does not refuse, but plunging his hands into the "mittens," into the very midst of the crawling host, he sets about the ceremony. He must keep on the gloves till he has danced before every door in the village. He must sing as if from very joy; and there is plenty of music to accompany him, drums and fifes, and human voices,--for his parents and relatives are by his side encouraging him with their songs and gestures. He is in pain,--in positive agony,--for these venomous ants both sting and bite, and have been busy at both from the very first moment. Each moment his agony grows more intense, his sufferings more acute, for the poison is thrilling through his veins,--he turns pale,-- his eyes become blood-cast,--his breast quivers with emotion and his limbs tremble beneath him; but despite all this, woe to him if he utter a cry of weakness! It would brand him with an eternal stigma,--he would never be suffered to carry the Mundrucu lance to battle,--to poise upon its point the ghastly trophy of the _Beheaders_. On, on, through the howling throng, amidst friends and relatives with faces anxious as his own; on to the sound of the shrill-piping reed and the hoarse booming of the Indian drum; on till he stands in front of the cabin of the chief! There again the song is sung, the "jig" is danced, both proudly prolonged till the strength of the performer becomes completely exhausted. Then, and not till then, the gloves are thrown aside, and the wearer falls back, into the arms of his friends, "sufficiently punished!" This is the hour of congratulation. Girls gather round him, and fling their tatooed arms about his neck. They cluster and cling upon him, singing his song of triumph; but just at that crisis he is not in the mood for soft caresses; and, escaping from their blandishments, he makes a rush towards the river. On reaching its bank he plunges bodily in, and there remains up to his neck in the water, till the cooling fluid has to some extent eased his aching arms, and tranquillised the current of his boiling blood. When he emerges from the water, he is a man, fit stuff for a Mundrucu warrior, and eligible to the hand of a Mundrucu maiden. It may be remarked that this terrible ordeal of the Mundrucus, though, perhaps, peculiar among South-American Indians, has its parallel among certain tribes of the north,--the Mandans and others, as detailed by Catlin, one of the most acute of ethnological observers. The _scalp trophy_, too, of the Northern Indian has its analogy in a Mundrucu custom--that which distinguishes him most of all, and which has won for him the terrible title of "Beheader." This singular appellation is now to be explained. When a Mundrucu has succeeded in killing an enemy, he is not, like his northern compeer, satisfied with only the skin of the head. _He must have the whole head_, scalp and skull, bones, brains, and all! And he takes all, severing the head with his knife by a clean cut across the small of the neck, and leaving the trunk to the vulture king. With the ghastly trophy poised upon the point of his lance, he returns triumphant to the malocca to receive the greetings of his tribe and the praises of his chief. But the warlike exploit requires a memento--some token by which he may perpetuate its fame. The art of printing does not exist among the Mundrucus, and there is no friendly pen to record the deed. It has been done,--behold the evidence! much clearer than often accompanies the exploits of civilised heroes. There is the evidence of an enemy slain; there is the grim, gory voucher, palpable both to sight and touch--proof positive that there is a dead body somewhere. Of course, such evidence is sufficient for the present; but how about the future? As time passes, the feat may be forgotten, as great deeds are elsewhere. Somebody may even deny it. Some slanderous tongue may whisper, or insinuate, or openly declare that it was no exploit after all--that there was no dead man; for the vultures by this time would have removed the body, and the white ants (_termites_) would have equally extinguished all traces of the bones. How, then, are the proofs to be preserved? _By preserving the head_! And this is the very idea that is in the mind of the Mundrucu warrior. He is resolved not to permit his exploit to be buried in oblivion by _burying the head_ of his enemy. That tongue, though mute, will tell the tale to posterity; that pallid cheek, though, perhaps, it may become a little shrivelled in the "drying," will still be smooth enough to show that there is no _tatoo_, and to be identified as the skin of an enemy. Some young Mundrucu, yet unborn, will read in the countenance of that grinning and gory witness, the testimony of his father's prowess. The head, therefore, must be preserved; and it is preserved with as much care as the cherished portrait of a famous ancestor. The cranial relic is even _embalmed_, as if out of affection for him to whom it belonged. The brains and eye-balls are removed, to facilitate the process of desiccation; but false eyes are inserted, and the tongue, teeth, and ears, scalp, skull, and hair, are all retained, not only retained, but "titivated" out in the most approved style of fashion. The long hair is carefully combed out, parted, and arranged; brilliant feathers of rock-cock and macaw are planted behind the ears and twisted in the hanging tresses. An ornamental string passes through the tongue, and by this the trophy is suspended from the beams of the great malocca. It is not permitted to remain there. In some dark niche of this Golgotha--this Mundruquin Westminster--it might be overlooked and forgotten. To prevent this it is often brought forth, and receives many an airing. On all warlike and festive occasions does it appear, poised upon the point of the warrior's lance; and even in peaceful times it may be seen--along with hundreds of its like--placed in the circular row around the manioc clearing, and lending its demure countenance to the labours of the field. It is not a little singular that this custom of embalming the heads of their enemies is found among the Dyaks of Borneo, and the process in both places is ludicrously similar. Another rare coincidence occurs between the Amazonian tribes and the Bornean savages, viz in both being provided with the blow-gun. The _gravitana_ of the American tribes is almost identical with the sumpitan of Borneo. It furnishes a further proof of our theory regarding an original connection between the American Indians and the savages of the great South Sea. The Mundrucu is rarely ill off in the way of food. When he is so, it is altogether his own fault, and chargeable to his indolent disposition. The soil of his territory is of the most fertile kind, and produces many kinds of edible fruits spontaneously, as the nuts of the _pupunha_ palm and the splendid fruits of the _Bertholetia excelsa_, or juvia-tree, known in Europe as "Brazil-nuts." Of these then are two kinds, as mentioned elsewhere, the second being a tree of the genus _Lecythys_,-- the _Lecythys ollaria_, or "monkey-pot" tree. It obtains this trivial name from the circumstance, first, of its great pericarp, almost as large as a child's head, having a movable top or lid, which falls off when the fruit ripens; and secondly, from the monkeys being often seen drawing the seeds or nuts out of that part of the shell which remains attached to the tree, and which, bearing a considerable resemblance to a pot in its shape, is thus very appropriately designated the pot of the monkeys. The common Indian name of the monkey-pot tree is _sapucaia_, and the nuts of this species are so called in commerce, though they are also termed Brazil-nuts. They are of a more agreeable flavour than the true Brazil-nuts, and not so easily obtained, as the _Lecythys_ is less generally distributed over the Amazonian valley. It requires a peculiar soil, and grows only in those tracts that are subject to the annual inundations of the rivers. The true Brazil-nuts are the "juvia" trees of the Indians; and the season for collecting them is one of the _harvests_ of the Mundrucu people. The great pericarps--resembling large cocoa-nuts when stripped of the fibres--do not open and shed their seeds, as is the case with the monkey-pot tree. The whole fruit falls at once; and as it is very heavy, and the branches on which it grows are often nearly a hundred feet from the ground, it may easily be imagined that it comes down like a ten-pound shot; in fact, one of them falling upon the head of a Mundrucu would be very likely to crush his cranium, as a bullet would an egg-shell; and such accidents not unfrequently occur to persons passing imprudently under the branches of the Bertholetia when its nuts are ripe. Sometimes the monkeys, when on the ground looking after those that have fallen, become victims to the like accident; but these creatures are cunning reasoners, and being by experience aware of the danger, will scarce ever go under a juvia-tree, but when passing one always make a wide circuit around it. The monkeys cannot of themselves open the great pericarp, as they do that of the "sapucaia," but are crafty enough to get at the precious contents, notwithstanding. In doing this they avail themselves of the help of other creatures, that have also a motive in opening the juvia shells--cavies and other small rodent animals, whose teeth, formed for this very purpose, enable them to gnaw a hole in the ligneous pericarps, hard and thick as they are. Meanwhile the monkeys, squatted around, watch the operation in a careless, nonchalant sort of way, as if they had no concern whatever in the result; but as soon as they perceive that an entrance has been effected, big enough to admit their hand, they rush forward, drive off the weaker creature, who has been so long and laboriously at work, and take possession of the prize. Neither does the Mundrucu nut-gatherer get possession of the juvia fruit without a certain degree of danger and toil. He has to climb the tallest trees, to secure the whole crop at one time; and while engaged in collecting those upon the ground, he is in danger of a blow from odd ones that are constantly falling. To secure his skull against accidents, he wears upon his head a thick wooden cap or helmet,--after the fashion of the hats worn by our firemen,--and he is always careful to keep his body in an upright attitude, stooping as seldom as he can avoid doing so, lest he might get a thump between the shoulders, or upon the spine of his back, which would be very likely to flatten him out upon the earth. These Brazil-nuts furnish the Mundrucu with a portion of his food,--as they also do many other tribes of Amazonian Indians,-- and they are also an item of Indian commerce, being collected from among the different tribes by the Portuguese and Spanish traders. But the Mundrucu does not depend altogether on the spontaneous productions of the forest, which at best furnish only a precarious supply. He does something in the agricultural line,--cultivating a little manioc root, with, plantains, yams, and other tropical plants that produce an enormous yield with the very slightest trouble or attention; and this is exactly what suits him. A few days spent by the little community in the yam patch--or rather, by the women and children, for these are the agricultural labourers in Mundrucu-land--is sufficient to ensure an abundant supply of bread-stuff for the whole year. With regard to flesh-meat he is not so well off, for the domestic animals, and oxen more especially, do not thrive in the Amazon country. In Mundrucu-land, the carnivorous jaguar, aided by flies and vampire bats, would soon destroy them, even if the Indian had the inclination to raise them, which he has not. Instead of beef, therefore, he contents himself with fish, and occasionally a steak from the great tapir, or a griskin of _manati_. Birds, too, furnish him with an occasional meal; but the staple article of his flesh diet is obtained from the _quadrumana_,--the numerous species of monkeys with which his forests abound. These he obtains by shooting them down from the trees with his bow and arrows, and also by various other hunting devices. His mode of cooking them is sufficiently peculiar to be described. A large log fire is first kindled and permitted to burn until a sufficient quantity of red cinders are produced. Over these cinders a grating is erected with green saplings of wood, laid parallel to each other like the bars of a gridiron, and upon this the "joint" is laid. Nothing is done to the monkey before its being placed on the gridiron. Its skin is not removed, and even the intestines are not always taken out. The fire will singe off the hair sufficiently to content a Mundrucu stomach, and the hide is broiled and eaten, with the flesh. It is thus literally "carne con cuero." It may be observed that this forest gridiron, or "barbecue," as it is properly termed, is not an idea exclusively confined to South America. It is in use among the Indians of the north, and various uncivilised tribes in other parts of the world. Sometimes the Mundrucu does not take the trouble to construct the gridiron. When on the march in some warlike expedition that will not allow time for being particular about the mode of cooking, the joint is broiled upon a spit over the common fire. The spit is simply a stick, sharpened at both ends, one of which impales the monkey, and the other is stuck into the ground. The stick is then set with a lean towards the fire, so as to bring the carcass over the blaze. While on the spit the monkey appears in a sitting position, with its head upward, and its long tail hanging along the sapling,--just as if it were still living, and in one of its most natural attitudes, clinging to the branch of a tree! The sight is sufficiently comical; but sometimes a painful spectacle has been witnessed,--painful to any one but a savage: when the young of the monkey has been captured along with its dam, and still recognising the form of its parent,--even when all the hair has been singed off, and the skin has become calcined by the fire,--is seen rushing forward into the very flames, and with plaintive cry inviting the maternal embrace! Such an affecting incident has been often witnessed amid the forests of Amazopia. We conclude our sketch of the Mundrucus, by stating that their form of government is despotic, though not to an extreme degree. The "tushao," or chief, has considerable power, though it is not absolute, and does not extend to the taking of life,--unless the object of displeasure be a slave, and many of these are held in abject bondage among the Mundrucus. The Mundrucu religion resembles that of many other tribes both in North and South America. It consists in absurd ceremonies, and appeals to the good and evil spirits of the other world, and is mixed up with a vast deal of quackery in relation to the ills that afflict the Mundrucu in this life. In other words, it is a combination of the priest and doctor united in one, that arch-charlatan known to the North-American Indians as the "Medicine-man," and among the Mundrucus as the "Puge." CHAPTER SIX. THE CENTAURS OF THE "GRAN CHACO." I have elsewhere stated that a broad band of independent Indian territory--that is, territory never really subdued or possessed by the Spaniards--traverses the interior of South America, extending longitudinally throughout the whole continent. Beginning at Cape Horn, it ends in the peninsula of the free _Goajiros_, which projects into the Caribbean Sea,--in other words, it is nearly 5,000 miles in length. In breadth it varies much. In Patagonia and a portion of the Pampas country it extends from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and it is of still wider extent on the latitude of the Amazon river, where the whole country, from the Atlantic to the Peruvian Andes,--with the exception of some thinly-placed Brazilian settlements,--is occupied by tribes of independent Indians. At either point this territory will appear--upon maps--to be interrupted by tracts of country possessing civilised settlements. The names of towns and villages are set as thickly as if the country were well peopled; and numerous roads are traced, forming a labyrinthine network upon the paper. A broad belt of this kind extends from the Lower Parana (La Plate) to the Andes of Chili, constituting the upper provinces of the "Argentine Confederation;" another apparently joins the settlements of Bolivia and Brazil; and again in the north, the provinces of Venezuela appear to be united to those of New Granada. All this, however, is more apparent than real. The towns upon the maps are in general mere _rancherias_, or collections of huts; some of them are the names of fortified posts, and a large proportion are but ruins,--the ruins of monkish mission settlements long since gone to destruction, and with little else than the name on the map to testify that they ever had an existence. The roads are no roads at all, nothing more than tracings on the chart showing the general route of travel. Even across the Argentine provinces--where this nomenclature appears thickest upon the map--the horse Indian of the Pampas extends his forays at will; his "range" meeting, and, in some cases, "dovetailing" into that of the tribes dwelling upon the northern side of these settlements. The latter, in their turn, carry their plundering expeditions across to the Campos Parexis, on the headwaters of the Amazon, whence stretches the independent territory, far and wide to the Amazon itself; thence to the Orinoco, and across the _Llanos_ to the shores of the Maracaibo Gulf--the free range of the independent Goajiros. This immense belt of territory, then, is in actual possession of the aborigines. Although occupied at a few points by the white race,-- Spanish and Portuguese,--the occupation scarce deserves the name. The settlements are sparse and rather _retrograde_ than _progressive_. The Indian ranges through and around them, wherever and whenever his inclination leads him; and only when some humiliating treaty has secured him a temporary respite from hostilities does the colonist enjoy tranquillity. At other times he lives in continual dread, scarce daring to trust himself beyond the immediate vicinity of his house or village, both of which he has been under the necessity of fortifying. It is true that at one period of South-American history things were not quite so bad. When the Spanish nation was at the zenith of its power a different condition existed; but even then, in the territory indicated, there were large tracts circumstanced just as at the present hour,-- tracts which the Spaniards, with all their boasted warlike strength, were unable even to _explore_, much less to subdue. One of these was that which forms the subject of our sketch, "El Gran Chaco." Of all the tracts of wild territory existing in South America, and known by the different appellations of _Pampas, Paramos, Campos Parexis_, the _Puna_, the _Pajonal, Llanos_, and _Montanas_, there is none possessed of a greater interest than that of _El Gran Chaco_,--perhaps not one that equals it in this respect. It is interesting, not only from having a peculiar soil, climate, and productions, but quite as much from the character and history of its inhabitants, both of which present us with traits and episodes truly romantic. The "Gran Chaco" is 200,000 square miles in extent, or twice the size of the British Isles. Its eastern boundary is well-defined, being the Paraguay river, and its continuation the Parana, down to the point where the latter receives one of its great western tributaries, the Salado; and this last is usually regarded as the southern and western boundary of the Chaco. Northward its limits are scarcely so definite; though the highlands of Bolivia and the old missionary province of Chiquitos, forming the water-shed between the rivers of the La Plata and the Amazonian basins--may be geographically regarded as the termination of the Chaco in that direction. North and south it extends through eleven degrees of latitude; east and west it is of unequal breadth,--sometimes expanding, sometimes contracting, according to the ability of the white settlers along it borders to maintain their frontier. On its eastern side, as already stated, the frontier is definite, and terminates on the banks of the Paraguay and Parana. East of this line--coinciding almost with a meridian of longitude--the Indian of the Gran Chaco does not roam, the well-settled province of Corrientes and the dictatorial government of Paraguay presenting a firmer front of resistance; but neither does the colonist of these countries think of crossing to the western bank of the boundary river to form any establishment there. He dares not even set his foot upon the territory of the Chaco. For a thousand miles, up and down, the two races, European and American, hold the opposite banks of this great stream. They gaze across at each other: the one from the portico of his well-built mansion, or perhaps from the street of his town; the other, standing by his humble "toldo," or mat-covered tent,--more probably, upon the back of his half-wild horse, reined up for a moment on some projecting promontory that commands the view of the river. And thus have these two races gazed at each other for three centuries, with little other intercourse passing between them than that of a deadly hostility. The surface of the Gran Chaco is throughout of a champaign character. It may be described as a vast plain. It is not, however, a continuation of the Pampas, since the two are separated by a more broken tract of country, in which lie the sierras of Cordova and San Luis, with the Argentine settlements already mentioned. Besides, the two great plains differ essentially in their character, even to a greater extent than do the Pampas themselves from the desert steppes of Patagonia. Only a few of the animal and vegetable productions of the Gran Chaco are identical with those of the Pampas, and its Indian inhabitants are altogether unlike the sanguinary savages of the more southern plain. The Chaco, approaching many degrees nearer to the equator, is more tropical in its character; in fact, the northern portion of it is truly so, lying as it does within the torrid zone, and presenting the aspect of a tropical vegetation. Every inch of the Chaco is within the palm region; but in its northern half these beautiful trees abound in numberless species, yet unknown to the botanist, and forming the characteristic features of the landscape. Some grow in forests of many miles in extent, others only in "clumps," with open, grass-covered plains between, while still other species mingle their graceful fronds with the leaves and branches of dicotyledonous trees, or clasped in the embrace of luxuriant llianas and parasitical climbers form groves of the most variegated verdure and fantastic outlines. With such groves the whole surface of the Chaco country is enamelled; the intervals between being occupied by plains of rich waving grass, now and then tracts of morass covered with tall and elegant reeds, a few arid spots bristling with singular forms of _algarobia_ and _cactus_, and, in some places, isolated rocky mounds, of dome or conical shape, rising above the general level of the plains, as if intended to be used as watch-towers for their guardianship and safety. Such are the landscapes which the Grand Chaco presents to the eye--far different from the bald and uniform monotony exhibited in the aspect of either Prairie or Pampa; far grander and lovelier than either--in point of scenic loveliness, perhaps, unequalled on earth. No wonder, then, that the Indian of South America esteems it as an earthly Elysium; no wonder that the Spaniard dreams of it as such,--though to the Spanish priest and the Spanish soldier it has ever proved more of a Purgatory than a Paradise. Both have entered upon its borders, but neither has been able to dwell within its domain; and the attempts at its conquest, by sword and cross, have been alike unsuccessful,--equally and fatally repulsed, throughout a period of more than three hundred years. At this hour, as at the time of the Peruvian conquest,--as on the day when the ships of Mendoza sailed up the waters of the Parana,--the Gran Chaco is an unconquered country, owned by its aboriginal inhabitants, and by them alone. It is true that it is _claimed_, both by Spaniard and Portuguese; and by no less than four separate claimants belonging to these two nationalities. Brazil and Bolivia, Paraguay and the Argentine Confederation, all assert their title to a slice of this earthly paradise; and even quarrel as to how their boundary lines should intersect it! There is something extremely ludicrous in these claims,--since neither one nor other of the four powers can show the slightest basis for them. Not one of them can pretend to the claim of conquest; and far less can they rest their rights upon the basis of occupation or possession. So far from possessing the land, not one of them dare set foot over its borders; and they are only too well pleased if its present occupants are contented to remain within them. The claim, therefore, of both Spaniard and Portuguese, has no higher title, than that some three hundred and fifty years ago it was given them by the Pope,--a title not less ludicrous than their kissing the Pope's toe to obtain it! In the midst of these four conflicting claimants, there appears a fifth, and that is the real owner,--the "red Indian" himself. His claim has "three points of the law" in his favour,--possession,--and perhaps the fourth, too,--the power to keep possession. At all events, he has held it for three hundred years against all odds and all comers; and who knows that he may not hold it for three hundred years more?--only, it is to be hoped, for a different use, and under the influence of a more progressive civilisation. The Indian, then, is the undoubted lord of the "Gran Chaco." Let us drop in upon him, and see what sort of an Indian he is, and how he manages this majestic domain. After having feasted our eyes upon the rich scenery of the land,--upon the verdant plains, mottled with copses of "quebracho" and clumps of the _Caranday_ palm,--upon landscapes that resemble the most lordly parks, we look around for the mansions and the owners. The mansion is not there, but the owner stands before us. We are at once struck by his appearance: his person tall, and straight as a reed, his frame muscular, his limbs round and well-proportioned, piercing coal-black eyes, well-formed features, and slightly aquiline nose,--and perhaps we are a little surprised at the light colour of his skin. In this we note a decided peculiarity which distinguishes him from most other tribes of his race. It is not a _red_ Indian we behold, nor yet a _copper-coloured_ savage; but a man whose complexion is scarce darker than that of the mulatto, and not at all deeper in hue than many a Spaniard of Andalusian descent, who boasts possession of the purest "sangre azul;" not one shade darker than thousands of Portuguese dwelling upon the other side of the Brazilian frontier. And remember, that it is the _true_ skin of the Chaco Indian we have before our view,--and not a _painted_ one,--for here, almost for the first time, do we encounter the native complexion of the aboriginal, undisfigured by those horrid pigments which in these pages have so often glared before the eyes of our readers. Of paint, the Chaco Indian scarce knows the use; or, at all events, employs it sparingly, and only at intervals, on very particular and ceremonial occasions. We are spared, therefore, the describing his _escutcheon_, and a positive relief it is. It would be an interesting inquiry to trace out the cause of his thus abstaining from a custom almost universal among his race. Why does he abjure the paint? Is it because he cannot afford it, or that it is not procurable in his country? No; neither of these can be offered as a reason. The "annotto" bush (_Bixa orellana_), and the wild-indigo, abound in his territory; and he knows how to extract the colours of both,--for his women do extract them, and use them in dying the yarn of their webs. Other dyewoods--a multitude of others--he could easily obtain; and even the cochineal cactus, with its gaudy vermilion parasite, is indigenous to his land. It cannot be the scarcity of the material that prevents him from employing it,--what then? The cause is unexplained; but may it not be that this romantic savage, otherwise more highly gifted than the rest of his race, is endowed also with a truer sense of the beautiful and becoming? _Quien sabe_? Let it not be understood, however, that he is altogether free from the "taint,"--for he _does_ paint sometimes, as already admitted; and it must be remembered, moreover, that the Chaco Indians are not all of one tribe, nor of one community. There are many associations of them scattered over the face of this vast plain, who are not all alike, either in their habits or customs, but, on the contrary, very unlike; who are not even at all times friendly with each other, but occupied with feuds and _vendettas_ of the most deadly description. Some of these tribes paint most frightfully, while others of them go still farther, and _scarify_ their faces with the indelible _tattoo_,--a custom that in America is almost confined to the Indians of the Chaco and a few tribes on the southern tributaries of the Amazon. Happily this custom is on the decline: the men practise it no longer; but, by a singular perversity of taste, it is still universal among the women, and no Chaco belle would be esteemed beautiful without a cross of bluish-black dots upon her forehead, a line of like points extending from the angle of each eye to the ears, with a variety of similar markings upon her cheeks, arms, and bosom. All this is done with the point of a thorn,--the spine of a _mimosa_, or of the _caraguatay_ aloe; and the dark purple colour is obtained by infusing charcoal into the fresh and bleeding punctures. It is an operation that requires days to complete, and the pain from it is of the most acute and prolonged character, enduring until the poisoned wounds become cicatrised. And yet it is borne without a murmur,--just as people in civilised life bear the painful application of hair-dyes and tweezers. I need not say that the hair of the Chaco Indian does not need to be dyed,--that is, unless he were to fancy having it of a white, or a red, or yellow colour,--not an uncommon fancy among savages. His taste, however, does not run that way any more than among civilised dandies, and he is contented with its natural hue, which is that of the raven's wing. But he is not contented to leave it to its natural growth. Only a portion of it,--that which covers the upper part of his head,--is permitted to retain its full length and flowing glories. For the remainder, he has a peculiar _tonsure_ of his own; and the hair immediately over the forehead--and sometimes a stripe running all around above the ears, to the back of the head--is either close shaven with a sharp shell, or plucked entirely out by a pair of horn tweezers of native manufacture. Were it not that the long and luxuriant tresses that still remain,--covering his crown, as with a crest,--the shorn circle would assimilate him to some orders of friars; but, notwithstanding the similarity of tonsure, there is not much resemblance between a Chaco Indian and a brother of the crucifix and cowl. This mode of "dressing the hair" is not altogether peculiar to the Indian of the Gran Chaco. It is also practised by certain prairie tribes,--the Osage, Pawnee, and two or three others; but all these carry the "razor" a little higher up, leaving a mere patch, or "scalp-lock," upon the crown. The Chaco tribes are beardless by nature; and if a few hairs chance to show themselves upon cheek or chin, they are carefully "wed" out. In a like fashion both men and women serve their eyebrows and lashes,-- sacrificing these undoubted ornaments, as they say, to a principle of utility, since they allege that they can _see better without them_! They laugh at white men, who preserve these appendages, calling them "ostrich-eyed,"--from a resemblance which they perceive between hairy brows and the stiff, hair-like feathers that bristle round the eyes of the rhea, or American ostrich,--a well-known denizen of the Gran Chaco. The costume of the Chaco Indian is one of exceeding simplicity; and in this again we observe a peculiar trait of his mind. Instead of the tawdry and tinsel ornaments, in which most savages delight to array themselves, he is contented with a single strip of cloth, folded tightly around his loins. It is usually either a piece of white cotton, or of wool woven in a tri-colour of red, white, and blue, and of hues so brilliant, as to produce altogether a pretty effect. The wear of the women scarce differs from that of the men, and the covering of both, scant as it is, is neither inelegant nor immodest. It is well adapted to their mode of life, and to their climate, which is that of an eternal spring. When cold winds sweep over their grassy plains, they seek protection under the folds of a more ample covering, with which they are provided,--a cloak usually made of the soft fur of the "nutria," or South-American otter, or a robe of the beautiful spotted skin of the jaguar. They wear neither head-dress nor _chaussure_,--neither pendants from the nose, not the hideous lip ornaments seen among other tribes of South America; but many of them pierce the ears; and more especially the women, who split the delicate lobes, and insert into them spiral appendages of rolled palm-leaf, that hang dangling to their very shoulders. It will be observed, therefore, that among the Chaco tribes the women disfigure themselves more than the men, and all, no doubt, in the interest of _fashion_. It will be seen that the simple dress we have described leaves the limbs and most part of the body bare. To the superficial observer it might be deemed an inelegant costume, and perhaps so it would be among Europeans, or so-called "whites." The deformed figures of European people-- deformed by ages of toil and monarchical serfdom--would ill bear exposure to the light, neither would the tripe-coloured skin, of which they are so commonly conceited. A very different impression is produced by the rich brunette hue,--bronze, if you will,--especially when, as in the case of the Chaco Indian, it covers a body of proper shape, with arms and limbs in symmetrical proportion. Then, and then only, does costly clothing appear superfluous, and the eye at once admits that there is no fashion on earth equal to that of the human form itself. Above all does it appear graceful on horseback, and almost universally in this attitude does the Chaco Indian exhibit it. Scarce ever may we meet him afoot, but always on the back of his beautiful horse,--the two together presenting the aspect of the Centaur. And probably in the resemblance he approaches nearer to the true ideal of the Grecian myth, than any other horseman in the world; for the Chaco Indians differ not only from other "horse Indians" in their mode of equitation, but also from every other equestrian people. The absurd high-peaked saddles of Tartar and Arab, with their gaudy trappings, are unknown to him,-- unknown, too, the ridiculous paraphernalia, half-hiding the horse, in use among Mexicans, South-American Spaniards, and even the Indians of other tribes,--despised by him the plated bits, the embroidered bridles, and the tinkling spurs, so tickling to the vanity of other New-World equestrians. The Chaco horseman needs no such accessories to his elegance. Saddle he has none, or only the slightest patch of jaguar-skin,--spurs and stirrups are alike absent. Naked he sits upon his naked horse, the beautiful curvature of whose form is interrupted by no extraneous trappings,--even the thong that guides him scarce observable from its slightness. Who then can deny his resemblance to the centaur? Thus mounted, with no other saddle than that described, no bridle but a thin strip of raw hide looped around the lower jaw of his horse, he will gallop wildly over the plain, wheel in graceful curves to avoid the burrows of the _viscacha_, pass at full speed through the close-standing and often thorny trunks of the palms, or, if need be, stand erect upon the withers of his horse, like a "star rider" of the Hippodrome. In this attitude he looks abroad for his enemies, or the game of which he may be in search; and, thus elevated above surrounding objects, he discovers the ostrich far off upon the plain, the large deer (_cervus campestris_), and the beautiful spotted roebucks that browse in countless herds upon the grass-covered savannas. The dwelling of the Chaco Indian is a tent, not covered with skins, but usually with mats woven from the epidermis of young leaves of a palm-tree. It is set up by two long uprights and a ridge-pole, over which the mat is suspended--very much after the fashion of the _tente d'abri_ used by Zouave soldiers. His bed is a hammock, swung between the upright poles, or oftener, between two palm-trees growing near. He only seeks shelter in his tent when it rains, and he prevents its floor getting wet by digging a trench around the outside. He cares little for exposure to the sun; but his wife is more delicate, and usually carries over her head a large bunch of _rhea_ feathers, _a la parasol_, which protects her face from the hot scorching beams. The tent does not stand long in one situation. Ample as is the supply which Nature affords in the wilds of the Chaco, it is not all poured out in any one place. This would be too much convenience, and would result in an evil consequence. The receiver of such a benefit would soon become indolent, from the absence of all necessity for exertion; and not only his health, but his moral nature, would suffer from such abundance. Fortunately no such fate is likely to befall the Indian of the Chaco. The food upon which he subsists is derived from many varied sources, a few of which only are to be found in any one particular place, and each only at its own season of the year. For instance, upon the dry plains he pursues the _rhea_ and _viscacha_, the jaguar, puma, _and partridges_; in woods and marshy places the different species of wild hogs (peccaries). On the banks of rivers he encounters the tapir and capivara, and in their waters, fish, _utrias_, geese, and ducks. In the denser forest-covered tracts he must look for the various kinds of monkeys, which also constitute a portion of his food. When he would gather the legumes, of the _algarobias_--of several species--or collects the sugary sap of the _caraguatay_, he must visit the tracts where the _mimosae_ and _bromelias_ alone flourish; and then he employs much of his time in searching for the nests of wild bees, from the honey of which and the seeds of the _algarobia_ he distils a pleasant but highly intoxicating drink. To his credit, however, he uses this but sparingly, and only upon grand occasions of ceremony; how different from the bestial chicha-drinking revellers of the Pampas! These numerous journeys, and the avocations connecting with them, hinder the Chaco Indian from falling into habits of idleness, and preserve his health to a longevity that is remarkable: so much so, that "to live as long as a Chaco Indian," has become a proverbial expression in the settlements of South America. The old Styrian monk Dobrizhoffer has chronicled the astounding facts, that among these people a man of eighty is reckoned to be in the prime of manhood; that a hundred years is accounted a common age; and that many of them are still hale and hearty at the age of one hundred and twenty! Allowing for a little exaggeration in the statements of the monk, it is nevertheless certain that the Indians of the Gran Chaco, partly owing to their fine climate, and partly to their mode of life and subsistence, enjoy health and strength to a very old age, and to a degree unknown in less-favoured regions of the world. Of this there is ample and trustworthy testimony. The food of the Chaco Indian is of a simple character, and he makes no use either of salt or spices. He is usually the owner of a small herd of cattle and a few sheep, which he has obtained by plundering the neighbouring settlements of the Spaniards. It is towards those of the south and west that he generally directs his hostile forays; for he is at peace with the riverine provinces,--Brazilian, Paraguayan, and Correntine. In these excursions he travels long distances, crossing many a fordless stream and river, and taking along with him wife, children, tents, and utensils, in short, everything which he possesses. He fords the streams by swimming, using one hand to guide his horse. With this hand he can also propel himself, while in the other, he carries his long lance, on the top of which he poises any object he does not wish should be wetted. A "balza," called "pelota," made of bull's hide, and more like a square box than a boat, carries over the house utensils and the puppies, of which there are always a large number. The "precious baby" is also a passenger by the balza. The _pelota_ is propelled, or rather, pulled over, by means of a tiller-rope, held in the teeth of a strong swimmer, or tied to the tail of a horse; and thus the crossing is effected. Returning with his plunder--with herds of homed cattle or flocks of sheep--not unfrequently with human captives, women and children, the crossing becomes more difficult; but he is certain to effect it without loss, and almost without danger of being overtaken in the pursuit. His freebooting habits should not be censured too gravely. Many extenuating circumstances must be taken into consideration,--his wrongs and sanguinary persecutions. It must be remembered that the hostilities commenced on the opposite side; and with the Indian the habit is not altogether indigenous, but rather the result of the principle of retaliation. He is near kindred to the _Incas_,--in fact, some of the Chaco tribes are remnants of the scattered Peruvian race, and he still remembers the sanguinary slaughter of his ancestors by the Pizarros and Almagros. Therefore, using the phraseology of the French tribunals, we may say there are "extenuating circumstances in his favour." One circumstance undoubtedly speaks trumpet-tongued for the Chaco Indian; and that is, he does not _torture_ his captives, even when _white_ men have fallen into his hands! As to the captive women and children, their treatment is rather gentle than otherwise; in fact, they are adopted into the tribe, and share, alike with the rest, the pleasures as well as the hardships of a savage life. When the Chaco Indian possesses horned cattle and sheep, he eats mutton and beef; but if these are wanting, he must resort to the chase. He captures deer and ostriches by running them down with his swift steed, and piercing them with his long spear; and occasionally he uses the _bolas_. For smaller game he employs the bow and arrow, and fish are also caught by shooting them with arrows. The Chaco Indian is the owner of a breed of dogs, and large packs of these animals may be seen around his camping-ground, or following the cavalcade in its removal from place to place. They are small creatures,--supposed to be derived from a European stock, but they are wonderfully prolific, the female often bringing forth twelve puppies at a birth. They burrow in the ground, and subsist on the offal of the camp. They are used in running down the spotted roebuck, in hunting the capivara, the great ant-bear, _viscachas_, and other small animals. The tapir is taken in traps, and also speared, when the opportunity offers. His flesh is relished by the Chaco Indian, but his hide is of more consequence, as from it bags, whips, and various other articles can be manufactured. The peccary of two species (_dicotyles torquatus_ and _collaris_) is also pursued by the dogs, and speared by the hunter while pausing to bay the yelping pack; and the great American tiger (jaguar) is killed in a like manner. The slaying of this fierce and powerful quadruped is one of the feats of the Chaco hunter, and both its skin and flesh are articles of eager demand. The latter is particularly sought for; as by eating the flesh of so strong and courageous a creature the Indian fancies his own strength and courage will be increased. When a jaguar is killed, its carcass becomes the common property of all; and each individual of the tribe must have his slice, or "griskin,"--however small the piece may be after such multiplied subdivision! For the same reason, the flesh of the wild boar is relished; also that of the ant-bear--one of the most courageous of animals,--and of the tapir, on account of its great strength. The bread of the Chaco Indian is derived, as before mentioned, from several species of mimosae, called indefinitely _algarobias_, and by the missionary monks known as "Saint John's bread." Palms of various kinds furnish edible nuts; and there are many trees in the Chaco forests that produce luscious fruits. With these the Indian varies his diet, and also with wild honey,--a most important article, for reasons already assigned. In the Chaco there are stingless bees, of numerous distinct species,--a proof of the many blossoms which bloom as it were "unseen" in that flowery Elysium. The honey of these bees--of some of the species in particular--is known to be of the finest and purest quality. In the Spanish settlements it commands the highest price, and is very difficult to be obtained,--for the Chaco Indian is but little given to commerce, and only occasionally brings it to market. He has but few wants to satisfy, and cares not for the tinsel of the trader: hence it is that most of the honey he gathers is reserved for his own use. He searches for the bees' nest by observing the flight of the insect, as it passes back and forward over the wild parterre; and his keenness of sight--far surpassing that of a European--enables him to trace its movements in the air, and follow it to its hoard. He alleges that he could not accomplish this so well, were he encumbered with eyebrows and lashes, and offers this as one of his reasons for extracting these hirsute appendages. There may be something in what he says,--strange as it sounds to the ear of one who is _not_ a bee-hunter. He finds the nest at length,--sometimes in a hollow tree, sometimes upon a branch,-- the latter kind of nest being a large mass, of a substance like blotting-paper, and hanging suspended from the twigs. Sometimes he traces the insect to a subterranean dwelling; but it must be remarked that all these are different species of bees, that build their nests and construct the cells of their honeycombs each in its own favourite place, and according to its own fashion. The bee-hunter cares not how--so long as he can find the nest; though he would prefer being guided to one built upon a species of thick octagonal cactus, known as the habitat of the bee "tosimi." This preference is caused by the simple fact--that of all the honey in the Chaco, that of the bee "tosimi" is the _sweetest_. It is to be regretted that, with his many virtues, and his fine opportunity of exercising them, the Chaco Indian will not consent to remain in peace and good-will with all men. It seems a necessity of his nature to have an occasional shy at some enemy, whether white or of his own complexion. But, indeed, it would be ridiculous to censure him for this, since it appears also to be a vice universal among mankind; for where is the tribe or nation, savage or civilised, who does not practise it, whenever it feels bold enough or strong enough to do so? The Chaco Indian is not alone in his disregard of of the sixth commandment,--not the only being on earth who too frequently goes forth to battle. He has two distinct kinds of enemies,--one of European, the other of his own race,--almost of his own kindred, you would say. But it must be remembered that there are several distinct tribes dwelling in the Chaco; who, although presenting a certain similitude, are in many respects widely dissimilar; and, so far from forming one nation, or living in harmonious alliance with each other, are more frequently engaged in the most deadly hostilities. Their wars are all conducted on horseback,-- all cavalry skirmishes,--the Chaco Indian disdaining to touch the ground with his foot. Dismounted he would feel himself vanquished,--as much out of his element as a fish, out of water! His war weapons are of a primitive kind; they are the bow and lance, and a species of club, known in Spanish phraseology as the "macana." This last weapon is also found in the hands of several of the Amazonian tribes, though differing slightly in its construction. The "macana" of the Chaco Indian is a short, stout piece of heavy iron-wood,--usually a species known as the _quebracha_, or "axe-breaker," which grows plentifully throughout the Paraguayan countries. Numerous species are termed "quebracha" in Spanish-American countries, as there are numerous "iron-woods." That of Paraguay, like most others that have obtained this name, is a species of ebony-wood, or lignum-vitae,--in short, a true _guaiacum_. The wood is hard, solid, and heavy almost as metal; and therefore just the very stuff for a war-club. The macana of the Chaco Indian is short,--not much over two feet in length, and is used both for striking in the hand and throwing to a distance. It is thicker, and of course heavier, at both extremities; and the mode of grasping it is round the narrow part in the middle. The Indian youths, while training for war, practise throwing the macana, as other people play at skittles or quoits. The _lazo_ and _bolas_ are both in the hands of the Chaco tribes, but these contrivances are used sparingly, and more for hunting than war. They rarely trouble themselves with them on a real war expedition. Their chief weapons against an enemy are their long lances,--for these are far the most effective arms for a man mounted on horseback. Those of the Chaco Indian are of enormous length, their shafts being often fifteen feet from butt to barb. They use them also when mounting on horseback, in a fashion peculiar to themselves. They mount by the right side, contrary to our European mode; nor is there the slightest resemblance in any other respect between the two fashions of getting into the saddle. With the Chaco Indian there is no putting toes into stirrups,--no tugging at the poor steed's withers,--no clinging or climbing into the seat. He places the butt of his lance upon the ground, grasps it a little above his head with the right hand, and then raising his lithe body with an elastic spring, he drops like a cat upon the spine of his well-trained steed. A word,--a touch of his knee, or other well-understood signal,--and the animal is off like an arrow. When the Chaco Indian goes to war against the whites, his arms are those already described. He is not yet initiated into the use of guns and gunpowder, though he often experiences their deadly effects. Indeed, the wonder is that he could have maintained his independence so long, with such weapons opposed to him. Gunpowder has often given cowards the victory over brave men; but the Chaco Indian, even without gunpowder, has managed somehow or other to preserve his freedom. When he makes an expedition against the white settlements, he carries no shield or other defensive armour. He did so at one period of his history; but experience has taught him that these contrivances are of little use against leaden bullets; and he has thrown them away, taking them up again, however, when he goes to war with enemies of his own kind. In attacking a settlement or village of the whites, one of his favourite strategic plans is to set the houses on fire; and in this he very often succeeds,--almost certainly when the thatch chances to be dry. His plan is to project an arrow with a piece of blazing cotton fastened near the head. For this purpose he uses the strongest kind of bow, and lying upon his back, bends it with his feet. By this means a much longer range is obtained, and the aim is of little consequence, so long as the arrow falls upon the roof a house. On going to war with a hostile tribe of his own kind and colour, he equips himself in a manner altogether different His face is then painted most frightfully, and in the most hideous designs that his imagination can suggest, while his body is almost entirely covered by a complete suit of mail. The thick hide of the tapir furnishes him with the materials for helmet, cuirass, cuisses, greaves, everything,--and underneath is a lining of jaguar-skin. Thus accoutred he is in little danger from the arrows of the enemy, though he is also sadly encumbered in the management of his horse; and were he upon a plundering expedition against the whites, such an encumbrance would certainly bring him to grief. He knows that very well, and therefore he never goes in such guise upon any foray that is directed towards the settlements. The Chaco Indian has now been at peace with his eastern neighbours--both Spaniards and Portuguese--for a considerable length of time; but he still keeps up hostility with the settlements on the south,--those of Cordova and San Luis,--and often returns from these wretched provinces laden with booty. If he should chance to bring away anything that is of no use to him, or that may appear superfluous in his savage home,--a harp or guitar, a piece of costly furniture, or even a handsome horse,-- he is not required to throw it away: he knows that he can find purchasers on the other side of the river,--among the Spanish merchants of Corrientes or Paraguay, who are ready at any time to become the receivers of the property stolen from their kindred of the south! Such queer three-cornered dealings are also carried on in the northern countries of Spanish America,--in the provinces of Chihuahua, New Leon, and New Mexico. They are there called "cosas de Mexico." It appears they are equally "cosas de Paraguay." CHAPTER SEVEN. THE FEEGEES, OR MAN-EATERS. Have I a reader who has not heard of the "King of the Cannibal Islands?" I think I may take it for granted that there is not one in my large circle of boy-readers who has not heard of that royal anthropophagist, that "mighty king" who,-- "In one hut, Had fifty wives as black as _sut_, And fifty of a double smut-- That King of the Cannibal Islands." And yet, strange as it may appear, the old song was no exaggeration-- neither as regards the number of his wives, nor any other particular relating to King "Musty-fusty-shang." On the contrary, it presents a picture of the life and habits of his polygamous majesty that is, alas! too ludicrously like the truth. Though the king of the Cannibal Islands has been long known by reputation, people never had any very definite idea in what quarter of the world his majesty's dominions lay. Being, as the name implies, an island-kingdom, it was to be looked for of course, in some part of the ocean; and the Pacific Ocean or Great South Sea was generally regarded as that in which it was situated; but whether it was the Tonga Islands, or the Marquesas, or the Loo-Choos, or the Soo-loos--or some other group, that was entitled to the distinction of being the man-eating community, with the man-eating king at their head--was not very distinctly ascertained up to a recent period. On this head there is uncertainty no longer. Though in several groups of South-Sea Islands the horrible propensity is known to exist, yet the man-eaters, _par excellence_, the real _bona-fide_ followers of the habit, are the _Feegees_. Beyond doubt these are the greatest cannibals in all creation, their islands the true "Cannibal Islands," and their king no other than "Musty-fusty-shang" himself. Alas! the subject is too serious to jest upon, and it is not without pain that we employ our pen upon it. The truth must needs be told; and there is no reason why the world should not know how desperately wicked men may become under the influence of a despotism that leaves the masses in the power of the irresponsible few, with no law, either moral or physical, to restrain their unbridled passions. You will find the Feegee Islands, in the Pacific Ocean, in the latitude of 18 degrees south. This parallel passes nearly through the centre of the group. Their longitude is remarkable: it is the complement of the meridian of Greenwich--the line 180 degrees. Therefore, when it is noon in London, it is midnight among the Feegees. Take the intersection of these two lines, 18 degrees latitude and 180 degrees longitude as a centre; describe an imaginary circle, with a diameter of 300 miles; its circumference, with the slight exception of a small outlying group, will enclose, in a "ring fence," as it were, the whole Feegee archipelago. The group numbers, in all, no fewer than 225 islands and islets, of which between 80 and 90 are at present inhabited--the whole population being not much under 200,000. The estimates of writers differ widely on this point; some state 150,000--others, more than double this amount. There is reason to believe that 150,000 is too low. Say, then, 200,000; since the old adage: "In medias res," is generally true. Only two of the islands are large,--"Viti," and "Vanua." Viti is 90 miles long, by 50 in breadth, and Vanua 100 by 25. Some are what are known as "coral islands;" others are "volcanic," presenting all varieties of mountain aspect, rugged and sublime. A few of the mountain-peaks attain the elevation of 5,000 feet above sea-level, and every form is known--table-topped, dome-shaped, needle, and conical. In fact, no group in the Pacific affords so many varieties of form and aspect, as are to be observed in the Feegee archipelago. In sailing through these islands, the most lovely landscapes open out before the eye, the most picturesque groupings of rocks, ridges, and mountain-peaks, ravines filled with luxuriant vegetation, valleys covered with soft verdure, so divinely fair as to appear the abode of angelic beings. "So beautiful was their aspect," writes one who visited them, "that I could scarcely bring my mind to the realising sense of the well-known fact, that they were the abode of a savage, ferocious, and treacherous race of cannibals." Such, alas! is the fact, well-known, as the writer observes. Perhaps to no part of the world has Nature been more bountiful than to the Feegee Islands. She has here poured out her favours in very profusion; and the _cornucopia_ might be regarded as an emblem of the land. The richest products of a tropic vegetation flourish in an abundance elsewhere unknown, and the growth of valuable articles of food is almost spontaneous. Many kinds are really of spontaneous production; and those under cultivation are almost endless in numbers and variety. Yams grow to the length of six feet, weighing one hundred pounds each! and several varieties are cultivated. The sweet potato reaches the weight of five or six pounds, and the "taro" (_Arum esculentum_) also produces a root of enormous size, which forms the staple article of the Feegeean's food. Still another great tuber, weighing twenty or thirty pounds, and used as a liquorice, is the produce of the "massawe," or ti-tree (_dracaena terminalis_); and the root of the _piper methisticum_ often attains the weight of one hundred and forty pounds! This last is possessed of highly narcotic properties; and is the material universally used in the distillation, or rather brewing, of the native drink called "yaqona"--the "kava" of the South-Sea voyagers. Breadfruit grows in abundance: there being no less than nine varieties of this celebrated tree upon the different islands of the group, each producing a distinct kind of fruit; and what is equally remarkable, of the _musaceae_--the plantain and banana--there are in the Feegee isles thirty different kinds, either of spontaneous growth, or cultivated! All these are well distinguished from one another, and bear distinct appellations. Three kinds of cocoa-palm add to the extraordinary variety of vegetable food, as well as to the picturesqueness of the scenery; but there is no lack of lovely forms in the vegetation, where the beautiful ti-tree grows,-- where the fern and the screw-pines flourish,--where plantains and bananas unfold their broad bright leaves to the sun; where _arums_ spread their huge fronds mingling with the thick succulent blades of the bromelia, and where pawpaws, shaddocks, orange and lime-trees exhibit every hue of foliage, from deep-green to the most brilliant golden. Fruits of a hundred species are grown in the greatest plenty; the orange and the Papuan apple, the shaddock and lemon; in short, almost every species of fruit that will flourish in a tropical clime. In addition, many indigenous and valuable kinds, both of roots and fruits, are peculiar to the Feegee group, yet unknown and uncultivated in any other part of the world. Even the very cloth of the country--and a beautiful fabric it makes--is the product of an indigenous tree, the "malo" or paper-mulberry (_Brousonetia papyrifera_), the "tapa" of voyagers. Not only the material for dresses, but the tapestry for the adornment of their temples, the curtains and hangings of their houses, are all obtained from this valuable tree. We have not space for a more detailed account of the productions of these isles. It would fill a volume to describe with any degree of minuteness the various genera and species of its plants alone. Enough has been said to show how bountiful, or rather how prodigal, nature has been to the islands of the Feegeean Archipelago. Of the animal kingdom there is not much to be said. Of quadrupeds there is the usual paucity of species that is noticed everywhere throughout the Polynesian islands. Dogs and pigs are kept; the latter in considerable numbers, as the flesh forms an important article of food; but they are not indigenous to the Feegee group, though the period of their introduction is unknown. Two or three small rodents are the only quadrupeds yet known to be true natives of the soil. Reptiles are alike scarce in species,--though the turtle is common upon the coasts, and its fishery forms the regular occupation of a particular class of the inhabitants. The species of birds are more numerous, and there are parrots, peculiar to the islands, of rich and beautiful plumage. But we are not allowed to dwell upon these subjects. Interesting as may be the zoology and botany of the Feegeean Archipelago, both sink into insignificance when brought into comparison with its ethnology,--the natural history of its human inhabitants;--a subject of deep, but alas! of a terribly painful interest. By inquiry into the condition and character of these people, we shall see how little they have deserved the favours which nature has so bounteously bestowed upon them. In the portrait of the Feegeean you will expect something frightfully hideous,--knowing, as you already do, that he is an eater of human flesh,--a man of gigantic stature, swarthy skin, bloodshot eyes, gaunt, bony jaws, and terrific aspect. You will expect this man to be described as being naked,--or only with the skin of a wild beast upon his shoulders,--building no house, manufacturing no household or other utensils, and armed with a huge knotted club, which he is ever ready to use:--a man who dwells in a cavern, sleeps indifferently in the open air or under the shelter of a bush; in short, a true savage. That is the sort of creature you expect me to describe, and I confess that just such a physical aspect--just such a condition of personal hideousness--would be exactly in keeping with the moral deformity of the Feegeean. You would furthermore expect this savage to be almost devoid of intellectual power,--altogether wanting in moral sense,--without knowledge of right and wrong,--without knowledge of any kind,--without ideas. It seems but natural you should look for such characteristics in a _cannibal_. The portrait I am about to paint will disappoint you. I do not regret it, since it enables me to bring forward another testimony that man in his original nature is not a being of such desperate wickedness. That simple and primitive state, which men glibly call _savage_, is _not_ the condition favourable to cannibalism. I know that it is to such people that the habit is usually ascribed, but quite erroneously. The Andaman islander has been blamed with it simply becauses he chances to go naked, and looks, as he is, hungry and emaciated. The charge is proved false. The Bushman of South Africa has enjoyed a similar reputation. It also turns out to be a libel. The Carib long lived under the imputation, simply because he presented a fierce front to the Spanish tyrant, who would have enslaved him; and we have heard the same stigma cast upon a dozen other tribes, the _lowest savages_ being usually selected; in other words, those whose condition appeared the most wretched. In such cases the accusation has ever been found, upon investigation, to be erroneous. In the most primitive state in which man appears upon the earth, he is either without social organisation altogether, or if any do exist, it is either patriarchal of republican. Neither of these conditions is favourable to the development of vice,--much less the most horrible of all vices. It will not do to quote the character of the Bushman, or certain other of the low tribes, to refute this statement. These are not men in their primitive state ascending upward, but a condition altogether the reverse. They are the decaying remnants of some corrupt civilisation, sinking back into the dust out of which they were created. No--and I am happy to say it--man, as he originally came from the hands of the Creator, has no such horrid propensity as cannibalism. In his primitive state he has never been known to practise it,--except when the motives have been such as have equally tempted men professing the highest civilisation,--but this cannot be considered cannibalism. Where that exists in its true unmitigated form,--and unhappily it does so,-- the early stages of social organisation must have been passed; the republican and patriarchal forms must both have given place to the absolute and monarchical. This condition of things is absolutely necessary, before man can obtain sufficient power to prey upon his fellow-man to the extent of eating him. There can be no "cannibal" without a "king." So far from the Feegeean cannibals being _savages_, according to the ordinary acceptation of the term, they are in reality the very reverse. If we adhere to the usual meaning of the word civilisation, understanding by it a people possessing an intelligent knowledge of arts, living in well-built houses, fabricating fine goods, tilling their lands in a scientific and successful manner, practising the little politenesses and accomplishments of social life,--if these be the _criteria_ of civilisation, then it is no more than the truth to say that the standard possessed by the Feegee islanders is incomparably above that of the lower orders of most European nations. It is startling to reflect--startling as sad--that a people possessed of such intellectual power, and who have ever exercised it to a wonderful extent, in arts, manufactures, and even in the accomplishing of their own persons, should at the same time exhibit moral traits of such an opposite character. An atrocious cruelty,--an instinct for oppression, brutal and ferocious,--a heart pitiless as that of the fiend himself,--a hand ever ready to strike the murderous blow, even though the victim be a brother,--lips that lie in every word they speak,--a tongue ever bent on barbaric boasting,--a bosom that beats only with sentiments of treachery and abject cowardice,--these are the revolting characteristics of the Feegeean. Dark as is his skin, his soul is many shades darker. It is time, however, to descend to a more particular delineation of this man-eating monster; and first, we shall give a description of his personal appearance. The Feegeeans are above the average height of Europeans or white men: men of six feet are common among them, though few reach the height of six feet six. Corpulent persons are not common, though large and muscular men abound. Their figure corresponds more nearly to that of the white man than any other race known. The proportions of their limbs resemble those of northern Europeans, though some are narrower across the loins. Their chests are broad and sinewy, and their stout limbs and short, well-set necks are conspicuous characters. The outline of the face is a good oval; the mouth large, with white teeth regularly arranged--ah! those horrid teeth!--the nose is well-shaped, with full nostrils; yet quite distinct, as are the lips also, from the type of the African negro. Indeed, with the exception of their colour, they bear very little resemblance to the negro,--that is, the thick-lipped, flat-nosed negro of our fancy; for there are negro tribes in Africa whose features are as fine as those of the Feegeeans, or even as our own. In colour of skin the Feegeean is nearly, if not quite, as dark as the negro; but it may be remarked that there are different shades, as there are also among pure Ethiopians. In the Feegee group there are many men of mulatto colour, but these are not of the original Feegee stock. They are either a mixed offspring with the Tonga islander, or pure-bred Tonga islanders themselves who for the past two hundred years have been insinuating themselves into the social compact of the Feegeeans. These light-coloured people are mostly found on the eastern or windward side of the Feegee group,--that is, the side towards Tonga itself,--and the trade-winds will account for their immigration, which was at first purely accidental. They at present play a conspicuous part in the affairs of the Feegeeans, being in favour with the kings and great chiefs, partly on account of their being better sailors than the native Feegeeans, and partly on account of other services which these tyrants require them to perform. In some arts the Tongans are superior to the Feegeeans, but not in all. In pottery, wood-carving, making of mats or baskets, and the manufacture of the tapa cloth, the Feegeeans stand unrivalled over all the Pacific Ocean. We need say no more of the Tongans here; they are elsewhere described. Those dwelling in Feegee are not all fixed there for life. Some are so, and these are called Tonga-Feegeeans; the others are only visitors, giving their services temporarily to the Feegeean chiefs, or occupied in ship-building,--in constructing those great war canoes that have been the astonishment of South-Sea voyagers, and which Feegee sends forth from her dockyards in the greatest perfection. These, when finished by the Tongan strangers, are used to carry them back to their own islands, that lie about three hundred miles to the windward (southeast). But to continue the portrait of the Feegeean. We have touched almost every part of it except the hair; but this requires a most elaborate limning, such as the owner himself gives it. In its natural state the head of the Feegeean is covered by a mass of black hair, long, frizzled, and bushy, sometimes encroaching on the forehead, and joined by whiskers to a thick, round, or pointed beard, to which moustaches are often added. Black is, of course, the natural colour of the hair, but it is not always worn of this hue. Other colours are thought more becoming; and the hair, both of the men and women, is dyed in a variety of ways, lime burning it to a reddish or whitey-brown shade. A turmeric-yellow, or even a vermilion-red are not uncommon colours; but all these keep varying, according to the change of fashions at court! Commodore Wilkes, who has given a good deal of his time to an exploration of the Feegee Islands, states that the Feegee hair, in its natural condition, is straight, and not "frizzled," as described above-- he says that the frizzling is the work of the barber; but the Commodore is altogether mistaken in this idea. Thousands of Feegeeans, whose hair was never touched by a barber, nor dressed even by themselves, exhibit this peculiarity. We regret to add that this is only one of a thousand erroneous statements which the Commodore has made during his gigantic exploration. He may have been excellent at his own speciality of making soundings and laying down charts; but on all matters pertaining to natural history or ethnology, the worthy Commodore appears to have been purblind, and, indeed, his extensive staff of naturalists of every kind have produced far less than might have been expected from such excellent opportunities as they enjoyed. The observation of the Commodore will not stand the test of time, and cannot be depended upon as safe guides, excepting in those cases where he was an actual eye-witness. About his truthful intentions there can be no doubt whatever. Of one very peculiar performance among the Feegees he appears to have had actual demonstration, and as he has described this with sufficient minuteness, we shall copy his account; though, after what we have said, we should apologise largely for the liberty. The performance referred to is that of "barberising" a barbarian monarch, and may be taken as a proof of high civilisation among the Feegees. It will be seen that, with the exception of the tabooed fingers, there is not much difference between a barber of Bond Street and an artist of like calling in the Cannibal Islands. "The chiefs in particular," writes Commodore Wilkes, "pay great attention to the dressing of their heads, and for this purpose all of them have barbers, whose sole occupation is the care of their masters' heads. These barbers are called _a-vu-ni-ulu_. They are attached to the household of the chiefs in numbers of from two to a dozen. The duty is held to be of so sacred a nature, that their hands are tabooed from all other employment, and they are not even permitted to feed themselves. To dress the head of a chief requires several hours. The hair is made to spread out from the head, on every side, to a distance that is often eight inches. The beard, which is also carefully nursed, often reaches the breast, and when a Feegeean has these important parts of his person well dressed, he exhibits a degree of conceit that is not a little amusing. "In the process of dressing the hair it is well anointed with oil, mixed with a carbonaceous black, until it is completely saturated. The barber then takes the hairpin, which is a long and slender rod, made of tortoise-shell or bone, and proceeds to twitch almost every separate hair. This causes it to frizzle and stand erect. The bush of hair is then trimmed smooth by singeing it, until it has the appearance of an immense wig. When this has been finished, a piece of tapa, so fine as to resemble tissue-paper, is wound in light folds around it, to protect the hair from the dew or dust. This covering, which has the look of a turban, is called _sala_, and none but the chiefs are allowed to wear it; any attempt to assume this head-dress by a kai-si, or common person, would be immediately punished with death. The sala, when taken proper care of, will last three weeks or a month, and the hair is not dressed except when it is removed; but the high chiefs and dandies seldom allow a day to pass without changing the sala and having the hair put in order." With this account, we conclude our description of the Feegeean's person. His costume is of the simplest kind, and easily described. With the men it is merely a strip of "tapa" or "malo" cloth passed several times round the waist, and the ends left to hang down in front. The length of the hanging ends determines the rank of the wearer, and only in the case of kings or great chiefs are they allowed to touch the ground. A turban of the finest tapa cloth among the great mop of hair is another badge of rank, worn only by kings and chiefs; and this head-dress, which adds greatly to the dignified appearance of the wearer, is not always coiffed in the same fashion, but each chief adapts it to his own or the prevailing taste of the court. The dress of the women is a mere waist-belt, with a fringe from six to ten inches in length. It is worn longer after they have become wives, sometimes reaching near the knee, and forming a very picturesque garment. It is called the "liku," and many of them are manufactured with surprising skill and neatness, the material being obtained from various climbing plants of the forest. Under the "liku" the women are tattooed, and there only. Their men, on the contrary, do not undergo the tattoo; but on grand occasions paint their faces and bodies in the most fanciful colours and patterns. The kings and some chiefs suspend from their necks shell ornaments-- often as large as a dining-plate--that down upon the breast. Some, instead of this, wear a necklace of whales' teeth, carved to resemble claws, and bearing a very close resemblance to the necklaces of the Prairie Indians, made of the claws of the grizzly bear. Another kind of necklace--perhaps more appropriate to the Feegee--is a string of human teeth; and this kind is not unfrequently worn by these ferocious dandies. It must not be supposed that the scantiness of the Feegeean costume arises from poverty or stinginess on the part of the wearer. Nothing of the kind. It is simply because such is the fashion of the time. Were it otherwise, he could easily supply the materials, but he does not wish it otherwise. His climate is an eternal summer, and he has no need to encumber his body with extraneous clothing. With the exception of the turban upon his head, his king is as naked as himself. You may suppose that the Feegeeans have but little notions of modesty; but, strange as it may appear, this is in reality not one of their failings. They regard the "malo" and "liku" as the most modest of garments; and a man or woman seen in the streets without these scanty coverings would be in danger of being clubbed to death! It must be acknowledged that they are not _altogether_ depraved--for in this respect they present the most astounding anomaly. Certain virtues are ascribed to them, and as I have painted only the dark side of their character, it is but fair to give the other. Indeed, it is a pleasure to do this--though there is not enough of the favourable to make any great alteration in the picture. The whole character is so well described by one of the most acute observers who has yet visited the South Seas--the Wesleyan missionary Williams--that we borrow the description. "The aspect of the Feegeean," says Mr Williams, "with reference to his mental character, so far from supporting the decision which would thrust him almost out of mankind, presents many points of great interest, showing that, if an ordinary amount of attention were bestowed on him, he would take no mean rank in the human family, to which, hitherto, he has been a disgrace. Dull, barren stupidity forms no part of his character. His feelings are acute, but not lasting; his emotions easily roused, but transient; he can love truly, and hate deeply; he can sympathise with thorough sincerity, and feign with consummate skill; his fidelity and loyalty are strong and enduring, while his revenge never dies, but waits to avail itself of circumstances, or of the blackest treachery, to accomplish its purpose. His senses are keen, and so well employed, that he often excels the white man in ordinary things. Tact has been called `ready cash,' and of this the native of Feegee has a full share, enabling him to surmount at once many difficulties, and accomplish many tasks, that would have `fixed' an Englishman. Tools, cord, or packing materials, he finds directly, where the white man would be at a loss for either; and nature seems to him but a general store for his use, where the article he wants is always within reach. "In social diplomacy the Feegeean is very cautious and clever. That he ever paid a visit merely _en passant_, is hard to be believed. If no request leaves his lips, he has brought the desire, and only waits for a good chance to present it now, or prepare the way for its favourable reception at some other time. His face and voice are all pleasantness; and he has the rare skill of finding out just the subject on which you most like to talk, or sees at once whether you desire silence. Barely will he fail to read your countenance; and the case must be urgent indeed which obliges him to ask a favour when he sees a frown. The more important he feels his business the more earnestly he protests that he has none at all; and the subject uppermost in his thoughts comes last to his lips, or is not even named; for he will make a second, or even a third visit, rather than risk a failure through precipitancy. He seems to read other men by intuition, especially where selfishness or lust are prominent traits. If it serves his purpose, he will study difficult and peculiar characters, reserving the results for future use; if afterwards he wish to please them, he will know how, and if to annoy them, it will be done most exactly. "His sense of hearing is acute, and by a stroke of his nail he judges the ripeness of fruits, or soundness of various substances." From what source the Feegeean has sprung is purely a matter of conjecture. He has no history,--not even a tradition of when his ancestors first peopled the Archipelago in which we now find him. Of his race we have not a much clearer knowledge. Speculation places him in the same family as the "Papuan Negro," and he has some points of resemblance to this race, in the colour and frizzled hair; but there is as much difference between the wretched native of West Australia and the finely-developed Feegeean as there is between the stunted Laplander and the stalwart Norwegian; nor is the coarse rough skin of the true Papuan to be recognised in the smooth, glossy epidermis of the Feegee Islander. This, however, may be the result of better living; and certainly among the mountain-tribes of the Feegees, who lead lives of greater privation and hardship, the approach to the Papuan appearance is observable. It is hardly necessary to add that the Feegeean is of a race quite distinct from that known as the Polynesian or South-Sea Islander. This last is different not only in form, complexion, and language, but also in many important mental characteristics. It is to this race the Tongans belong, and its peculiarities will be sketched in treating of that people. Were we to enter upon a minute description of the manners and customs of the Feegees,--of their mode of house and canoe building,--of their arts and manufactures, for they possess both,--of their implements of agriculture and domestic use,--of their weapons of war,--their ceremonies of religion and court etiquette,--our task would require more space than is here allotted to us: it would in fact be as much as to describe the complete social economy of a civilised nation; and a whole volume would scarce suffice to contain such a description. In a sketch like the present, the account of these people requires to be given in the most condensed and synoptical form, and only those points can be touched upon that may appear of the greatest interest. It must be remembered that the civilisation of the Feegees--of course, I allude to their proficiency in the industrial arts--is entirely an indigenous growth. They have borrowed ideas from the Tongans,--as the Tongans have also from them,--but both are native productions of the South Sea, and not derived from any of the so-called great _centres_ of civilisation. Such as have sprung from these sources are of modern date, and make but a small feature in the panorama of Feegeean life. The houses they build are substantial, and suitable to their necessities. We cannot stay to note the architecture minutely. The private dwellings are usually about twenty-five feet long by fifteen in breadth, the interior forming one room, but with a sort of elevated divan at the end, sometimes screened with beautiful "tapa" curtains, and serving as the dormitory. The ground-plan of the house is that of an oblong square,--or, to speak more properly, a parallelogram. The walls are constructed of timber,-- being straight posts of cocoa-palm, tree-fern, bamboo, or breadfruit,-- the spaces between closely warped or otherwise filled in with reeds of cane or _calamus_. The thatch is of the leaves of the wild or cultivated sugar-cane,--sometimes of a _pandanus_,--thickly laid on, especially near the eaves, where it is carefully cropped, exposing an edge of from one to two feet in thickness. The roof has four faces,-- that is, it is a "hip roof." It is made with a very steep pitch, and comes down low, projecting fer over the heads of the upright timbers. This gives a sort of shaded veranda all around the house, and throws the rain quite clear of the walls. The ridge-pole is a peculiar feature; it is fastened to the ridge of the thatch by strong twisted ropes, that give it an ornamental appearance; and its carved ends project at both gables, or rather, over the "hip roofs," to the length of a foot, or more; it is further ornamented by white shells, those of the _cyprea ovula_ being most used for the purpose. The Feegee house presents altogether a picturesque and not inelegant appearance. The worst feature is the low door. There are usually two of them, neither in each house being over three feet in height. The Feegee assigns no reason why his door is made so low; but as he is frequently in expectation of a visitor, with a murderous bludgeon in his grasp, it is possible this may have something to do with his making the entrance so difficult. The houses of the chiefs, and the great council-house, or temple,-- called the "Bure,"--are built precisely in the same style; only that both are larger, and the doors, walls, and ridge-poles more elaborately ornamented. The fashionable style of decoration is a plaiting of cocoa-fibre, or "sinnet," which is worked and woven around the posts in regular figures of "relievo." The house described is not universal throughout all the group. There are many "orders" of architecture, and that prevailing in the Windward Islands is different from the style of the Leeward, and altogether of a better kind. Different districts have different forms. In one you may see a village looking like an assemblage of wicker baskets, while in another you might fancy it a collection of rustic arbours. A third seems a collection oblong hayricks, with holes in their sides; while, in a fourth these ricks are conical. It will be seen that, with this variety in housebuilding, it would be a tedious task to illustrate the complete architecture of Feegeeans. Even Master Kuskin himself would surrender it up in despair. Equally tedious would it be to describe the various implements or utensils which a Feegee house contains. The furniture is simple enough. There are neither chairs, tables, nor bedsteads. The bed is a beautiful mat spread on the dais, or divan; and in the houses of the rich the floors are covered with a similar carpet. These mats are of the finest texture, far superior to those made elsewhere. The materials used are the _Hibiscus tiliaceus, Pandanus odoratissimus_, and a species of rush. They are in great abundance in every house,--even the poorest person having his mat to sit or lie upon; and it is they that serve for the broad-spreading sails of the gigantic canoes. In addition to the mats, plenty of tapa cloth may be seen, and baskets of every shape and size,--the wicker being obtained from the rattan (_flagellaria_), and other sources. One piece of furniture deserves especial mention,--this is the pillow upon which the Feegee lord lays his head when he goes to sleep. It presents but little claim to the appellation of a _downy_ pillow; since it is a mere cylinder of hard polished wood, with short arched pedestals to it, to keep it firmly in its place. Its object is to keep the great frizzled mop from being tossed or disarranged, during the hours of repose; and Feegeean vanity enables the owner of the mop to endure this flinty bolster with the most uncomplaining equanimity. If he were possessed of the slightest spark of conscience, even this would be soft, compared with any pillow upon which he might rest his guilty head. In addition to the baskets, other vessels meet the eye. These are of pottery, as varied in shape and size as they are in kind. There are pots and pans, bowls, dishes, cups and saucers, jars and bottles,--many of them of rare and curious designs,--some red, some ornamented with a glaze obtained from the gum of the _kauri_ pine,--for this tree is also an indigenous production of the Feegee Islands. Though no potter's wheel is known to the Feegees, the proportions of their vessels are as just and true, and their polish as complete, as if Stafford had produced them. There are cooking-pots to be seen of immense size. These are jars formed with mouths wide enough to admit the largest joint. I dare not mention the kind of joint that is frequently cooked in those great caldrons. Ugh! the horrid pots! Their implements are equally varied and numerous,--some for manufacturing purposes, and others for agriculture. The latter are of the simplest kind. The Feegee plough is merely a pointed stick inserted deeply into the ground, and kept moving about till a lump of the soil is broken upward. This is crushed into mould, first by a light club, and afterwards pulverised with the fingers. The process is slow, but fast enough for the Feegeean, whose farm is only a garden. He requires no plough, neither bullocks nor horses. With taro-roots and sweet potatoes that weigh ten pounds each, yams and yaqonas over one hundred, and plantains producing bunches of a hundred and fifty fruits to the single head, why need he trouble himself by breaking up more surface? His single acre yields him as much vegetable wealth as fifty would to an English farmer! It is not to be supposed that he has it all to himself; no, nor half of it either; nor yet the fifth part of it. At least four fifths of his sweat has to be expended in tax or tithe; and this brings us to the form of his government. We shall not dwell long upon this subject. Suffice it to say that the great body of the people are in a condition of abject serfdom,--worse than slavery itself. They own nothing that they can call their own,--not their wives,--not their daughters,--not even their lives! All these may be taken from them at any hour. There is no law against despoiling them,--no check upon the will and pleasure of their chiefs or superiors; and, as these constitute a numerous body, the poor _canaille_ have no end of ruffian despoilers. It is an everyday act for a chief to rob, or _club to death_, one of the common people! and no unfrequent occurrence to be himself clubbed to death by his superior, the king! Of these _kings_ there are eight in Feegee,--not one, as the old song has it; but the words of the ballad will apply to each of them with sufficient appropriateness. Any one of them will answer to the character of "Musty-fusty-shang?" These kings have their residences on various islands, and the different parts of the group are distributed somewhat irregularly under their rule. Some islands, or parts of islands, are only tributary to them; others connected by a sort of deferential alliance; and there are communities quite independent, and living under the arbitrary sway of their own chieftains. The kings are not all of equal power or importance; but in this respect there have been many changes, even during the Feegeean historical period,--which extends back only to the beginning of the present century. Sometimes one is the most influential, sometimes another; and in most cases the pre-eminence is obtained by him who possesses the greatest amount of truculence and treachery. He who is most successful in murdering his rivals, and ridding himself of opposition, by the simple application of the club, usually succeeds in becoming for the time head "king of the Cannibal Islands." I do not mean that he reigns over the whole Archipelago. No king has yet succeeded in uniting all the islands under one government. He only gets so far as to be feared everywhere, and to have tributary presents, and all manner of debasing compliments offered to him. These kings have all their courts and court etiquette, just as their "royal brothers" elsewhere; and the ceremonials observed are quite as complicated and degrading to the dignity of man. The punishment for neglecting their observance is rather more severe in Feegee than elsewhere. For a decided or wilful non-compliance, the skull of the delinquent is frequently crushed in by the club of his majesty himself,--even in presence of a full "drawing-room." Lesser or accidental mistakes, or even the exhibition of an ungraceful _gaucherie_, are punished by the loss of a finger: the consequence of which is, that in Feegee there are many fingers missing! Indeed, a complete set is rather the exception than the rule. If a king or great chief should chance to miss his foot and slip down, it is the true _ton_ for all those who are near or around him to fall likewise,--the crowd coming down, literally like a "thousand of bricks!" I might detail a thousand customs to show how far the dignity of the human form is debased and disgraced upon Feegee soil; but the subject could be well illustrated nearer home. Flunkeyism is a fashion unfortunately not confined to the Feegeean archipelago; and though the forms in which it exhibits itself there may be different, the sentiment is still the same. It must ever appear where men are politically unequal,--wherever there is a class possessed of hereditary privileges. I come to the last,--the darkest feature in the Feegeean character,--the horrid crime and custom of cannibalism. I could paint a picture, and fill up the details with the testimony of scores of eyewitnesses,--a picture that would cause your heart to weep. It is too horrid to be given here. My pen declines the office; and, therefore, I must leave the painful story untold. CHAPTER EIGHT. THE TONGANS, OR FRIENDLY ISLANDERS. It is a pleasure to pass out of the company of the ferocious Feegees into that of another people, which, though near neighbours of the former, are different from them in almost every respect,--I mean the Tongans, or Friendly Islanders. This appellation scarce requires to be explained. Every one knows that it was bestowed upon them by the celebrated navigator Cook,--who although not the actual discoverer of the Tonga group, was the first who thoroughly explored these islands, and gave any reliable account of them to the civilised world. Tasman, who might be termed the "Dutch Captain Cook," is allowed to be their discoverer, so long ago as 1643; though there is reason to believe that some of the Spanish explorers from Peru may have touched at these islands before his time. Tasman, however, has fixed the record of his visit, and is therefore entitled to the credit of the discovery,--as he is also to that of Australia, New Zealand, Van Diemen's Land, and other now well-known islands of the South-western Pacific. Tasman bestowed upon three of the Tonga group the names--Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and Middleburgh; but, fortunately, geographers have acted in this matter with better taste than is their wont; and Tasman's Dutch national titles have fallen into disuse,--while the true native names of the islands have been restored to the map. This is what should be done with other Pacific islands as well; for it is difficult to conceive anything in worse taste than such titles as the Caroline and Loyalty Isles, Prince William's Land, King George's Island, and the ten thousand Albert and Victoria Lands which the genius of flattery, or rather flunkeyism, has so liberally distributed over the face of the earth. The title of Friendly Isles, bestowed by Cook upon the Tonga archipelago, deserves to live; since it is not only appropriate, but forms the record of a pleasant fact,--the pacific character of our earliest intercourse with these interesting people. It may be here remarked, that Mr Wylde and other superficial map-makers have taken a most unwarrantable liberty with this title. Instead of leaving it as bestowed by the great navigator,--applicable to the Tonga archipelago alone,--they have _stretched_ it to include that of the Samoans, and--would it be believed--that of the _Feegees_? It is hardly necessary to point out the extreme absurdity of such a classification: since it would be difficult to find two nationalities much more unlike than those of Tonga and Feegee. That they have many customs in common, is due (unfortunately for the Tongans) to the intercourse which proximity has produced; but in an ethnological sense, white is not a greater contrast to black, nor good to evil, than that which exists between a Tongan and a Feegeean. Cook never visited the Feegee archipelago,--he only saw some of these people while at Tongataboo, and heard of their country as being _a large island_. Had he visited that island,--or rather that group of over two hundred islands,--it is not at all likely he would have seen reason to extend to them the title which the map-makers have thought fit to bestow. Instead of "Friendly Islands," he might by way of contrast have called them the "Hostile Isles," or given them that--above all others most appropriate, and which they truly deserve to bear--that old title celebrated in song! the "Cannibal Islands." An observer so acute as Cook could scarce have overlooked the appropriateness of the appellation. The situation of the Tonga, or Friendly Isles, is easily registered in the memory. The parallel of 20 degrees south, and the meridian of 175 degrees west, very nearly intersect each other in Tofoa, which may be regarded as the central island of the group. It will thus be seen that their central point is 5 degrees east and 2 degrees south of the centre of the Feegeean archipelago, and the nearest islands of the two groups are about three hundred miles apart. It is worthy of observation, however, that the Tonga Isles have the advantage, as regards the wind. The _trades_ are in their favour; and from Tonga to Feegee, if we employ a landsman's phraseology, it is "down hill," while it is all "up hill" in the contrary direction. The consequence is, that many Tongans are constantly making voyages to the Feegee group,--a large number of them having settled there (as stated elsewhere),--while but a limited number of Feegeeans find their way to the Friendly Islands. There is another reason for this unequally-balanced migration: and that is, that the Tongans are much bolder and better sailors than their western neighbours; for although fer excel any other South-Sea islanders in the art of _building_ their canoes (or ships as they might reasonably be called), yet they are as far behind many others in the art of _sailing_ them. Their superiority in ship-building may be attributed, partly, to the excellent materials which these islands abundantly afford; though this is not the sole cause. However much we may deny to the Feegeeans the possession of moral qualities, we are at the same time forced to admit their great intellectual capacity,--as exhibited in the advanced state of their arts and manufactures. In intellectual capacity, however, the Friendly Islanders are their equals; and the superiority of the Feegeeans even in "canoe architecture" is no longer acknowledged. It is true the Tongans go to the Feegee group for most of their large double vessels; but that is for the reasons already stated,--the greater abundance and superior quality of the timber and other materials produced there. In the Feegee "dockyards," the Tongans build for themselves; and have even improved upon the borrowed pattern. This intercourse,--partaking somewhat of the character of an alliance,-- although in some respects advantageous to the Friendly Islanders, may be regarded, upon the whole, as unfortunate for them. If it has improved their knowledge in arts and manufactures, it has far more than counterbalanced this advantage by the damage done to their moral character. It is always much easier to make proselytes to vice than to virtue,--as is proved in this instance: for his intercourse with the ferocious Feegee has done much to deteriorate the character of the Tongan. From that source he has imbibed a fondness for war and other wicked customs; and, in all probability, had this influence been permitted to continue uninterrupted for a few years longer, the horrid habit of cannibalism--though entirely repugnant to the natural disposition of the Tongans--would have become common among them. Indeed, there can be little doubt that this would have been the ultimate consequence of the alliance; for already its precursors--human sacrifices and the vengeful immolation of enemies--had made their appearance upon the Friendly Islands. Happily for the Tongan, another influence--that of the missionaries--came just in time to avert this dire catastrophe; and, although this missionary interference has not been the best of its kind, it is still preferable to the paganism which it has partially succeeded in subduing. The Tongan archipelago is much less extensive than that of the Feegees,--the islands being of a limited number, and only five or six of them of any considerable size. Tongataboo, the largest, is about ninety miles in circumference. From the most southern of the group Eoo, to Yavan at the other extremity, it stretches, northerly or northeasterly, about two hundred miles, in a nearly direct line. The islands are all, with one or two exceptions, low-lying, their surface being diversified by a few hillocks or mounds, of fifty or sixty feet in height, most of which have the appearance of being artificial. Some of the smaller islets, as Kao, are mountains of some six hundred feet elevation, rising directly out of the sea; while Tofoa, near the eastern edge of the archipelago, presents the appearance of an _elevated_ tableland. The larger number of them are clothed with a rich tropical vegetation, both natural and cultivated, and their botany includes most of the species common to the other islands of the South Sea. We find the cocoa, and three other species of palm, the pandanus, the breadfruit in varieties, as also the useful musacaae,--the plantain, and banana. The ti-tree (_Dracaena terminalis_), the paper-mulberry (_Brousonetia papyrifera_), the sugar-cane, yams of many kinds, the tree yielding the well-known _turmeric_, the beautiful _casuarina_, and a hundred other sorts of plants, shrubs, or trees, valuable for the product of their roots or fruits, their sap and pith, of their trunks and branches, their leaves and the fibrous material of their bark. As a scenic decoration to the soil, there is no part of the world where more lovely landscapes are produced by the aid of a luxuriant vegetation. They are perhaps not equal in picturesque effect to those of the Feegee group,--where mountains form an adjunct to the scenery,-- but in point of soft, quiet beauty, the landscapes of the Tonga Islands are not surpassed by any others in the tropical world; and with the climate they enjoy--that of an endless summer--they might well answer to the description of the "abode of the Blessed." And, indeed, when Tasman first looked upon these islands, they perhaps merited the title more than any other spot on the habitable globe; for, if any people on this earth might be esteemed happy and blessed, surely it was the inhabitants of these fair isles of the far Southern Sea. Tasman even records the remarkable fact, that he saw no arms among them,--no weapons of war! and perhaps, at that time, neither the detestable trade nor its implements were known to them. Alas! in little more than a century afterwards, this peaceful aspect was no longer presented. When the great English navigator visited these islands, he found the war-club and spear in the hands of the people, both of Feegee pattern, and undoubtedly of the same ill-omened origin. The personal appearance of the Friendly Islanders differs not a great deal from that of the other South-Sea tribes or nations. Of course we speak only of the true Polynesians of the brown complexion, without reference to the black-skinned islanders--as the Feegees and others of the Papuan stock. The two have neither resemblance nor relationship to one another; and it would not be difficult to show that they are of a totally distinct origin. As for the blacks, it is not even certain that they are themselves of one original stock; for the splendidly-developed cannibal of Feegee presents very few features in common with the wretched kangaroo-eater of West Australia. Whether the black islanders (or Melanesians as they have been designated) originally came from one source, is still a question for ethnologists; but there can be no doubt as to the direction whence they entered upon the colonisation of the Pacific. That was certainly upon its western border, beyond which they have not made much progress: since the Feegeean archipelago is at the present time their most advanced station to the eastward. The brown or Polynesian races, on the contrary, began their migrations from the eastern border of the great ocean--in other words, they came from America; and the so-called Indians of America are, in my opinion, the _progenitors_, not the _descendants_, of these people of the Ocean world. If learned ethnologists will give their attention to this view of the subject, and disembarrass their minds of that fabulous old fancy, about an original stock situated somewhere (they know not exactly where) upon the steppes of Asia, they will perhaps arrive at a more rational hypothesis about the peopling of the so-called new worlds, both the American and Oceanic. They will be able to prove--what might be here done if space would permit--that the Polynesians are emigrants from tropical America, and that the Sandwich Islanders came originally from California, and not the Californians from the island homes of Hawaii. It is of slight importance here how this question may be viewed. Enough to know that the natives of the Tonga group bear a strong resemblance to those of the other Polynesian archipelagos--to the Otaheitans and New Zealanders, but most of all to the inhabitants of the Samoan or Navigators' Islands, of whom, indeed, they may be regarded as a branch, with a separate political and geographical existence. Their language also confirms the affinity, as it is merely a dialect of the common tongue spoken by all the Polynesians. Whatever difference exists between the Tongans and other Polynesians in point of personal appearance, is in favour of the former. The men are generally regarded as the best-looking of all South-Sea Islanders, and the women among the fairest of their sex. Many of them would be accounted beautiful in any part of the world; and as a general rule, they possess personal beauty in a fer higher degree than the much-talked-of Otaheitans. The Tongans are of tall stature--rather above than under that of European nations. Men of six feet are common enough; though few are seen of what might be termed gigantic proportions. In fact, the true medium size is almost universal, and the excess in either direction forms the exception. The bulk of their bodies is in perfect proportion to their height. Unlike the black Feegeeans--who are often bony and gaunt--the Tongans possess well-rounded arms and limbs; and the hands and feet, especially those of the women, are small and elegantly shaped. To give a delineation of their features would be a difficult task--since these are so varied in different individuals, that it would be almost impossible to select a good typical face. Indeed the same might be said of nearly every nation on the face of the earth; and the difficulty will be understood by your making an attempt to describe some face that will answer for every set of features in a large town, or even a small village; or still, with greater limitation, for the different individuals of a single family. Just such a variety there will be found among the faces of the Friendly Islanders, as you might note in the inhabitants of an English town or county; and hence the difficulty of making a correct likeness. A few characteristic points, however, may be given, both as to their features and complexion. Their lips are scarcely ever of a thick or negro form; and although the noses are in general rounded at the end, this rule is not universal;--many have genuine Roman noses, and what may be termed a full set of the best Italian features. There is also less difference between the sexes in regard to their features than is usually seen elsewhere--those of the women being only distinguished by their less size. The forms of the women constitute a more marked distinction; and among the beauties of Tonga are many that might be termed models in respect to shape and proportions. In colour, the Tongans are lighter than most other South-Sea Islanders. Some of the better classes of women--those least exposed to the open air--show skins of a light olive tint; and the children of all are nearly white after birth. They become browner less from age than exposure to the sun; for, as soon as they are able to be abroad, they scarce ever afterwards enter under the shadow of a roof, except during the hours of night. The Tongans have good eyes and teeth; but in this respect they are not superior to many other Oceanic tribes--even the black Feegeeans possessing both eyes and "ivories" scarce surpassed anywhere. The Tongans, however, have the advantage of their dusky neighbours in the matter of hair--their heads being clothed with a luxuriant growth of true hair. Sometimes it is quite straight, as among the American Indians, but oftener with a slight wave or undulation, or a curl approaching, but never quite arriving at the condition of "crisp." His hair in its natural colour is jet black; and it is to be regretted that the Tongans have not the good taste to leave it to its natural hue. On the contrary, their fashion is to stain it of a reddish-brown, a purple or an orange. The brown is obtained by the application of burnt coral, the purple from a vegetable dye applied poultice-fashion to the hair, and the orange is produced by a copious lathering of common turmeric,--with which the women also sometimes anoint their bodies, and those of their children. This fashion of hair-dyeing is also common to the Feegees, and whether they obtained it from the Tongans, or the Tongans from them, is an unsettled point. The more probable hypothesis would be, that among many other ugly customs, it had its origin in Feegee-land,--where, however, the people assign a reason for practising it very different from the mere motive of ornament. They allege that it also serves a useful purpose, in preventing the too great fructification of a breed of parasitic insects,--that would otherwise find--the immense mop of the frizzly Feegeean a most convenient dwelling-place, and a secure asylum from danger. This may have had something to do with the origin of the custom; but once established for purposes of utility, it is now confirmed, and kept up by the Tongans as a useless ornament. Their taste in the colour runs exactly counter to that of European fashionables. What a pity it is that the two could not make an exchange of hair! Then both parties, like a pair of advertisements in the "Times," would exactly _fit_ each other. Besides the varied fashion in colours, there is also great variety in the styles in which the Tongans wear their hair. Some cut it short on one side of their head, leaving it at full length on the other; some shave a small patch, or cut off only a single lock; while others--and these certainly display the best taste--leave it to grow out in all its full luxuriance. In this, again, we find the European fashion reversed, for the women are those who wear it shortest. The men, although they are not without beard, usually crop this appendage very close, or shave it off altogether,--a piece of shell, or rather a pair of shells, serving them for a razor. The mode is to place the thin edge of one shell underneath the hair,-- just as a hair-cutter does his comb,--and with the edge of the other applied above, the hairs are rasped through and divided. There are regular barbers for this purpose, who by practice have been rendered exceedingly dexterous in its performance; and the victim of the operation alleges that there is little or no pain produced,--at all events, it does not bring the tears to his eyes, as a dull razor often does with us poor thin-skinned Europeans! The dress of the Tongans is very similar to that of the Otaheitans, so often described and well-known; but we cannot pass it here without remarking a notable peculiarity on the part of the Polynesian people, as exhibited in the character of their costume. The native tribes of almost all other warm climates content themselves with the most scant covering,--generally with no covering at all, but rarely with anything that may be termed a skirt. In South America most tribes wear the "guayuco,"--a mere strip around the loins, and among the Feegees the "malo" or "masi" of the men, and the scant "liku" of the women are the only excuse for a modest garment. In Africa we find tribes equally destitute of clothing, and the same remark will apply to the tropical countries all around the globe. Here, however, amongst a people dwelling in the middle of a vast ocean,--isolated from the whole civilised world, we find a natural instinct of modesty that does credit to their character, and is even in keeping with that character, as first observed by voyagers to the South Seas. Whatever acts of indelicacy may be alleged against the Otaheitans, this has been much exaggerated by their intercourse with immoral white men; but none of such criminal conduct can be charged against the natives of the Friendly Isles. On the contrary, the behaviour of these, both among themselves and in presence of European visitors, has been ever characterised by a modesty that would shame either Regent Street or Ratcliffe Highway. A description of the national costume of the Tongans, though often given, is not unworthy of a place here; and we shall give it as briefly as a proper understanding of it will allow. There is but one "garment" to be described, and that is the "pareu," which will be better understood, perhaps, by calling it a "petticoat." The material is usually of "tapa" cloth,--a fabric of native manufacture, to be described hereafter,--and the cutting out is one of the simplest of performances, requiring neither a tailor for the men, nor a dressmaker for the other sex, for every one can make their own pareu. It needs only to clip a piece of "tapa" cloth in the form of an "oblong square"-- an ample one, being about two yards either way. This is wrapped round the body,--the middle part against the small of the back,--and then both ends brought round to the front are lapped over each other as far as they will go, producing, of course, a double fold of the cloth. A girdle is next tied around the waist,--usually a cord of ornamental plait; and this divides the piece of tapa into body and skirt. The latter is of such a length as to stretch below the calf of the leg,-- sometimes down to the ankle,--and the upper part or body _would_ reach to the shoulders, if the weather required it, and often does _when the missionaries require it_. But not at any other time: such an ungraceful mode of wearing the pareu was never intended by the simple Tongans, who never dreamt of there being any immodesty in their fashion until told of it by their puritanical preceptors! Tongan-fashion, the pareu is a sort of tunic, and a most graceful garment to boot; Methodist fashion, it becomes a gown or rather a sleeveless wrapper that resembles a sack. But if the body part is not to be used in this way, how, you will ask, is it to be disposed of? Is it allowed to hang down outside, like the gown of a slattern woman, who has only half got into it? No such thing. The natural arrangement is both simple and peculiar; and produces, moreover, a costume that is not only characteristic but graceful to the eye that once becomes used to it. The upper half of the tapa cloth is neatly folded or turned, until it becomes a thick roll; and this roll, brought round the body, just above the girdle, is secured in that position. The swell thus produced causes the waist to appear smaller by contrast; and the effect of a well-formed bust, rising above the roll of tapa cloth, is undoubtedly striking and elegant. In cold weather, but more especially at night, the roll is taken out, and the shoulders are then covered; for it is to be observed that the pareu, worn by day as a dress, is also kept on at night as a sleeping-gown, more especially by those who possess only a limited wardrobe. It is not always the cold that requires it to be kept on at night. It is more used, at this time, as a protection against the mosquitoes, that abound amidst the luxuriant vegetation of the Tongan Islands. The "pareu" is not always made of the "tapa" cloth. Fine mats, woven from the fibres of the screw-pine (pandanus), are equally in vogue; and, upon festive occasions, a full-dress pareu is embellished with red feather-work, adding greatly to the elegance and picturesqueness of its appearance. A coarser and scantier pareu is to be seen among the poorer people, the material of which is a rough tapa, fabricated from the bark of the breadfruit, and not unfrequently this is only a mere strip wrapped around the loins; in other words, a "malo," "maro," or "maso,"-- as it is indifferently written in the varied orthography of the voyagers. Having described this only and unique garment, we have finished with the costume of the Tongan Islanders, both men and women,-- for both wear the pareu alike. The head is almost universally uncovered; and no head-dress is ever worn unless a cap of feathers by the great chiefs, and this only upon rare and grand occasions. It is a sort of chaplet encircling the head, and deeper in front than behind. Over the forehead the plumes stand up to a height of twelve or fifteen inches, gradually lowering on each side as the ray extends backward beyond the ears. The main row is made with the beautiful tail-plumes of the tropic bird _Phaeton aetherus_, while the front or fillet part of the cap is ornamented with the scarlet feathers of a species of parrot. The head-dress of the women consists simply of fresh flowers: a profusion of which--among others the beautiful blossoms of the orange-- is always easily obtained. An ear-pendant is also worn,--a piece of ivory of about two inches in length, passed through two holes, pierced in the lobe of the ear for this purpose. The pendant hangs horizontally, the two holes balancing it, and keeping it in position. A necklace also of pearl-shells, shaped into beads, is worn. Sometimes a string of the seeds of the pandanus is added, and an additional ornament is an armlet of mother-o'-pearl, fashioned into the form of a ring. Only the men tattoo themselves; and the process is confined to that portion of the body from the waist to the thighs, which is always covered with the pareu. The practice of tattooing perhaps first originated in the desire to equalise age with youth, and to hide an ugly physiognomy. But the Tongan Islander has no ugliness to conceal, and both men and women have had the good taste to refrain from disfiguring the fair features which nature has so bountifully bestowed upon them. The only marks of tattoo to be seen upon the women are a few fine lines upon the palms of their hands; nor do they disfigure their fair skins with the hideous pigments so much in use among other tribes, of what we are in the habit of terming _savages_. They anoint the body with a fine oil procured from the cocoanut, and which is also perfumed by various kinds of flowers that are allowed to macerate in the oil; but this toilet is somewhat expensive, and is only practised by the better classes of the community. All, however, both rich and poor, are addicted to habits of extreme cleanliness, and bathing in fresh water is a frequent performance. They object to bathing in the sea; and when they do so, always finish the bath by pouring fresh water over their bodies,--a practice which they allege prevents the skin from becoming rough, which the sea-water would otherwise make it. House architecture in the Tongan Islands is in rather a backward state. They have produced no Wrens nor Inigo Joneses; but this arises from a natural cause. They have no need for great architects,--scarce any need for houses either,--and only the richer Tongans erect any dwelling more pretentious than a mere shed. A few posts of palm-trunks are set up, and upon these are placed the cross-beams, rafters, and roof. Pandanus leaves, or those of the sugar-cane, form the thatch; and the sides are left open underneath. In the houses of the chiefs and more wealthy people there are walls of pandanus mats, fastened to the uprights; and some of these houses are of considerable size and neatly built. The interiors are kept scrupulously clean,--the floors being covered with beautiful mats woven in coloured patterns, and presenting all the gay appearance of costly carpeting. There are neither chairs nor tables. The men sit tailor-fashion, and the women in a reclining posture, with both limbs turned a little to one side and backwards. A curious enclosure or partition is formed by setting a stiff mat, of about two feet width, upon its edge,--the roll at each end steadying it and keeping it in an upright position. The utensils to be observed are dishes, bowls, and cups,--usually of calabash or cocoa-shells,--and an endless variety of baskets of the most ingenious plait and construction. The "stool-pillow" is also used; but differing from that of the Feegees in the horizontal piece having a hollow to receive the head. Many kinds of musical instruments may be seen,--the Pandean pipes, the nose-flute, and various kinds of bamboo drums, all of which have been minutely described by travellers. I am sorry to add that war-clubs and spears for a similar purpose are also to be observed conspicuous among the more useful implements of peace. Bows and arrows, too, are common; but these are only employed for shooting birds and small rodents, especially rats, that are very numerous and destructive to the crops. For food, the Tongans have the pig,--the same variety as is so generally distributed throughout the Oceanic Islands. It is stated that the Feegeeans obtained this animal from the Friendly Isles; but I am of opinion that in this case the benefit came the other way, as the _Sus Papua_ is more likely to have entered the South Sea from its leeward rather than its windward side. In all likelihood the dog may have been derived from the eastern edge; but the pigs and poultry would seem to be of western origin,--western as regards the position of the Pacific. The principal food of the Friendly Islanders, however, is of a vegetable nature, and consists of yams, breadfruit, taro, plantains, sweet potatoes, and, in fact, most of those roots and fruits common to the other islands of the Pacific. Fish also forms an important article of their food. They drink the "kava," or juice of the _Piper methisticum_--or rather of its roots chewed to a pulp; but they rarely indulge to that excess observed among the Feegees, and they are not over fond of the drink, except as a means of producing a species of intoxication which gives them a momentary pleasure. Many of them, especially the women, make wry faces while partaking of it; and no wonder they do, for it is at best a disgusting beverage. The time of the Tongan Islanders is passed pleasantly enough, when there is no wicked war upon hand. The men employ themselves in cultivating the ground or fishing; and here the woman is no longer the mere slave and drudge--as almost universally elsewhere among savage or even semi-civilised nations. This is a great fact, which tells a wondrous tale--which speaks trumpet-tongued to the credit of the Tongan Islander. Not only do the men share the labour with their more delicate companions, but everything else--their food, conversation, and every enjoyment of life. Both partake alike--eat together, drink together, and join at once in the festive ceremony. In their grand dances--or balls as they might more properly be termed--the women play an important part; and these exhibitions, though in the open air, are got up with an elegance and eclat that would not disgrace the most fashionable ballroom in Christendom. Their dances, indeed, are far more graceful than anything ever seen either at "Almacks" or the "Jardin Mabille." The principal employment of the men is in the cultivation of their yam and plantain grounds, many of which extend to the size of fields, with fences that would almost appear to have been erected as ornaments. These are of canes, closely set, raised to the height of six feet--wide spaces being left between the fences of different owners to serve as roads for the whole community. In the midst of these fields stand the sheds, or houses, surrounded by splendid forms of tropic vegetation, and forming pictures of a softly beautiful character. The men also occupy themselves in the construction of their canoes,--to procure the large ones, making a voyage as already stated, to the Feegee Islands, and sometimes remaining absent for several years. These, however, are usually professional boat-builders, and form but a very small proportion of the forty thousand people who inhabit the different islands of the Tongan archipelago. The men also occasionally occupy themselves in weaving mats and wicker baskets, and carving fancy toys out of wood and shells; but the chief part of the manufacturing business is in the hands of the women--more especially the making of the tapa cloth, already so often mentioned. An account of the manufacture may be here introduced, with the proviso, that it is carried on not only by the women of the Feegee group, but by those of nearly all the other Polynesian Islands. There are slight differences in the mode of manufacture, as well as in the quality of the fabric; but the account here given, both of the making and dyeing, will answer pretty nearly for all. The bark of the malo-tree, or "paper-mulberry," is taken off in strips, as long as possible, and then steeped in water, to facilitate the separation of the epidermis, which is effected by a large volute shell. In this state it is kept for some time, although fit for immediate use. A log, flattened on the upper side, is so fixed as to spring a little, and on this the strips of bark--or _masi_, as it is called--are beaten with an _iki_, or mallet, about two inches square, and grooved longitudinally on three of its sides. Two lengths of the wet _masi_ are generally beaten together, in order to secure greater strength--the gluten which they contain being sufficient to keep their fibres united. A two-inch strip can thus be beaten out to the width of a foot and a half; but the length is at the same time reduced. The pieces are neatly lapped together with the starch of the taro, or arrowroot, boiled whole; and thus reach a length of many yards. The "widths" are also joined by the same means laterally, so as to form pieces of fifteen or thirty feet square; and upon these, the ladies exhaust their ornamenting skill. The middle of the square is printed with a red-brown, by the following process:--Upon a convex board, several feet long, are arranged parallel, at about a finger-width apart, thin straight slips of bamboo, a quarter of an inch wide. By the side of these, curved pieces, formed of the midrib of cocoanut leaflets, are arranged. On the board thus prepared the cloth is laid, and rubbed over with a dye obtained from the _lauci_ (_Aleurites triloba_). The cloth of course, takes the dye upon those parts which receive pressure, being supported by the slips beneath; and thus shows the same pattern in the colour employed. A stronger preparation of the same dye, laid on with a sort of brush, is used to divide the square into oblong compartments, with large round or radiated dots in the centre. The _kesa_, or dye, when good, dries bright. Blank borders, two or three feet wide, are still left on two sides of the square; and to elaborate the ornamentation of these, so as to excite applause, is the pride of every lady. There is now an entire change of apparatus. The operator works on a plain board; the red dye gives place to a jet black; the pattern is now formed of a strip of banana-leaf placed on the upper surface of the cloth. Out of the leaf is cut the pattern--not more than an inch long--which the lady wishes to print upon the border, and holds by her first and middle finger, pressing it down with the thumb. Then taking a soft pad of cloth steeped in the dye, in her right hand, she rubs it firmly over the stencil, and a sharp figure is made. The practised fingers of the operator move quickly, but it is, after all, a tedious process. I regret to add, that the men employ themselves in an art of less utility: the manufacture of war weapons--clubs and spears--which the people of the different islands, and even those of the same, too often brandish against one another. This war spirit is entirely owing to their intercourse with the ferocious Feegees, whose boasting and ambitious spirit they are too prone to emulate. In fact, their admiration of the Feegee habits is something surprising; and can only be accounted for by the fact, that while visiting these savages and professed warriors, the Tongans have become imbued with a certain fear of them. They acknowledge the more reckless spirit of their allies, and are also aware that in intellectual capacity the black men are not inferior to themselves. They certainly are inferior in courage, as in every good moral quality; but the Tongans can hardly believe this, since their cruel and ferocious conduct seems to give colour to the contrary idea. In fact, it is this that inspires them with a kind of respect, which has no other foundation than a vague sense of fear. Hence they endeavour to emulate the actions that produce this fear, and this leads them to go to war with one another. It is to be regretted that the missionaries have supplied them with a motive. Their late wars are solely due to missionary influence,--for Methodism upon the Tongan Islands has adopted one of the doctrines of Mahomet, and believes in the faith being propagated by the sword! A usurper, who wishes to be king over the whole group, has embraced the Methodist form of Christianity, and linked himself with its teachers,-- who offer to aid him with all their influence; and these formerly peaceful islands now present the painful spectacle of a divided nationality,--the "Christian party," and the "Devil's party." The object of conquest on the part of the former is to place the Devil's party under the absolute sovereignty of a despot, whose laws will be dictated by his missionary ministers. Of the mildness of these laws we have already some specimens, which of course extend only to the "Christianised." One of them, which refers to the mode of wearing the pareu, has been already hinted at,--and another is a still more off-hand piece of legislation: being an edict that no one hereafter shall be permitted to smoke tobacco, under pain of a most severe punishment. When it is considered that the Tongan Islander enjoys the "weed" (and grows it too) more than almost any other smoker in creation, the severity of the "taboo" may be understood. But it is very certain, if his Methodist majesty were once firmly seated on his throne, _bluer_ laws than this would speedily be proclaimed. The American Commodore Wilkes found things in this warlike attitude when he visited the Tongan Islands; but perceiving that the right was clearly on the side of the "Devil's party," declined to interfere; or rather, his interference, which would have speedily brought peace, was rejected by the Christian party, instigated by the sanguinary spirit of their "Christian" teachers. Not so, Captain Croker, of Her Britannic Majesty's service, who came shortly after. This unreflecting officer--loath to believe that royalty could be in the wrong--at once took side with the king and Christians, and dashed headlong into the affair. The melancholy result is well-known. It ended by Captain Croker leaving his body upon the field, alongside those of many of his brave tars; and a disgraceful retreat of the Christian party beyond the reach of their enemies. This interference of a British war-vessel in the affairs of the Tongan Islanders, offers a strong contrast to our conduct when in presence of the Feegees. There we have the fact recorded of British officers being eyewitnesses of the most horrid scenes,--wholesale murder and cannibalism,--with full power to stay the crime and full authority to punish it,--that authority which would have been freely given them by the accord and acclamation of the whole civilised world,--and yet they stood by, in the character of idle spectators, fearful of breaking through the delicate icy line of _non-intervention_! A strange theory it seems, that murder is no longer murder, when the murderer and his victim chance to be of a different nationality from our own! It is a distinction too delicate to bear the investigation of the philosophic mind; and perhaps will yet yield to a truer appreciation of the principles of justice. There was no such squeamishness displayed when royalty required support upon the Tongan Islands; nor ever is there when self-interest demands it otherwise. Mercy and justice may both fail to disarrange the hypocritical fallacy of non-intervention; but the principle always breaks down at the call of political convenience. CHAPTER NINE. THE TURCOMANS. Asia has been remarkable, from the earliest times, for having a large population without any fixed place of residence, but who lead a _nomade_ or wandering life. It is not the only quarter of the globe where this kind of people are found: as there are many _nomade_ nations in Africa, especially in the northern division of it; and if we take the Indian race into consideration, we find that both the North and South-American continents have their tribes of wandering people. It is in Asia, nevertheless, that we find this unsettled mode of life carried out to its greatest extent,--it is there that we find those great pastoral tribes,--or "hordes," as they have been termed,--who at different historical periods have not only increased to the numerical strength of large nationalities, but have also been powerful enough to overrun adjacent empires, pushing their conquests even into Europe itself. Such were the invasions of the Mongols under Zenghis Khan, the Tartars under Timour, and the Turks, whose degenerate descendants now so feebly hold the vast territory won by their wandering ancestors. The pastoral life, indeed, has its charms, that render it attractive to the natural disposition of man, and wherever the opportunity offers of following it, this life will be preferred to any other. It affords to man an abundant supply of all his most prominent wants, without requiring from him any very severe exertion, either of mind or body; and, considering the natural indolence of Asiatic people, it is not to be wondered at that so many of them betake themselves to this mode of existence. Their country, moreover, is peculiarly favourable to the development of a pastoral race. Perhaps not one third of the surface of the Asiatic continent is adapted to agriculture. At least one half of it is occupied by treeless, waterless plains, many of which have all the characters of a desert, where an agricultural people could not exist, or at all events, where their labour would be rewarded by only the most scant and precarious returns. Even a pastoral people in these regions would find but a sorry subsistence, were they confined to one spot; for the luxurious herbage which, for the most part, characterises the great savanna plains of America, is either altogether wanting upon the _steppes_ of Asia, or at best very meagre and inconstant. A fixed abode is therefore impossible, except in the most fertile tracts or _oases_: elsewhere, the nomad life is a necessity arising from the circumstances of the soil. It would be difficult to define exactly the limits of the territory occupied by the wandering races in Asia; but in a general way it may be said that the whole central portion of the continent is thus peopled: indeed, much more than the central portion,--for, if we except the rich agricultural countries of Hindostan and a small portion of Persia, Arabia, and Turkey, the whole of Asia is of this character. The countries known as Balk and Bokara, Yarkand and Khiva, with several others of equal note, are merely the central points of oases,--large towns, supported rather by commerce than by the produce of agriculture, and having nomad tribes dwelling within sight of their walls. Even the present boundaries of Asiatic Turkey, Arabia and Persia, contain within them a large proportion of nomadic population; and the same is true of Eastern Poland and Russia in Europe. A portion of the Affghan and Belochee country is also inhabited by nomad people. These wandering people are of many different types and races of men; but there is a certain similarity in the habits and customs of all: as might be expected from the similar circumstances in which they are placed. It is always the more sterile steppes that are thus occupied; and this is easily accounted for: where fertile districts occur the nomad life is no longer necessary. Even a wandering tribe, entering upon such a tract, would no longer have a motive for leaving it, and would soon become attached to the soil,--in other words, would cease to be wanderers; and whether they turned their attention to the pursuit of agriculture, or not, they would be certain to give up their tent-life, and fix themselves in a permanent abode. This has been the history of many Asiatic tribes; but there are many others, again, who from time immemorial, have shown a repugnance to the idea of fixing themselves to the soil. They prefer the free roving life which the desert enables them to indulge in; and wandering from place to place as the choice of pasture guides them, occupy themselves entirely in feeding their flocks and herds,--the sole means of their subsistence. These never have been, and never could be, induced to reside in towns or villages. Nor is it that they have been driven into these desert tracts to seek shelter from political oppression,--as is the case with some of the native tribes of Africa and America. On the contrary, these Asiatic nomads are more often the aggressors than the objects of aggression. It is rather a matter of choice and propensity with them: as with those tribes of the Arabian race,--known as "Bedouins." The proportion of the Asiatic wandering population to those who dwell in towns, or fixed habitations, varies according to the nature of the country. In many extensive tracts, the former greatly exceed the latter; and the more sterile steppes are almost exclusively occupied by them. In general, they acknowledge the sovereignty of some of the great powers,--such as the empires of China, Russia, and Turkey, the kingdom of Persia, or that of several powerful khans, as those of Khiva and Bokara; but this sovereignty is, for the most part, little more than nominal, and their allegiance is readily thrown off, whenever they desire it. It is rarely so strong, as to enable any of the aforesaid powers to draw a heavy tribute from them; and some of the more warlike of the wandering tribes are much courted and caressed,--especially when their war services are required. In general they claim an hereditary right to the territories over which they roam, and pay but little heed to the orders of either king, khan, or emperor. As already stated, these wandering people are of different races; in fact, they are of nearly all the varieties indigenous to the Asiatic continent; and a whole catalogue of names might be given, of which Mongols, Tartars, Turcomans, Usbecks, Kirghees, and Calmucks, are perhaps the most generally known. It has been also stated that in many points they are alike; but there are also many important particulars in which they differ,--physical, moral, and intellectual. Some of the "hordes," or tribes, are purely pastoral in their mode of life, and of mild and hospital dispositions, exceedingly fond of strangers, and kind to such as come among them. Others again are averse to all intercourse with others, than those of their own race and religion, and are shy, if not inhospitable, when visited by strangers. But there is a class of a still less creditable character,--a large number of tribes that are not only inhospitable, and hostile to strangers, but as ferocious and bloodthirsty as any savages in Africa, America, or the South-Sea Islands. As a fair specimen of this class we select the Turcomans; in fact, they may be regarded as its _type_; and our description henceforward may be regarded as applying particularly to these people. The country of the Turcomans will be found upon the map without difficulty; but to define its exact boundary would be an impossibility, since none such exists. Were you to travel along the whole northern frontier of Persia, almost from the gates of Teheran to the eastern frontier of the kingdom,--or even further towards Balk,--you would be pretty sure of hearing of Turcoman robbers, and in very great danger of being plundered by them,--which last misfortune would be of less importance, as it would only be the prelude to your being either murdered on the spot, or carried off by them into captivity. In making this journey along the northern frontier of Persia, you would become acquainted with the whereabouts of the Turcoman hordes; or rather you would discover that the whole north part of Persia,--a good broad band of it extending hundreds of miles into its interior,--if not absolutely in possession of the Turcomans, is overrun and plundered by them at will. This, however, is not their home,--it is only their "stamping-ground,"--the home of their victims. Their place of habitual residence lies further to the north, and is defined with tolerable accuracy by its having the whole eastern shore of the Caspian Sea for its western border, while the Amou River (the ancient Oxus) may be generally regarded as the limit of their range towards the east. Some tribes go still further east than the Amou; but those more particularly distinguished for their plundering habits dwell within the limits described,--north of the Elburz Mountains, and on the great steppe of Kaurezm, where they are contiguous to the Usbeck community of Khiva. The whole of this immense territory, stretching from the eastern shore of the Caspian to the Amou and Aral Sea, may be characterised as a true desert. Here and there oases exist, but none of any importance, save the country of Khiva itself: and even that is but a mere irrigated strip, lying on both banks of the Oxus. Indeed, it is difficult to believe that this territory of Khiva, so insignificant in superficial extent, could have been the seat of a powerful empire, as it once was. The desert, then, between the Caspian Sea and the Oxus River may be regarded as the true land of the Turcomans, and is usually known as Turcomania. It is to be remembered, however, that there are some kindred tribes not included within the boundaries of Turcomania--for the Turkistan of the geographers is a country of much larger extent; besides, an important division of the Turcoman races are settlers, or rather wanderers in Armenia. To Turcomania proper, then, and its inhabitants, we shall confine our remarks. We shall not stay to inquire into the origin of the people now called Turcomans. Were we to speculate upon that point, we should make but little progress in an account of their habits and mode of living. They are usually regarded as of Tartar origin, or of Usbeck origin, or of Mongolian race; and in giving this account of them, I am certain that I add very little to your knowledge of what they really are. The truth is, that the words Tartar and Mongol and some half-dozen other titles, used in relation to the Asiatic races, are without any very definite signification,--simply because the relative distinctions of the different nations of that continent are very imperfectly known; and learned ethnologists are river loath to a confession of limited knowledge. One of this class, Mr Latham,--who requires only a few words of their language to decide categorically to what variety of the human race a people belongs,--has unfortunately added to this confusion by pronouncing nearly everybody _Mongolian_: placing the proud turbaned Turk in juxtaposition with the squat and stunted Laplander! Of course this is only bringing us back to the old idea, that all men are sprung from a single pair of first parents,--a doctrine, which, though popular, is difficult to reconcile with the rational knowledge derived from ethnological investigation. It matters little to our present purpose from what original race the Turcoman has descended: whether he be a true Turk, as some regard him, or whether he is a descendant of the followers of the Great Khan of the Tartars. He possesses the Tartar physiognomy to a considerable extent-- some of the tribes more than others being thus distinguished,--and high cheek-bones, flat noses, small oblique eyes, and scanty beards, are all characteristics that are very generally observed. Some of these peculiarities are more common among the women than the men--many of the latter being tall, stout, and well-made, while a large number may be seen who have the regular features of a Persian. Perhaps it would be safest to consider the present Turcoman tribes as not belonging to a pure stock, but rather an admixture of several; and their habit of taking slaves from other nations, which has for a long time existed among them, would give probability to this idea. At all events, without some such hypothesis, it is difficult to account for the wonderful variety, both in feature and form, that is found among them. Their complexion is swarthy, in some cases almost brown as that of an American Indian; but constant exposure to the open air, in all sorts of weather, has much to do in darkening the hue of their skin. The newborn children are nearly as white as those of the Persians; and their young girls exhibit a ruddy brunette tint, which some consider even more pleasing than a perfectly white complexion. The costume of the Turcoman, like that of most Oriental nations, is rich and picturesque. The dress of the men varies according to rank. Some of the very poorer people wear nothing but a short woollen tonic or shirt, with a pair of coarse woollen drawers. Others, in place of this shirt, are clad in a longer garment, a sort of robe or wrapper, like a gentleman's dressing-gown, made of camel's-hair cloth, or some coarse brown woollen staff. But the true Turcoman costume, and that worn by all who can afford it, consists of a garment of mixed silk and cotton,-- the _baronnee_,--which descends below the knee, and though open in front, is made to button over the breast quite up to the neck. A gay sash around the waist adds to the effect; and below the skirt are seen trowsers of cotton or even silk. Cloth wrappers around the legs serve in the place of boots or gaiters; and on the feet are worn slippers of Persian fashion, with socks of soft Koordish leather. As the material of which the baronnee is made is of good quality--a mixture of silk and cotton--and as the fabric is always striped or checkered in colours of red, blue, purple, and green, the effect produced is that of a certain picturesqueness. The head-dress adds to this appearance--being a high fur cap, with truncated top, the fur being that beautiful kind obtained from the skins of the Astracan lamb, well-known in commerce. These caps are of different colours, either black, red, or grey. Another style of head-dress much worn is a round-topped or helmet-shaped cap, made of quilted cotton-stuff; but this kind, although in use among the Turcomans, is a more characteristic costume of their enemies, the "Koords," who wear it universally. The "jubba" is a kind of robe generally intended to go over the other garments, and is usually of woollen or camel's-hair cloth. It is also made like a dressing-gown, with wide sleeves,--tight, however, around the wrist. It is of ample dimensions, and one side is lapped over the other across the front, like a double-breasted coat. The "jubba" is essentially a national garment. The dress of the women is exceedingly picturesque. It is thus minutely described by a traveller:-- "The head-dress of these women is singular enough: most of them wear a lofty cap, with a broad crown, resembling that of a soldier's cap called a shako. This is stuck upon the back of the head; and over it is thrown a silk handkerchief of very brilliant colours, which covers the top, and falls down on each side like a veil. The front of this is covered with ornaments of silver and gold, in various shapes; more frequently gold coins, mohrs, or tomauns, strung in rows, with silver bells or buttons, and chains depending from them; hearts and other fanciful forms, with stones set in them. The whole gives rather the idea of gorgeous trappings for a horse, than ornaments for a female. "The frames of these monstrous caps are made of light chips of wood, or split reeds, covered with cloth; and when they do not wear these, they wrap a cloth around their heads in the same form; and carelessly throw another, like a veil over it. The veil or curtain above spoken of covers the mouth; descending to the breast. Earrings are worn in the ears; and their long hair is divided, and plaited into four parts, disposed two on each side; one of which falls down behind the shoulders and one before, and both are strung with a profusion of gold ornaments, agates, cornelians, and other stones, according to the means and quality of the wearer. The rest of their dress consists of a long, loose vest or shirt, with sleeves, which covers the whole person down to the feet, and is open at the breast, in front, but buttons or ties close up to the neck: this is made of silk or cotton-stuff, red, blue, green, striped red, and yellow, checked, or various-coloured: underneath this, are the zere-jameh, or drawers, also of silk or cotton; and some wear a short _peerahn_ or shirt of the same. This, I believe, is all; but in the cold weather they wear, in addition, jubbas, or coats like those of the men, of striped stuff made of silk and cotton; on their feet they generally wear slippers like those of the Persian women." The tents, or "portable houses" of the Turcomans--as their movable dwellings rather deserve to be called--differ from most structures of the kind in use elsewhere. They are thus described by the same intelligent traveller:-- "The portable wooden houses of the Turcomans have been referred to by several writers; but I am not aware that any exact description of their structure has been given. The frame is curiously constructed of light wood, disposed in laths of about an inch broad by three quarters thick, crossing one another diagonally, but at right angles, about a foot asunder, and pinned at each crossing with thongs of raw hide, so as to be movable; and the whole framework may be closed up or opened in the manner of those toys for children that represent a company of soldiers, and close or expand at will, so as to form open or close column. "One or more pieces thus constructed being stretched out, surround a circular space of from fifteen to twenty feet diameter; and form the skeleton of the walls,--which are made firm by bands of hair or woollen ropes, hitched round the end of each rod, to secure it in its position. From the upper ends of these, rods of a similar kind, bent near the wall end into somewhat less than a right angle, are so disposed that the longer portions slope to the centre, and being tied with ropes, form the framework of a roof. Over this is thrown a covering of black _numud_, leaving in the centre a large hole to give vent to the smoke, and light to the dwelling. Similar numuds are wrapped round the walls; and outside of these, to keep all tight, is bound another frame, formed of split reeds or cane, or of very light and tough wood, tied together with strong twine, the pieces being perpendicular. This is itself secured by a strong, broad band of woven hair-stuff, which firmly unites. The large round opening at top is covered, as occasion requires, by a piece of numud, which is drawn off or on by a strong cord, like a curtain. If the wind be powerful, a stick is placed to leeward, which supports the fabric. "In most of these houses they do not keep a carpet or numud constantly spread; but the better classes use a carpet shaped somewhat in the form of a horseshoe, having the centre cut out for the fireplace, and the ends truncated, that those of inferior condition, or who do not choose to take off their boots, may sit down upon the ground. Upon this carpet they place one or two other numuds, as may be required, for guests of distinction. When they have women in the tent, a division of split reeds is made for their convenience; but the richer people have a separate tent for their private apartments. "The furniture consists of little more than camels and horses; _joals_, or bags in which their goods are packed, and which are often made of a very handsome species of worsted velvet carpet, of rich patterns; the swords, guns, spears, bows and arrows, and other implements of the family, with odds and ends of every description, may be seen hung on the ends of the wooden rods, which form very convenient pins for the purpose. Among some tribes all the domestic utensils are made of wood,--calleeoons, trays for presenting food, milk-vessels, etc: among others, all these things are formed of clay or metal. Upon the black tops of the tents may frequently be seen large white masses of sour curd, expressed from buttermilk, and set to dry as future store; this, broken down and mixed with water, forms a very pleasant acidulous drink, and is used as the basis of that intoxicating beverage called _kimmiz_. The most common and most refreshing drink which they offer to the weary and over-heated traveller in the forenoon is buttermilk, or sour curds and water; and, indeed, a modification of this, with some other simple sherbets, are the only liquors presented at their meals. "Such are the wooden houses of the Turcomans, one of which just makes a camel's load. There are poorer ones, of a less artificial construction, the framework of which is formed of reeds. "The encampment is generally square, enclosing an open space, or forming a broad street, the houses being ranged on either side, with their doors towards each other. At these may always be seen the most picturesque groups, occupied with their various domestic duties, or smoking their simple wooden _calleeoons_. The more important encampments are surrounded by a fence of reeds, which serve to protect the flocks from petty thefts." It is now our place to inquire how the Turcomans occupy their time. We have already described them as a pastoral and nomadic people; and, under ordinary circumstances, their employment consists in looking after their flocks. In a few of the more fertile oases they have habitations, or rather camps, of a more permanent character, where they cultivate a little corn or barley, to supply them with the material for bread; but these settlements, if they deserve the name, are only exceptional; and are used chiefly as a kind of head-quarters, where the women and property are kept, while the men themselves are absent on their thieving expeditions. More generally their herds are kept on the move, and are driven from place to place at short intervals of a few weeks or even days. The striking and pitching of their tents gives them employment; to which is added that of milking the cattle, and making the cheese and butter. The women, moreover, fill up their idle hours in weaving the coarse blankets, or "numuds," in plaiting mats, and manufacturing various articles of dress or household use. The more costly parts of their costume, however, are not of native manufacture: these are obtained by trade. The men alone look after the camels and horses, taking special care of the latter. Their flocks present a considerable variety of species. Besides horses, cattle, and sheep, they own many camels, and they have no less than three distinct varieties of this valuable animal in their possession,-- the dromedary with two humps, and the common camel. The third sort is a cross breed--or "mule"--between these two. The dromedary is slightly made, and swifter than either of the others, but it is not so powerful as either; and being inferior as a beast of burden, is least cared for by the Turcomans. The one-humped camel is in more general use, and a good one will carry a load of six or seven hundred pounds with ease. The mule camel is more powerful than either of its parents, and also more docile and capable of greater endurance. It grows to a very large size, but is low in proportion to its bulk, with stout, bony legs, and a large quantity of coarse, shaggy hair on its haunch, shoulders, neck, and even on the crown of its head, which gives it a strange, somewhat fantastic appearance. Its colour varies from light grey to brown, though it is as often nearly black. This kind of camel will carry a load of from eight hundred to a thousand pounds. The Turcoman sheep are of the large-tailed breed,--their tails often attaining enormous dimensions. This variety of sheep is a true denizen of the desert, the fat tail being unquestionably a provision of nature against seasons of hunger,--just as in the single protuberance, or "hump," upon the camel. The horse of the Turcoman is the animal upon which he sets most value. The breed possessed by him is celebrated over all Eastern Asia, as that of the Arab is in the West. They cannot be regarded, however, as handsome horses, according to the true standard of "horse beauty;" but the Turcoman cares less for this than for other good qualities. In point of speed and endurance they are not excelled, if equalled, by the horses of any other country. Their size is that of the common horse, but they are very different in make. Their bodies are long in proportion to the bulk of carcass; and they do not appear to possess sufficient compactness of frame. Their legs are also long, generally falling off in muscular development below the knee-joint; and they would appear to an English jockey too narrow in the counter. They have also long necks, with large heavy heads. These are the points which are generally observed in the Turcoman horses; but it is to be remarked, that it is only when in an under-condition they look so ungraceful; and in this condition their owners are accustomed to keep them, especially when they have any very heavy service to perform. Feeding produces a better shape, and brings them much nearer to the look of a well-bred English horse. Their powers of endurance are indeed, almost incredible: when trained for a chappow, or plundering expedition, they will carry their rider and provisions for seven or eight days together, at the rate of twenty or even thirty fursungs--that is, from eighty to one hundred miles--a day. Their mode of training is more like that of our pugilistic and pedestrian performers, than that adopted for race-horses. When any expedition of great length, and requiring the exertion of much speed, is in contemplation, they commence by running their horses every day for many miles together; they feed them sparingly on barley alone, and pile numuds upon them at night to sweat them, until every particle of fat has been removed, and the flesh becomes hard and tendonous. Of this they judge by the feel of the muscles, particularly on the crest, at the back of the neck, and on the haunches; and when these are sufficiently firm and hard, they say in praise of the animal, that "his flesh is marble." After this sort of training, the horse will proceed with expedition and perseverance, for almost any length of time, without either falling off in condition or knocking up, while horses that set out fat seldom survive. They are taught a quick walk, a light trot, or a sort of amble, which carries the rider on easily, at the rate of six miles an hour; but they will also go at a round canter, or gallop, for forty or fifty miles, without ever drawing bridle or showing the least symptom of fatigue. Their _yaboos_, or galloways, and large ponies are fully as remarkable, if not superior, to their horses, in their power of sustaining fatigue; they are stout, compact, spirited beasts, without the fine blood of the larger breeds, but more within the reach of the poorer classes, and consequently used in by far greater numbers than the superior and more expensive horses. "It is a common practice of the Turcomans to teach their horses to fight with their heels, and thus assist their masters in the time of action. At the will of their riders they will run at and lay hold with their teeth of whatever man or animal may be before them. This acquirement is useful in the day of battle and plunder, for catching prisoners and stray cattle, but it at the same time renders them vicious and dangerous to be handled." In addition to the flocks and herds, the Turcomans possess a breed of very large fierce dogs, to assist them in keeping their cattle. These are also necessary as watch-dogs, to protect the camp from thieves as well as more dangerous enemies to their peace; and so well-trained are those faithful creatures, that it would be impossible for either friend or enemy to approach a Turcoman camp without the inmates being forewarned in time. Two or three of these dogs may always be seen lying by the entrance of each tent; and throughout the night several others keep sentry at the approaches to the camp. Other breeds of dogs owned by them are used for hunting,--for these wild wanderers sometimes devote their hours to the chase. They have two sorts,--a smooth-skinned dog, half hound half pointer, that hunts chiefly by the scent; and a greyhound, of great swiftness, with a coat of long, silky hair, which they make use of in coursing,--hares and antelopes being their game. They have a mode of hunting--also practised by the Persians--which is peculiar. It should rather be termed hawking than hunting, as a hawk is employed for the purpose. It is a species of falcon denominated "goork," and is trained not only to dash at small game, such as partridges and bustards, but upon antelopes and even the wild ass that is found in plenty upon the plains of Turcomania. You will wonder how a bird, not larger than the common falcon, could capture such game as this but it will appear simple enough when the method has been explained. The "goork" is trained to fly at the quadruped, and fix its claws in one particular place,--that is, upon the frontlet, just between the eyes. When thus attached, the bird, instead of closing its wings and remaining at rest, keeps them constantly in motion, flapping them over the eyes of the quadruped. This it does, no doubt, to enable it to retain its perch; while the unfortunate animal, thus assailed, knows not in what direction to run, and is soon overtaken by the pursuing sportsmen, and either speared or shot with the bow and arrow. Wild boars are frequently hunted by the Turcomans; and this, like everything else with these rude centaurs, is performed on horseback. The bow and arrow is but a poor weapon when employed against the thick, tough hide of the Hyrcanian boar (for he is literally the Hyrcanian boar), and of course the matchlock would be equally ineffective. How, then, does the Turcoman sportsman manage to bag this bristly game? With all the ease in the world. It costs him only the effort of galloping his horse close up to the side of the boar after he has been brought to by the dogs, and then suddenly wheeling the steed. The latter, well-trained to the task, without further prompting, goes through the rest of the performance, which consists in administering to the boar such a slap with his iron-shod heel, as to prostrate the porcine quadruped, often killing it on the instant! Such employments and such diversions occupy only a small portion of the Turcoman's tune. He follows another calling of a far less creditable character, which unfortunately he regards as the most honourable occupation of his life. This is the calling of the robber. His pastoral pursuits are matters of only secondary consideration. He only looks to them as a means of supplying his daily wants,--his food and the more necessary portion of his clothing; but he has other wants that may be deemed luxuries. He requires to keep up his stock of horses and camels, and wishes to increase them. He needs costly gear for his horse, and costly garments for himself--and he is desirous of being possessed of fine weapons, such as spears, swords, bows, matchlocks, daggers, and pistols. His most effective weapons are the spear and sword, and these are the kinds he chiefly uses. His spear consists of a steel head with four flutes, and edges very sharp, fixed upon a slender shaft of from eight to ten feet in length. In using it he couches it under the left arm, and directs it with the right hand, either; straightforward, or to the right or left; if to the right, the butt of the shaft lies across the hinder part of the saddle; if to the left, the forepart of the spear rests on the horse's neck. The Turcomans manage their horses with the left hand, but most of these are so well broken as to obey the movement of the knee, or the impulse of the body. When close to their object, they frequently grasp the spear with both hands, to give greater effect to the thrust. The horse, spurred to the full speed of a charge, in this way, offers an attack no doubt very formidable in appearance, but perhaps less really dangerous than the other, in which success depends so greatly on skill and address. The Turcomans are all sufficiently dexterous with the sword, which is almost universally formed in the curved Persian fashion, and very sharp; they also wear a dagger at the waist-belt. Firearms are as yet little in use among them; they possess a few, taken from the travellers they have plundered, and procure a few more occasionally from the Russians by the way of Bokara. Some use bows and arrows, but they are by no means so dexterous as their ancestors were in the handling of those weapons. Mounted, then, upon his matchless steed, and armed with spear and sword, the Turcoman goes forth to practise his favourite profession,--that of plunder. He does not go alone, nor with a small number of his comrades, either. The number depends altogether on the distance or danger of the expedition; and where these are considered great, a troop of five hundred, or even a thousand, usually proceed together upon their errand. You will be inquiring to what point they direct themselves,--east, west, north, or south? That altogether depends upon who may be their enemies for the time, for along with their desire for booty, there is also mixed up something like a sentiment of hostility. In this respect, however, the Turcoman is a true Ishmaelite, and in lack of other victim he will not hesitate to plunder the people of a kindred race. Indeed, several of the Turcoman tribes have long been at war with one another; and their animosity is quite as deadly among themselves as when directed against strangers to their race. The _butt_, however, of most of the Turcoman expeditions is the northern part of Persia,--Korassan in particular. It is into this province that most of their great forays are directed, either against the peaceful citizens of the Persian towns and villages, or as often against the merchant caravans that are constantly passing between Teheran and the cities of the east,--Mushed, Balkh, Bokara, Herat, and Kelat. I have already stated that these forays are pushed far into the interior of Persia; and the fact of Persia permitting such a state of things to continue will perhaps surprise you; but you would not be surprised were you better acquainted with the condition of that kingdom. From historic associations, you believe Persia to be a powerful nation; and so it once was, both powerful and prosperous. That day is past; and at the present hour, this decaying monarchy is not only powerless to maintain order within its own borders, but is even threatened with annihilation from those very nomad races that have so often given laws to the great empires of Asia. Even at this moment, the more powerful Tartar Khans turn a longing look towards the tottering throne of Nadir Shah; and he of Khiva has more than once made a feint at invasion. But the subject is too extensive to be discussed here. It is only introduced to explain with what facility a few hundreds of Turcoman robbers can enter and harass the land. We find a parallel in many other parts of the world,--old as well as new. In the latter, the northern provinces of Mexico, and the southern countries of La Plata and Paraguay, are in just such a condition: the weak, worn-out descendants of the Spanish conquerors on one side, well representing the remnants of the race of Nadir Shah; while, on the other, the Turcoman is type enough of the Red Indian. The comparison, however, is not just to the latter. He, at least, is possessed of courage and prowess; while the Turcoman, notwithstanding his propensities for plunder, and the bloodthirsty ferocity of his character, is as arrant a coward as ever carried lance. Even the Persian can cope with him, when fairly matched; and the merchant caravans,--which are usually made up of true Turks, and other races possessing a little "pluck," are never attacked, unless when outnumbered in the ratio of three to one. For all this, the whole northern portion of the Persian kingdom is left to the mercy of these desert-robbers. The towns and villages have each their large fortress, into which the people retire whenever the plunderers make their appearance, and there dwell till the latter have ridden away,--driving off their flocks and herds to the desert fastnesses. Even the poor farmer is obliged to build a fortress in the middle of his fields, to which he may retire upon the occasion of any sudden alarm, and his labourers till the ground with their swords by their sides, and their matchlocks lying near! These field fortresses of Korassan are altogether so curious, both as to construction and purpose, that we cannot pass them without a word of description. They are usually placed in some conspicuous place, at a convenient distance from all parts of the cultivated tract. They are built of mud, and raised to a height of fifteen or twenty feet, of a circular form,--bearing some resemblance to the well-known round towers of Ireland. A small aperture is left open at the bottom, through which those seeking shelter may just squeeze their bodies, and this being barricaded inside, the defence is complete. From the top--which can be reached easily on the inside--the farmer and his labourers can use their matchlocks with effect; but they are never called upon to do so,--as the cowardly freebooter takes good care to give the mud tower a wide birth. He has no weapons by which he might assail it; and, moreover, he has no time for sieges: since an hour's delay might bring him into danger from the force that is fast approaching. His only thought is to keep on his course, and sweep off such cattle, or make prisoners of such people as he may chance to find unwarned and unarmed. Now and then he ventures upon an attack--where there is much booty to tempt him, and but a weak force to defend it. His enemies,--the hated "Kuzzilbashes," as he calls the Persians,--if defeated, have no mercy to expect from him. All who resist are killed upon the spot, and often torture is the mode of their death; but if they can be made prisoners, the desert-robber prefers letting them live, as a captive is to him a more valuable consideration than the death of an enemy. His prisoner, once secured, knows tolerably well what is to follow. The first thing the Turcoman does is to bind the victim's hands securely behind his back; he then puts a long halter around his neck, attaching the other end of it to the tail of his horse, and in this fashion the homeward march commences. If the poor pedestrian does not keep pace with the horse, he knows what he may expect,--to be dragged at intervals along the ground, and perhaps torn to pieces upon the rocks. With this horrid fate before his fancy, he makes efforts almost superhuman to keep pace with the troop of his inhuman captors: though well aware that they are leading him off into a hopeless bondage. At night, his feet are also tied; and, thrown down upon the earth, he is covered with a coarse "numud." Do not fancy that this is done to screen him from the cold: the object is very different indeed. The numud is placed over him in order that two of his captors may sleep upon its edges--one on each side of him--thus holding him down, and frustrating any chance of escape. On arriving at the robber-camp, the captive is not kept long in suspense as to his future fate. His owner--for he is now in reality a slave-- wants a new word, or a piece of silken cloth, or a camel, or some other article of luxury. That he can obtain either at Khiva or Bokara, in exchange for his slave; and therefore the new captive--or captives, as the chance may be--is marched off to the ready market. This is no isolated nor rare incident. It is one of everyday occurrence; and it is a noted fact, that of the three hundred thousand people who constitute the subjects of the Khivan Khan, nearly one half are Persian slaves obtained from the robbers of Turcomania! The political organisation of the Turcomans is of the patriarchal character. From necessity they dwell in small communities that are termed "teers," the literal signification of which is "arrows,"--though for what reason they are so styled does not appear. Perhaps it is on account of the rapidity of their movements: for, in hostile excursions, or moving from place to place, they proceed with a celerity that may be compared to arrows. Over each tribe or teer there is a chief, similar to the "sheik" of the Arab tribes,--and indeed, many of their customs offer a close analogy to those of the wandering Bedouins of Arabia and Egypt, and the Kabyles of Morocco and the Algerine provinces. The circumstances of life--almost alike to both--could not fail to produce many striking resemblances. The Turcoman tribes, as already observed, frequently go to war with each other, but they oftener unite to rob the common enemy,--the caravan or the Persian village. In these mere plundering expeditions they go in such numbers as the case may require; but when called forth to take side in anything like a national war, they can muster to the strength of many thousands; and then indeed, they become terrible,--even to the most potent sovereigns of Central Asia, by whom much diplomacy is employed to enlist them on one side or the other. It matters little to them what the cause be,--he who can promise them the largest booty in cattle or slaves is sure to have the help of their spears and swords. The Turcomans are not Pagans,--that is, they are not professedly so,-- though, for all the regard which they pay to religious observances, they might as well be termed true Infidels. They profess a religion, however, and that is Mohametanism in its worst and most bigoted form,-- the "Sunnite." The Persians, as is well-known, hold the milder Sheean doctrines; and as the votaries of the two, in most countries where both are practised, cordially hate each other, so it is between Turcomans and Persians. The former even scorn the Persian creed, calling its followers "Infidel" dogs, or _Kuzzilbashes_; and this bigoted rancour gives them a sort of plausible excuse for the hostile attitude which they hold towards them. Taking them upon the whole, the Turcomans may be looked upon as true savages,--savages dressed in _silk_ instead of in _skins_. CHAPTER TEN. THE OTTOMACS, OR DIRT-EATERS. On the banks of the Orinoco, a short distance above the point where that mighty river makes its second great sweep to the eastward, dwells a remarkable people,--a tribe of savages that, even among savages, are remarkable for many peculiar and singular customs. These are the _Ottomacs_. They have been long known,--and by the narratives of the early Spanish missionaries, rendered notorious,--on account of some curious habits; but although the missionaries have resided among them, and endeavoured to bring them within "sound of the bell," their efforts have met with a very partial and temporary success; and at this present hour, the Ottomacs are as savage in their habits; and as singular in their customs, as they were in the days of Columbus. The Ottomacs are neither a stunted nor yet a weak race of men. Their bodies are strong, and their arms and limbs stout and muscular; but they are remarkably ill-featured, with an expression of countenance habitually stern and vindictive. Their costume is easily described, or rather cannot be _described_ at all, since they have none. Both, sexes go entirely naked,--if we except a little belt of three or four inches in width, made from cotton or the bark of trees, and called the _guayuco_, which they wear around the waist,--but even this is worn from no motives of modesty. What they regard in the light of a costume is a coat of paint, and about this they are as nice and particular as a Parisian dandy. Talk about "blooming up" a faded _belle_ for the ballroom, or the time spent by an exquisite in adjusting the tie of his cravat! these are trifles when compared with the lengthy and elaborate toilette of an Ottomac lady or gentleman. The greater part of a day is often spent by them in a single dressing, with one or two helpers to assist in the operation; and this is not a _tattooing_ process, intended to last for a lifetime, but a costume certain to be disfigured, or entirely washed off, at the first exposure to a heavy shower of rain. Add to this, that the pigments which are used for the purpose are by no means easily obtained: the vegetable substances which furnish them are scarce in the Ottomac country; and it costs one of these Indians the produce of several days of his labour to purchase sufficient paint to give his whole skin a single "coat." For this reason the Ottomac paints his body only on grand occasions,-- contenting himself at ordinary times with merely staining his face and hair. When an Ottomac wishes to appear in "full dress" he first gives himself a "priming" of red. This consists of the dye called "annotto," which is obtained from the fruit pulp of the _Bixa orellana_, and which the Indians knew how to prepare previous to their intercourse with Europeans. Over this red ground is then formed a lattice-work of lines of black, with a dot in the centre of every little square or diamond. The black dye is the "caruto," also a vegetable pigment, obtained from the _Genipa Americana_. If the gentleman be rich enough to possess a little "chica" which is a beautiful lake-coloured red,--also the produce of a plant,--the _Bignoni, chica_, he will then feel all the ecstatic delight of a fashionable dandy who possesses a good wardrobe; and, with half a pound of turtle-oil rubbed into his long black tresses, he will regard himself as dressed "within an inch of his life." It is not always, however, that he can afford the _chica_,--for it is one of the costliest materials of which a South-American savage can manufacture his suit. The Ottomac takes far less trouble in the building of his house. Very often he builds none; but when he wishes to guard his body from the rays of the sun, or the periodical rains, he constructs him a slight edifice--a mere hut--out of saplings or bamboos, with a thatch of palm-leaves. His arms consist of the universal bow and arrows, which he manages with much dexterity; and he has also a harpoon which he employs in killing the manatee and the alligator. He has, besides, several other weapons, to aid him in the chase and fishing,--the latter of which forms his principal employment as well as his chief source of subsistence. The Ottomac belongs to one of those tribes of Indians termed by the Spanish missionaries _Indios andantes_, that is "wandering," or "vagabond Indians," who instead of remaining in fixed and permanent villages, roam about from place to place, as necessity or inclination dictates. Perhaps this arises from the peculiarity of the country which they inhabit: for the _Indios andantes_ do not live in the thick forests, but upon vast treeless savannas, which stretch along the Orinoco above its great bend. In these tracts the "juvia" trees (_bertholletia_ and _lecythys_), which produce the delicious "Brazil-nuts"--and other plants that supply the savage spontaneously with food, are sparsely found; and as the savannas are annually inundated for several months, the Ottomac is forced, whether he will or no, to shift his quarters and try for subsistence elsewhere. When the inundations have subsided and the waters become settled enough to permit of fishing, the Ottomac "winter" is over, and he can obtain food in plenty from the alligators, the manatees, the turtles, the _toninas_ or dolphins, and other large fish that frequent the great stream upon which he dwells. Of these the _manatee_ is the most important in the eyes of the Ottomac--as it is the largest in size, and consequently furnishes him with the greatest amount of meat. This singular semi-cetaceous creature is almost too well-known to require description. It is found in nearly all the large rivers of tropical America, where it feeds upon the grass and aquatic plants growing along their banks. It is known by various names, according to the place and people. The Spaniards call it _vaca marina_, or "sea-cow," and the Portuguese _peixe hoi_, or "fish-ox,"--both being appellations equally inappropriate, and having their origin in a slight resemblance which there exists between the animal's "countenance" and that of an ox. The _West Indian_ name is the one we though the true orthography is _manati_, not _manatee_, since the word is of Indian origin. Some writers deny this, alleging that it is a derivative from the Spanish word "mano," a hand, signifying, therefore, the fish with hands,--in allusion to the rudimentary hands which form one of its distinguishing characteristics. This is the account of the historian Oviedo, but another Spanish missionary, Father Gili, offers a more correct explanation of the name,--in fact, he proves, what is neither more nor less than the simple truth, that "manati" was the name given to this animal by the natives of Hayti and Cuba,--where a species is also found,--and the word has no reference whatever to the "hands" of the creature. The resemblance to the Spanish word which should signify "handed," is merely an accidental circumstance; and, as the acute Humboldt very justly remarks, according to the genius of the Spanish language, the word thus applied would have been written _manudo_, or _manon_, and not _manati_. The Indians have almost as many different names for this creature as there are rivers in which it is found; but its appellation in the "lingo ageral" of the great Amazon valley, is "juarua." Among the Ottomacs it is called the "apoia." It may be safely affirmed that there are several species of this amphibious animal in the rivers of tropical America; and possibly no one of them is identical with that of the West Indies. All have hitherto been regarded as belonging to the same species, and described under the scientific title of _Manatus Americanus_--a name given to the American manati, to distinguish it from the "lamantin" of Africa, and the "dugong" of the East-Indian seas. But the West-Indian species appears to have certain characteristic differences, which shows that it is a separate one, or, at all events, a variety. It is of much larger size than those of the South-American rivers generally are-- though there also a large variety is found, but much rarer than those commonly captured by the fishermen. The West-Indian manati has nails well developed upon the outer edge of its fins, or forearms; while those on the other kinds are either not seen at all, or only in a very rudimentary state. That there are different species, may be deduced from the accounts of the natives, who employ themselves in its capture: and the observations of such people are usually more trustworthy than the speculations of learned anatomists. The Amazon fishermen all agree in the belief that there are three kinds of manati in the Amazon and its numerous tributaries, that not only differ greatly in size--from seven to twenty feet long--and in weight, from four hundred to two thousand pounds,--but also in the colour of their skin, and the shape of their tails and fins. The species found in the Orinoco, and called "apoia" by the Ottomacs, is usually about twelve feet in length, and weighs from five hundred to eight hundred pounds; but now and then a much larger individual is captured, perhaps owing to greater age, or other accidental circumstance. Humboldt heard of one that weighed eight thousand pounds; and the French naturalist D'Orbigny speaks of one killed in the Bolivian waters of the Amazon that was twenty feet in length. This size is often attained by the _Manatus Americanus_ of Cuba and Hayti. The manati is shaped somewhat like a large seal, and has certain resemblances to a fish. Its body is of an oval oblong, with a large, flat, rounded tail, set horizontally, and which serves as a rudder to direct its course in the water. Just behind its shoulders appear, instead of fins, a pair of flippers, which have a certain resemblance to hands set on to the body without arms. Of these it avails itself, when creeping out against the bank, and the female also uses them in carrying her young. The mammae (for it must be remembered that this creature is a mammiferous animal) are placed just below and behind the flippers. The muzzle is blunt, with thick lips,--the upper projecting several inches beyond the lower, and covered with a delicate epidermis: showing evidently that it avails itself of this prominence--which possesses a keen sense of touch--just as the elephant of his proboscis. The lips are covered with bristles, or beard, which impart a kind of human-like expression to the animal's countenance,--a circumstance more observable in the "dugongs" of the Oriental waters. "Woman fish," too, these have been called, and no doubt such creatures, along with the seals and walruses, have given rise to many a story of sirens and mermaids. The "cow-face," however, from which the manati obtains its Spanish and Portuguese epithets, is the most characteristic; and in its food we find a still greater analogy to the bovine quadruped with which it is brought in comparison. Beyond this the resemblance ceases. The body is that of a seal; but instead of being covered with hair, as the cetaceous animal, the manati has a smooth skin that resembles india-rubber more than anything else. A few short hairs are set here and there, but they are scarce observable. The colour of the manati is that of lead, with a few mottlings of a pinkish-white hue upon the belly; but in this respect there is no uniformity. Some are seen with the whole under-parts of a uniform cream colour. The lungs of this animal present a peculiarity worthy of being noted. They are very voluminous,--being sometimes three feet in length, and of such a porous and elastic nature as to be capable of immense extension. When blown out, they present the appearance of great swimming bladders; and it is by means of this capacity for containing air that the manati is enabled to remain so long under water,--though, like the true _cetaceae_, it requires to come at intervals to the surface to obtain breath. The flesh of the manati is eaten by all the tribes of Indians who can procure it,--though by some it is more highly esteemed than by others. It was once much relished in the colonial settlements of Guiana and the West Indies, and formed a considerable article of commerce; but in these quarters manatis have grown scarce,--from the incessant persecution of the fishermen. The flesh has been deemed unwholesome by some, and apt to produce fevers; but this is not the general opinion. It has a greater resemblance to pork than beef,--though it be the flesh of a cow,--and is very savoury when fresh, though neither is it bad eating when salted or dried in the sun. In this way it will keep for several months; and it has always been a stock article with the monks of the South-American missions,--who, in spite of its mammiferous character, find it convenient, during the days of Lent, to regard it as a fish! The skin of the manati is of exceeding thickness,--on the back an inch and a half at least, though it becomes thinner as it approaches the under-parts of the body. It is cut into slips which serve various purposes, as for shields, cordage, and whips. "These whips of manati leather," Bays Humboldt, "are a cruel instrument of punishment for the unhappy slaves, and even for the Indians of the missions, though, according to the laws, the latter ought to be treated as freemen." Another valuable commodity obtained from this animal is oil, known in the missions as manati-butter (_manteca de manati_). This is produced by the layer of pure fat, of an inch and a half in thickness, which, lying immediately under the skin, envelops the whole body of the animal. The oil is used for lamps in the mission churches; but among the Indians themselves it is also employed in the _cuisine_,--as it has not that fetid smell peculiar to the oil of whales and salt-water cetaceae. The food of the manati is grass exclusively, which it finds on the banks of the lakes and rivers it frequents. Of this it will eat an enormous quantity; and its usual time of browsing is at night,--though this habit may have arisen from its observance of the fact, that night is the safest time to approach the shore. In those places, where is has been left undisturbed, it may be often seen browsing by day. I have been thus particular in my account of this animal, because it is more nearly connected with the history of Ottomac habits than perhaps that of any other tribe of South-American Indians,--the Guamos alone excepted, who may themselves be regarded as merely a branch of the Ottomac family. Though, as already remarked, all the tribes who dwell upon manati rivers pursue this creature and feed upon its flesh, yet in no other part of South America is this species of fishery so extensively or so dexterously carried on as among the Ottomacs and Guamos,--the reason being, that, amidst the great grassy savannas which characterise the Ottomac country, there are numerous streams and lagoons that are the favourite haunts of this herbivorous animal. In one river in particular, so great a number are found that it has been distinguished by the appellation of the _Rio de Manatis_ (river of manatis). The manati, when undisturbed, is gregarious in its habits, going in troops (or "herds," if we preserve the analogy) of greater or less numbers, and keeping the young "calves" in the centre, which the mothers guard with the tenderest affection. So attached are the parents to their young, that if the calf be taken, the mother can be easily approached; and the devotion is reciprocated on the filial side; since in cases where the mother has been captured and dragged ashore, the young one has often been known to follow the lifeless body up to the very bank! As the manati plays such an important part in the domestic economy of the Ottomacs, of course the capturing of this animal is carried on upon the grandest scale among these people, and, like the "harvest of turtle-eggs," hereafter to be described, the manati fishery has its particular _season_. Some writers have erroneously stated this season as being the period of inundation, and when the water is at its maximum height. This is quite contrary to the truth; since that period, both on the Amazon and Orinoco rivers, is just the time when all kinds of fishing is difficult and precarious. Then is the true winter,--the "blue months" of the South-American river Indians; and it is then, as will presently be seen, that the Ottomac comes nearest the point of starvation,--which he approaches every year of his life. There are manati and other kinds of fish taken at all times of the year; but the true season of the manati-fishing is when the waters of the great flood have considerably subsided, and are still continuing to diminish rapidly. When the inundation is at its height, the manati passes out of the channel current of the great river, and in search of grass it finds its way into the lakes and surrounding marshes, remaining there to browse along their banks. When the flood is rapidly passing away from it, it begins to find itself a "little out of its element," and just then is the time when it is most easily captured. Sometimes the Indians assemble in a body with their canoes, forming a large fleet; and, proceeding to the best haunts of the "cow-fish," carry on the fishery in a wholesale manner. The monks of the missions also head the _tame_ tribes on these expeditions,--as they do when collecting the eggs of the turtle,--and a regular systematic course is carried on under the eye of discipline and authority. A camp is formed at some convenient place on the shore. Scaffolds are erected for sun-drying the flesh and skins; and vessels and other utensils brought upon the ground to render the fat into oil. The manatis that have been captured are all brought in the canoes to this central point, and delivered up to be "_flensed_," cured, and cooked. There is the usual assemblage of small traders from Angostura and other ports on the lower Orinoco, who come to barter their Indian trinkets for the _manteca de manati_ in the same manner as it will presently be seen they trade for the _manteca de tortugas_. I need not add that this is a season of joy and festivity, like the wine-gatherings and harvest-homes of the European peasantry. The mode of capturing the manati is very similar to that employed by the Esquimaux in taking the seal, and which has been elsewhere described. There is not much danger in the fishery, for no creature could be more harmless and inoffensive than this. It makes not the slightest attempt either at defence or retaliation,--though the accident sometimes occurs of a canoe being swamped or drawn under water,--but this is nothing to the Ottomac Indian, who is almost as amphibious as the manati itself. At the proper hour the fisherman starts off in search of the manati. His fishing-boat is a canoe hollowed from a single trunk, of that kind usually styled a "dugout." On perceiving the cow-fish resting upon the surface of the water, the Ottomac paddles towards it, observing the greatest caution; for although the organs of sight and hearing in this animal are, externally, but very little developed, it both hears and sees well; and the slightest suspicious noise would be a signal for it to dive under, and of course escape. When near enough to insure a good aim, the Ottomac hurls his harpoon into the animal's body; which, after piercing the thick hide, sticks fast. To this harpoon a cord is attached, with a float, and the float remaining above water indicates the direction in which the wounded animal now endeavours to get off. When it is tired of struggling, the Indian regains the cord; and taking it in, hand over hand, draws up his canoe to the side of the fish. If it be still too lively, he repeatedly strikes it with a spear; but he does not aim to kill it outright until he has got it "aboard." Once there, he ends the creature's existence by driving a wooden plug into its nostrils, which in a moment deprives it of life. The Ottomac now prepares himself to transport the carcass to his home; or, if fishing in company, to the common rendezvous. Perhaps he has some distance to take it, and against a current; and he finds it inconvenient to tow such a heavy and cumbrous article. To remedy this inconvenience, he adopts the expedient already mentioned, of placing the carcass in his canoe. But how does he get it there? How can a single Indian of ordinary strength raise a weight of a thousand pounds out of the water, and lift it over the gunwale of his unsteady craft? It is in this that he exhibits great cunning and address: for instead of raising the carcass above the canoe, he sinks the canoe below the carcass, by first filling the vessel nearly full of water; and then, after he has got his freight aboard, he bales out the water with his gourd-shell. He at length succeeds in adjusting his load, and then paddles homeward with his prize. On arriving at his village,--if it be to the village he takes it,--he is assisted in transporting the load by others of his tribe; but he does not carry it to his own house,--for the Ottomacs are true socialists, and the produce both of the chase and the fishery is the common property of all. The chief of the village, seated in front of his hut, receives all that is brought home, and distributes it out to the various heads of families,--giving to each in proportion to the number of mouths that are to be fed. The manati is flayed,--its thick hide, as already observed, serving for many useful purposes; the strata of fat, or "blubber," which lies beneath is removed, to be converted into oil; and finally, the flesh, which is esteemed equal to pork, both in delicacy and flavour, is cut into thin slices, either to be broiled and eaten at the time, or to be preserved for a future occasion, not by salt, of which the Ottomac is entirely ignorant, but by drying in the sun and smoking over a slow fire. Fish and the flesh of the alligator are similarly "cured;" and when the process is carefully done, both will keep for months. The alligator is captured in various ways: sometimes by a baited hook with a strong cord attached,--sometimes he is killed by a stab of the harpoon spear, and not unfrequently is he taken by a noose slipped over his paw, the Ottomac diving fearlessly under him and adjusting the snare. Some of the Indian tribes will not eat the musky flesh of the alligator; but the Ottomacs are not thus particular. Indeed, these people refuse scarce any article of food, however nasty or disagreeable; and it is a saying among their neighbours--the Indians of other tribes--that "nothing is too loathsome for the stomach of an Ottomac." Perhaps the saying will be considered as perfectly true when we come to describe a species of food which these people eat, and which, for a long time, has rendered them famous--or rather infamous--under the appellation of "dirt-eaters." Of them it may literally be said that they "eat dirt," for such, in reality, is one of their customs. This singular practice is chiefly resorted to during those months in the year when the rivers swell to their greatest height, and continue full. At this time all fishing ceases, and the Ottomac finds it difficult to obtain a sufficiency of food. To make up for the deficiency, he fills his stomach with a kind of unctuous clay, which he has already stored up for the emergency, and of which he eats about a pound per diem! It does not constitute his sole diet, but often for several days together it is the only food which passes his lips! There is nothing nourishing in it,--that has been proved by analysis. It merely _fills_ the belly,-- producing a satiety, or, at least, giving some sort of relief from the pangs of hunger. Nor has it been observed that the Ottomac grows thin or unhealthy on this unnatural viand: on the contrary, he is one of the most robust and healthy of American Indians. The earth which the Ottomac eats goes by the name of _poya_. He does not eat clay of every kind: only a peculiar sort which he finds upon the banks of streams. It is soft and smooth to the touch, and unctuous, like putty. In its natural state it is of a yellowish-grey colour; but, when hardened before the fire, it assumes a tinge of red, owing to the oxide of iron which is in it. It was for a long time believed that the Ottomac mixed this clay with cassava and turtle-oil, or some other sort of nutritive substance. Even Father Gumilla--who was credulous enough to believe almost anything-- could not "swallow" the story of the clay in its natural state, but believed that it was prepared with some combination of farinha or fat. This, however, is not the case. It is a pure earth, containing (according to the analysis of Vauquelin) silex and alumina, with three or four per cent of lime! This clay the Ottomac stores up, forming it into balls of several inches in diameter; which; being slightly hardened before the fire, he builds into little pyramids, just as cannon-balls are piled in an arsenal or fortress. When the Ottomac wishes to eat of the _poya_, he softens one of the balls by wetting it; and then, scraping off as much as he may require for his meal, returns the _poya_ to its place on the pyramid. The dirt-eating does not entirely end with the falling of the waters. The practice has begot a craving for it; and the Ottomac is not contented without a little _poya_, even when more nutritious food may be obtained in abundance. This habit of eating earth is not exclusively Ottomac. Other kindred tribes indulge in it, though not to so great an extent; and we find the same unnatural practice among the savages of New Caledonia and the Indian archipelago. It is also common on the west coast of Africa. Humboldt believed it to be exclusively a tropical habit. In this the great philosopher was in error, since it is known to be practised by some tribes of northern Indians on the frigid banks of the Mackenzie River. When the floods subside, as already stated, the Ottomac lives better. Then he can obtain both fish and turtles in abundance. The former he captures, both with hooks and nets, or shoots with his arrows, when they rise near the surface. The turtles of the Ottomac rivers are of two kinds the _arau_ and _terecay_. The former is the one most sought after, as being by far the largest. It is nearly a yard across the back, and weighs from fifty to a hundred pounds. It is a shy creature, and would be difficult to capture, were it not for a habit it has of raising its head above the surface of the water, and thus exposing the soft part of its throat to the Indian's arrow. Even then an arrow might fail to kill it; but the Ottomac takes care to have the point well coated with _curare_ poison, which in a few seconds does its work, and secures the death of the victim. The _terecay_ is taken in a different and still more ingenious manner. This species, floating along the surface, or even when lying still, presents no mark at which a shaft can be aimed with the slightest chance of success. The sharpest arrow would glance off its flat shelly back as from a surface of steel. In order, therefore, to reach the vitals of his victim, the Indian adopts an expedient, in which he exhibits a dexterity and skill that are truly remarkable. He aims his shaft, not at the turtle, but up into the air, describing by its course a parabolic curve, and so calculating its velocity and direction that it will drop perpendicularly, point foremost, upon the back of the unsuspecting swimmer, and pierce through the shell right into the vital veins of its body! It is rare that an Indian will fail in hitting such a mark; and, both on the Orinoco and Amazon, thousands of turtles are obtained in this manner. The great season of Ottomac festivity and rejoicing, however, is that of the _cosecha de tortugas_, or "turtle-crop." As has been already observed, in relation to the manati fishery, it is to him what the harvest-home is to the nations of northern Europe, or the wine-gathering to those of the south; for this is more truly the character of the _cosecha_. It is then that he is enabled, not only to procure a supply of turtle-oil with which to lubricate his hair and skin, but he obtains enough of this delicious grease wherewith to fry his dried slices of manati and a surplus for sale to the turtle-traders from the Lower Orinoco. In this petty commerce no coin is required; harpoon spears, and arrow-heads of iron, rude knives, and hatchets; but, above all, a few cakes of _annotto_, _chica_, and _caruto_, are bartered in exchange for the turtle-oil. The thick hide of the manati,--for making slave-whips,--the spotted skin of the jaguar, and some other pelts which the chase produces, are also items of his export trade. The pigments above mentioned have already been procured by the trader, as the _export_ articles of commerce of some other tribe. The turtle-oil is the product of the eggs of the larger species,--the _arau_,--known simply by the name _tortuga_, or turtle. The eggs of the _terecay_ would serve equally as well; but, from a difference in the habit of this animal, its eggs cannot be obtained in sufficient quantity for oil-making. There is no such thing as a grand "cosecha," or crop of them--for the creature is not gregarious, like its congener, but each female makes her nest apart from the others, in some solitary place, and there brings forth her young brood. Not but that the nests of the _terecay_ are also found and despoiled of their eggs,--but this only occurs at intervals; and as the contents of a single nest would not be sufficient for a "churning," no "butter" can be made of them. They are, therefore, gathered to be used only as _eggs_, and not as _butter_. The _arau_, on the other hand, although not gregarious under ordinary circumstances, becomes pre-eminently so during the "laying season." Then all the turtles in the Orinoco and its tributaries collect into three or four vast gangs--numbering in all over a million of individuals--and proceed to certain points of rendezvous which they have been in the habit of visiting from time immemorial. These common breeding-places are situated between the cataracts of the river and the great bend, where it meets the Apure; and are simply broad beaches of sand, rising with a gentle slope from the edge of the water, and extending for miles along the bank. There are some small rookeries on tributary streams, but the three most noted are upon the shores of the main river, between the points already indicated. That frequented by the Ottomacs is upon an island, at the mouth of the Uruana River, upon which these people principally dwell. The laying season of the _arau_ turtle varies in the different rivers of tropical America,--occurring in the Amazon and its tributaries at a different period from that of the Orinoco. It is regulated by the rise, or rather the fall of the inundations; and takes place when the waters, at their lowest stage, have laid bare the low sand-banks upon the shores. This occurs (in the Orinoco) in March, and early in this month the great assemblages are complete. For weeks before, the turtles are seen, in all parts of the river near the intended breeding-places, swimming about on the surface, or basking along the banks. As the sun grows stronger, the desire of depositing their eggs increases,--as though the heat had something to do with their fecundation. For some time before the final action, the creatures may be seen ranged in a long line in front of the breeding-place, with their heads and necks held high above the water; as if contemplating their intended nursery, and calculating the dangers to which they may be exposed. It is not without reason that they may dwell upon these. Along the beach stalks the lordly jaguar, waiting to make a meal of the first that may set his foot on terra firma, or to fill his stomach with the delicious "new-laid" eggs. The ugly alligator, too, is equally _friand_ of a gigantic omelette; and not less so the "garzas" (white cranes), and the "zamuros" (black vultures), who hover in hundreds in the air. Here and there, too, may be observed an Indian sentinel, keeping as much as possible out of sight of the turtles themselves, but endeavouring to drive off all other enemies whose presence may give them fear. Should a canoe or boat appear upon the river, it is warned by these sentinels to keep well off from the phalanx of the turtles,--lest these should be disturbed or alarmed,--for the Indian well knows that if anything should occur to produce a panic among the araus, his _cosecha_ would be very much shortened thereby. When at length the turtles have had sun enough to warm them to the work, they crawl out upon the dry sand-beach, and the laying commences. It is at night that the operation is carried on: for then their numerous enemies--especially the vultures--are less active. Each turtle scoops out a hole, of nearly a yard in diameter and depth; and having therein deposited from fifty to one hundred eggs, it covers them up with the sand, smoothing the surface, and treading it firmly down. Sometimes the individuals are so crowded as to lay in one another's nests, breaking many of the eggs, and causing an inextricable confusion; while the creaking noise of their shells rubbing against each other may be heard afar off, like the rushing of a cataract. Sometimes a number that have arrived late, or have been slow at their work, continue engaged in it till after daybreak, and even after the Indians have come upon the ground--whose presence they no longer regard. Impelled by the instinct of philo-progenitiveness, these "mad turtles," as the Indians call them, appear utterly regardless of danger, and make no effort to escape from it; but are turned over on their backs, or killed upon the spot without difficulty. The beach being now deserted by the turtles, the egg-gatherers proceed to their work. As there are usually several tribes, who claim a share in the _cosecha_, the ground is measured out, and partitioned among them. The regularity with which the nests are placed, and the number of eggs in each being pretty nearly the same, an average estimate of the quantity under a given surface is easily made. By means of a pointed stick thrust into the sand, the outline of the deposit is ascertained-- usually running along the beach in a strip of about thirty yards in breadth. When the allotments are determined, the work of oil-making begins,--each tribe working by itself, and upon the social system. The covering of sand is removed, and the eggs placed in baskets, which are then emptied into large wooden troughs, as a common receptacle. The canoes, drawn up on the sand, are frequently made to do duty as troughs. When a sufficient number of eggs have been thrown in, they are broken and pounded together, and whipped about, as if intended for a gigantic omelette. Water is added; and then the mixture is put into large caldrons, and boiled until the oil comes to the top; after which it is carefully skimmed off and poured into earthen jars ("botigas,") provided by the traders. It takes about two weeks to complete the operations, during which time many curious scenes occur. The sand swarms with young turtles about as big as a dollar, which have been prematurely hatched; and have contrived to crawl out of the shell. These are chased in all directions, and captured by the little naked Ottomacs, who devour them "body, bones, and all," with as much gusto as if they were gooseberries. The cranes and vultures, and young alligators too, take a part in this by-play--for the offspring of the poor arau has no end of enemies. When the oil is all boiled and bottled, the trader displays his tempting wares, and makes the best market he can; and the savage returns to his palm-hut village,--taking with him the articles of exchange and a few baskets of eggs, which he has reserved for his own eating; and so ends the _cosecha de tortugas_. It is in this season that the Ottomac indulges most in good living, and eats the smallest quantity of dirt. The waters afford him abundance of fish and turtle-flesh, beef from the sea-cow, and steaks from the tail of the alligator. He has his turtle and manati-butter, in which to fry all these dainties, and also to lubricate his hair and skin. He can dress, too, "within an inch of his life," having obtained for his oil a fresh supply of the precious pigments. He indulges, moreover, in fits of intoxication, caused by a beverage made from maize or manioc root; but oftener produced by a species of snuff which he inhales into his nostrils. This is the _niopo_, manufactured from the leaves of a _mimosa_, and mixed with a kind of lime, which last is obtained by burning a shell of the genus _helix_, that is found in the waters of the Orinoco. The effect of the _niopo_ resembles that produced by chewing _betel_, tobacco, opium, or the narcotic _coca_ of Peru. When freely taken, a species of intoxication or rather mania is produced; but this snuff and its effects are more minutely described elsewhere. It is here introduced because, in the case of the Ottomac, the drug often produces most baneful consequences. During the continuance of his intoxication the Ottomac is quarrelsome and disorderly. He picks a hole in the coat of his neighbour; but if there chance to be any "old sore" between him and a rival, the vindictive feeling is sure to exhibit itself on these occasions; and not unfrequently ends in an encounter, causing the death of one or both of the combatants. These duels are not fought either with swords or pistols, knives, clubs, nor any similar weapons. The destruction of the victim is brought about in a very different manner; and is the result of a very slight scratch which he has received during the fight from the _nail_ of his antagonist. That a wound of so trifling a nature should prove mortal would be something _very_ mysterious, did we not know that the nail which inflicted that scratch has been already enfiltrated with _curare_,--one of the deadliest of vegetable poisons, which the Ottomac understands how to prepare in its most potent and virulent form. Should it ever be your unfortunate fate therefore, to get into a "scrimmage" with an Ottomac Indian, you must remember to keep clear of his "claws!" CHAPTER ELEVEN. THE COMANCHES, OR PRAIRIE INDIANS. Young reader, I need scarce tell you that the noblest of animals--the horse--is not indigenous to America. You already know that when Columbus discovered the New World, no animal of the horse kind was found there; and yet the geologist has proved incontestably that at one time horses existed in the New World,--at a period too, geologically speaking, not very remote. The fossilised bones examined by one of the most accomplished of modern travellers--Dr Darwin--establish this truth beyond a doubt. The horse that at present inhabits America, though not indigenous, has proved a flourishing exotic. Not only in a domestic state has he increased in numbers, but he has in many places escaped from the control of man, and now runs wild upon the great plains both of North and South America. Although you may find in America almost every "breed" of horses known in Europe, yet the great majority belong to two very distinct kinds. The first of these is the large English horse, in his different varieties, imported by the Anglo-Americans, and existing almost exclusively in the woodland territory of the United States. The second kind is the Andalusian-Arab,--the horse of the Spanish conquerors,--a much smaller breed than the English-Arabian, but quite equal to him in mettle and beauty of form. It is the Andalusian horse that is found throughout all Spanish America,--it is he that has multiplied to such a wonderful extent,--it is he that has "run wild." That the horse in his normal state is a dweller upon open plains, is proved by his habits in America,--for in no part where the forest predominates is he found wild,--only upon the prairies of the north, and the llanos and pampas of the south, where a timbered tract forms the exception. He must have found these great steppes congenial to his natural disposition,--since, only a very short time after the arrival of the Spaniards in the New World, we find the horse a runaway from civilisation,--not only existing in a wild state upon the prairies, but in possession of many of the Indian tribes. It would be an interesting inquiry to trace the change of habits which the possession of the horse must have occasioned among these Arabs of the Western world. However hostile they may have been to his European rider, they must have welcomed the horse as a friend. No doubt they admired the bold, free spirit of the noble animal so analogous to their own nature. He and they soon became inseparable companions; and have continued so from that time to the present hour. Certain it is that the prairie, or "horse Indians" of the present day, are in many respects essentially different from the staid and stoical sons of the forest so often depicted in romances; and almost equally certain is it, that the possession of the horse has contributed much to this dissimilarity. It could not be otherwise. With the horse new habits were introduced,--new manners and customs,--new modes of thought and action. Not only the chase, but war itself, became a changed game,--to be played in an entirely different manner. We shall not go back to inquire what these Indians _were_ when afoot. It is our purpose only to describe what they _are_ now that they are on horseback. Literally, may we say _on horseback_; for, unless at this present writing they are asleep, we may safely take it for granted they are upon the backs of their horses,--young and old of them, rich and poor,--for there is none of them so poor as not to be the master of a "mustang" steed. In "Prairie-land" every tribe of Indians is in possession of the horse. On the north the Crees, Crows, and Blackfeet, the Sioux, Cheyennes, and Arapahoes; on the plains of the Platte, the Kansas, and Osage, we find the Pawnees, the Kansas, and Osages,--all horse Indians. West of the great mountain range, the Apache is mounted: so likewise the Utah, the Navajo, and the Snake, or Shoshonee,--the latter rather sparingly. Other tribes, to a greater or less degree, possess this valuable animal; but the true type of the "horse Indian" is to be found in the Comanche, the lord of that wide domain that extends from the Arkansas to the Rio Grande. He it is who gives trouble to the frontier colonists of Texas, and equally harasses the Spanish settlements of New Mexico; he it is who carries his forays almost into the heart of New Spain,--even to the gates of the populous Durango. Regarding the Comanche, then, as the type of the horse Indians, we shall speak more particularly of him. Allowing for some slight difference in the character of his climate and country, his habits and customs will be found not very dissimilar to those of the other tribes who make the prairie their home. To say that the Comanche is the finest horseman in the world would be to state what is not the fact. He is not more excellent in this accomplishment than his neighbour and bitter foeman, the Pawnee,--no better than the "vaquero" of California, the "ranchero" of Mexico, the "llanero" of Venezuela, the "gaucho" of Buenos Ayres, and the horse Indians of the "Gran Chaco" of Paraguay, of the Pampas, and Patagonia. He is _equal_, however, to any of these, and that is saying enough,--in a word, that he takes rank among the finest horsemen in the world. The Comanche is on horseback almost from the hour of infancy,-- transferred, as it were, from his mother's arms to the withers of a mustang. When able to walk, he is scarce allowed to practise this natural mode of progression, but performs all his movements on the back of a horse. A Comanche would no more think of making a journey afoot-- even if it were only to the distance of a few hundred yards--than he would of crawling upon his hands and knees. The horse, ready saddled and bridled, stands ever near,--it differs little whether there is either saddle or bridle,--and flinging himself on the animal's back, or his neck, or his croup, or hanging suspended along his side, the Indian guides him to the destined spot, usually at a rapid gallop. It is of no consequence to the rider how fast the horse may be going: it will not hinder him from mounting, or dismounting at will. At any time, by clutching the mane, he can spring upon the horse's shoulders,--just as may be often seen in the arena of the circus. The horse Indian is a true type of the _nomadic_ races,--a dweller in tents, which his four-footed associate enables him to transport from place to place with the utmost facility. Some of the tribes, however, and even some of the Comanches, have fixed residences, or "villages," where at a certain season of the year they--or rather their women-- cultivate the maize, the pumpkin, the melon, the calabash, and a few other species of plants,--all being vegetable products indigenous to their country. No doubt, before the arrival of Europeans, this cultivation was carried on more extensively than at present; but the possession of the horse has enabled the prairie tribes to dispense with a calling which they cordially contemn: the calling of the husbandman. These misguided savages, one and all, regard agricultural pursuits as unworthy of men; and wherever necessity compels them to practise them, the work falls to the lot of the women and slaves,--for be it known that the Comanche is a slave-owner; and holds in bondage not only Indians of other tribes, but also a large number of mestizoes and whites of the Spanish race, captured during many a sanguinary raid into the settlements of Mexico! It would be easy to show that it is this false pride of being hunters and warriors, with its associated aversion for an agricultural life, that has thinned the numbers of the Indian race--far more than any persecution they have endured at the hands of the white man. This it is that starves them, that makes unendurable neighbours of them, and has rendered it necessary in some instances to "civilise them off the face of the earth." But they are not yet all civilised from off the face of the earth; nor is it their destiny to disappear so readily as short-seeing prophets have declared. Their idle habits and internecine wars have done much to thin their numbers,--far more than the white man's hostility,--but wherever the white man has stepped in and put a stop to their tribal contentions,--wherever he has succeeded in conquering their aversion to industrial pursuits,--the Indian is found not only to hold his ground, but to increase rapidly in numbers. This is the case with many tribes,--Greeks, Choctaws, and Cherokees,--so that I can promise you, young reader, that by the time you get to be an old man, there will be as many Indians in the world as upon that day when Columbus first set his foot upon "Cat" Island. You will be inquiring how the horse could render the prairie Indian more independent of agriculture? The answer is simple. With this valuable auxiliary a new mode of subsistence was placed within his reach. An article of food, which he had hitherto been able to obtain only in a limited quantity, was now procurable in abundance,--the flesh of the buffalo. The prairies of North America have their own peculiarities. They are not stocked with large droves of ruminant animals, as the plains of Southern Africa,--where the simplest savage may easily obtain a dinner of flesh-meat. A few species of deer, thinly distributed,--all swift, shy animals,--the prong-horn antelope, still swifter and shyer,--and the "big-horn," shyest of all,--were the only ruminants of Prairie-land, with the exception of the great bison, or buffalo, as he is generally called. But even this last was not so easily captured in those days. The bison, though not a swift runner, is yet more than a match for the biped man; and though the Indian might steal upon the great drove, and succeed in bringing down a few with his arrows, it was not always a sure game. Moreover, afoot, the hunter could not follow the buffalo in its grand migrations,--often extending for hundreds of miles across plains, rivers, and ravines. Once mounted, the circumstances became changed. The Indian hunter could not only overtake the buffalo, but ride round him at will, and pursue him, if need be, to the most distant parts of Prairie-land. The result, therefore, of the introduction of the horse was a plentiful supply of buffalo-meat, or, when that failed, the flesh of the horse himself,--upon which two articles of diet the prairie Indian has almost exclusively subsisted ever since. The Comanche has several modes of hunting the buffalo. If alone, and he wishes to make a grand _coup_, he will leave his horse at a distance,-- the animal being trained to remain where his master has left him. The hunter then approaches the herd with great caution, keeping to leeward,--lest he might be "winded" by the old sentinel bulls who keep watch. Should there be no cover to shelter the approach of the hunter, the result would be that the bulls would discover him; and, giving out their bellow of alarm, cause the others to scamper off. To guard against this, the Indian has already prepared himself by adopting a _ruse_,--which consists in disguising himself in the skin of a buffalo, horns and all complete, and approaching the herd, as if he were some stray individual that had been left behind, and was just on the way to join its fellows. Even the motions of the buffalo, when browsing, are closely imitated by the red hunter; and, unless the wind be in favour of his being scented by the bulls, this device will insure the success of a shot. Sometimes the skin of the large whitish-grey wolf is used in this masquerade with equal success. This may appear singular, since the animal itself is one of the deadliest enemies of the buffalo: a large pack of them hanging on the skirts of every herd, and patiently waiting for an opportunity to attack it. But as this attack is only directed against the younger calves,--or some disabled or decrepit individual who may lag behind,--the strong and healthy ones have no fear of the wolves, and permit them to squat upon the prairie within a few feet of where they are browsing! Indeed, they could not hinder them, even if they wished: as the long-legged wolf in a few springs can easily get out of the way of the more clumsy ruminant; and, therefore, does not dread the lowering frontlet of the most shaggy and ill-tempered bull in the herd. Of course the hunter, in the guise of a wolf, obtains the like privilege of close quarters; and, when he has arrived at the proper distance for his purpose, he prepares himself for the work of destruction. The bow is the weapon he uses,--though the rifle is now a common weapon in the hands of many of the horse Indians. But the bow is preferred for the species of "still hunting" here described. The first crack of a rifle would scatter the gang, leaving the hunter perhaps only an empty gun for his pains; while an arrow at quarters is equally as deadly in its effect; and, being a _silent_ weapon, no alarm is given to any of the buffaloes, except that one which has felt the deadly shaft passing through its vitals. Often the animal thus shot--even when the wound is a mortal one--does not immediately fall; but sinks gradually to the earth, as if lying down for a rest. Sometimes it gets only to its knees, and dies in this attitude; at other times it remains a long while upon its legs, spreading its feet widely apart, as if to prop itself up, and then rocking from side to side like a ship in a ground-swell, till at last, weakened by loss of blood, it yields its body to the earth. Sometimes the struggles of a wounded individual cause the herd to "stampede," and then the hunter has to content himself with what he may already have shot; but not unfrequently the unsuspicious gang keeps the ground till the Indian has emptied his quiver. Nay, longer than that: for it often occurs that the disguised buffalo or wolf (as the case may be) approaches the bodies of those that have fallen, recovers some of his arrows, and uses them a second time with like deadly effect! For this purpose it is his practice, if the aim and distance favour him, to send his shaft clear through the body of the bison, in order that the barb may not hinder it from being extracted on the other side! This feat is by no means of uncommon occurrence among the buffalo-hunters of the prairies. Of course, a grand wholesale slaughter of the kind just described is not an everyday matter; and can only be accomplished when the buffaloes are in a state of comparative rest, or browsing slowly. More generally they detect the dangerous counterfeit in time to save their skins; or else keep moving too rapidly for the hunter to follow them on foot. His only resource, then, is to ride rapidly up on horseback, fire his arrows without dismounting, or strike the victim with his long lance while galloping side by side with it. If in this way he can obtain two or three fat cows, before his horse becomes _blown_, or the herd scatters beyond his reach, he considers that he has had good success. But in this kind of chase the hunter is rarely alone: the whole tribe takes part in it; and, mounted on their well-trained mustangs, often pursue the buffalo gangs for, an hour or more, before the latter can get off and hide themselves in the distance, or behind the swells of the prairie. The clouds of dust raised in a _melee_ of this kind often afford the buffalo a chance of escaping,--especially when they are running _with_ the wind. A "buffalo surround" is effected by a large party of hunters riding to a great distance; deploying themselves into a circle around the herd; and then galloping inward with loud yells. The buffaloes, thus attacked on all sides, become frightened and confused, and are easily driven into a close-packed mass, around the edges of which the mounted hunters wheel and deliver their arrows, or strike those that try to escape, with their long spears. Sometimes the infuriated bulls rush upon the horses, and gore them to death; and the hunters, thus dismounted, often run a narrow risk of meeting with the same fate,--more than a risk, for not unfrequently they are killed outright. Often are they obliged to leap up on the croup of a companion's horse, to get out of the way of danger; and many instances are recorded where a horseman, by the stumbling of his horse, has been pitched right into the thick of the herd, and has made his escape by mounting on the backs of the bulls themselves, and leaping from one to another until he has reached clear ground again. The buffalo is never captured in a "pound," as large mammalia are in many countries. He is too powerful a creature to be imprisoned by anything but the strongest stockade fence; and for this the prairie country does not afford materials. A contrivance, however, of a somewhat similar character is occasionally resorted to by various tribes of Indians. When it is known that the buffaloes have become habituated to range in any part of the country, where the plain is intersected by deep ravines,--_canons_, or _barrancas_, as they are called,--then a grand _battue_ is got up by driving the animals pellmell over the precipitous bluffs, which universally form the sides of these singular ravines. To guide the herd to the point where it is intended they should take the fatal leap, a singular contrivance is resorted to. This consists in placing two rows of objects--which appear to the buffalo to be human beings--in such a manner that one end of each row abuts upon the edge of the precipice, not very distant from the other, while the lines extend far out into the plain, until they have diverged into a wide and extensive funnel. It is simply the contrivance used for guiding animals into a pound; but, instead of a pair of close log fences, the objects forming these rows stand at a considerable distance apart; and, as already stated, appear to the not very discriminating eye of the buffalo to be human beings. They are in reality designed to resemble the human form in a rude fashion; and the material out of which they are constructed is neither more nor less than the dung of the buffaloes themselves,--the _bois de vache_, as it is called, by the Canadian trappers, who often warm their shins, and roast their buffalo ribs over a fire of this same material. The decoy being thus set, the mounted hunters next make a wide sweep around the prairie,--including in their deployment such gangs of buffaloes as may be browsing between their line and the mouth of the funnel. At first the buffaloes are merely guided forward, or driven slowly and with caution,--as boys in snow-time often drive larks toward their snares. When the animals, however, have entered between the converging lines of mock men, a rush, accompanied by hideous yells, is made upon them from behind: the result of which is, that they are impelled forward in a headlong course towards the precipice. The buffalo is, at best, but a half-blind creature. Through the long, shaggy locks hanging over his frontlet he sees objects in a dubious light, or not at all. He depends more on his scent than his sight; but though he may scent a living enemy, the keenness of his organ does not warn him of the yawning chasm that opens before him,--not till it is too late to retire: for although he may perceive the fearful leap before taking it, and would willingly turn on his track, and refuse it, he finds it no longer possible to do so. In fact, he is not allowed time for reflection. The dense crowd presses from behind, and he is left no choice, except that of springing forward or suffering himself to be tumbled over upon his head. In either case it is his last leap; and, frequently, the last of a whole crowd of his companions. With such persecutions, I need hardly say that the buffaloes are becoming scarcer every year; and it is predicted that at no distant period this really valuable mammal will be altogether extinct. At present their range is greatly contracted within the wide boundaries which it formerly occupied. Going west from the Mississippi,--at any point below the mouth of the Missouri,--you will not meet with buffalo for the first three hundred miles; and, though the herds formerly ranged to the south and west of the Rio Grande, the Comanches on the banks of that river no longer know the buffalo, except by their excursions to the grand prairie far to the north of their country. The Great Slave Lake is the northern terminus of the buffalo range; and westward the chain of the Rocky Mountains; but of late years stray herds have been observed at some points west of these,--impelled through the passes by the hunter-pressure of the horse Indians from the eastward. Speculators have adopted several ingenious and plausible reasons to account for the diminution of the numbers of the buffalo. There is but one cause worth assigning,--a very simple one too,--the horse. With the disappearance of the buffalo,--or perhaps with the thinning of their numbers,--the prairie Indians may be induced to throw aside their roving habits. This would be a happy result both for them and their neighbours; though it is even doubtful whether it might follow from such a circumstance. No doubt some change would be effected in their mode of life; but unfortunately these Bedouins of the Western world can live upon the horse, even if the buffalo were entirely extirpated. Even as it is, whole tribes of them subsist almost exclusively upon horse-flesh, which they esteem and relish more than any other food. But this resource would, in time, also fail them; for they have not the economy to raise a sufficient supply for the demand that would occur were the buffaloes once out of the way: since the _caballadas_ of wild mustangs are by no means so easy to capture as the "gangs" of unwieldy and lumbering buffaloes. It is to be hoped, however, that before the horse Indians have been put to this trial, the strong arm of civilisation shall be extended over them, and, withholding them from those predatory incursions, which they annually make into the Mexican settlements, will induce them to _dismount_, and turn peaceably to the tillage of the soil,--now so successfully practised by numerous tribes of their race, who dwell in fixed and flourishing homes upon the eastern border of the prairies. At this moment, however, the Comanches are in open hostility with the settlers of the Texan frontier. The _lex talionis_ is in active operation while we write, and every mail brings the account of some sanguinary massacre, or some act of terrible retaliation. The deeds of blood and savage cruelty practised alike by both sides--whites as well as Indians--have had their parallel, it is true, but they are not the less revolting to read about. The colonists have suffered much from these Ishmaelites of the West,--these lordly savages, who regard industry as a dishonourable calling; and who fancy that their vast territory should remain an idle hunting-ground, or rather a fortress, to which they might betake themselves during their intervals of war and plundering. The colonists have a clear title to the land,--that title acknowledged by all right-thinking men, who believe the good of the majority must not be sacrificed to the obstinacy of the individual, or the minority,--that title which gives the right to remove the dwelling of the citizen,--his very castle,--rather than that the public way be impeded. All admit this right; and just such a title has the Texan colonist to the soil of the Comanche. There may be guilt in the _mode_ of establishing the claim,--there may have been scenes of cruelty, and blood unnecessarily spilt,--but it is some consolation to know that there has occurred nothing yet to parallel in cold-blooded atrocity the annals of Algiers, or the similar acts committed in Southern Africa. The crime of _smoke-murder_ is yet peculiar to Pellisier and Potgieter. In their present outbreak, the Comanches have exhibited but a poor, short-sighted policy. They will find they have committed a grand error in mistaking the courageous colonists of Texas for the weak Mexicans,-- with whom they have long been at war, and whom they have almost invariably conquered. The result is easily told: much blood may be shed on both sides, but it is sure to end as all such contests do; and the Comanche, like the Caffre, must "go to the wall." Perhaps it is better that things should be brought to a climax,--it will certainly be better for the wretched remnant of the Spano-Americans dwelling along the Comanche frontiers,--a race who for a hundred years have not known peace. As this long-standing hostility with the Mexican nation has been a predominant feature in the history of the Comanche Indian, it is necessary to give some account of how it is usually carried on. There was a time when the Spanish nation entertained the hope of _Christianising_ these rude savages,--that is, taming and training them to something of the condition to which they have brought the Aztec descendants of Montezuma,--a condition scarce differing from slavery itself. As no gold or silver mines had been discovered in Texas, it was not their intention to make mine-labourers of them; but rather peons, or field-labourers, and tenders of cattle,--precisely as they had done, and were still doing, with the tribes of California. The soldier and the sword had proved a failure,--as in many other parts of Spanish America,--in fact, everywhere, except among the degenerated remnants of monarchical misrule found in Mexico, Bogota, and Peru. In these countries was encountered the _debris_ of a declining civilisation, and not, as is generally believed, the children of a progressive development; and of course they gave way,--as the people of all corrupted monarchies must in the end. It was different with the "Indios bravos," or warrior tribes, still free and independent,--the so-called _savages_. Against these the soldier and the sword proved a complete failure; and it therefore became necessary to use the other kind of conquering power,--the monk and his cross. Among the Comanches this kind of conquest had attained a certain amount of success. Mission-houses sprung up through the whole province of Texas,--the Comanche country,--though the new neophytes were not altogether Comanches, but rather Indians of other tribes who were less warlike. Many Comanches, however, became converts; and some of the "missiones" became establishments on a grand scale,--each having, according to Spanish missionary-fashion, its "presidio," or garrison of troops, to keep the new believers within sound of the bell, and to hunt and bring them back, whenever they endeavoured to escape from that Christian vassalage for which they had too rashly exchanged their pagan freedom. All went well, so long as Spain was a power upon the earth, and the Mexican viceroyalty was rich enough to keep the presidios stocked with troopers. The monks led as jolly a life as their prototypes of "Bolton Abbey in the olden time." The neophytes were simply their slaves, receiving, in exchange for the sweat of their brow, baptism, absolution, little pewter crucifixes, and various like valuable commodities. But there came a time when they grew tired of the exchange, and longed for their old life of roving freedom. Their brethren had obtained the horse; and this was an additional attraction which a prairie life presented. They grew tired of the petty tricks of the Christian superstition,--to their view less rational than their own,--they grew tired of the toil of constant work, the childlike chastisements inflicted, and sick of the sound of that ever-clanging clapper,--the bell. In fine, they made one desperate effort, and freed themselves forever. The grand establishment of San Saba, on the river of the same name, fell first. The troops were abroad on some convert-hunting expedition. The Comanches entered the fort,--their tomahawks and war-clubs hidden under their great robes of buffalo-hide: the attack commenced, and ended only with the annihilation of the settlement. One monk alone escaped the slaughter,--a man renowned for his holy zeal. He fled towards San Antonio, pursued by a savage band. A large river coursed across the route it was necessary for him to take; but this did not intercept him: its waters opened for a moment, till the bottom was bare from bank to bank. He crossed without wetting his feet. The waves closed immediately behind him, offering an impassable barrier to his pursuers, who could only vent their fury in idle curses! But the monk could curse too. He had, perhaps, taken some lessons at the Vatican; and, turning round, he anathematised every "mother's son" of the red-skinned savages. The wholesale excommunication produced a wonderful effect. Every one of the accursed fell back where he stood, and lay face upward upon the plain, dead as a post! The monk, after baptising the river "Brazos de Dios" (arm of God), continued his flight, and reached San Antonio in safety,--where he duly detailed his miraculous adventure to the credulous converts of Bejar, and the other missions. Such is the supposed origin of the name Brazos de Dios, which the second river in Texas bears to this day. It is to be remarked, however, that the river crossed by the monk was the present Colorado, not the Brazos: for, by a curious error of the colonists, the two rivers have made an exchange of titles! The Comanches--freed from missionary rule, and now equal to their adversaries by possession of the horse--forthwith commenced their plundering expeditions; and, with short intervals of truce,--periods _en paz_,--have continued them to the present hour. All Northern and Western Texas they soon recovered; but they were not content with territory: they wanted horses and cattle and chattels, and white wives and slaves; and it would scarce be credited, were I to state the number of these they have taken within the last half-century. Nearly every year they have been in the habit of making an expedition to the Mexican settlements of the provinces Tamaulipas, New Leon, and Chihuahua,--every expedition a fresh conquest over their feeble and corrupt adversaries. On every occasion they have returned with booty, consisting of horses, cattle, sheep, household utensils, and, sad to relate, human captives. Women and children only do they bring back,--the men they kill upon sight. The children may be either male or female,--it matters not which, as these are to be adopted into their tribe, to become future warriors; and, strange to relate, many of these, when grown up, not only refuse to return to the land of their birth, but prove the most bitter and dangerous foes to the people from whom they have sprung! Even the girls and women, after a period, become reconciled to their new home, and no longer desire to leave it. Some, when afterwards discovered and ransomed by their kindred, have refused to accept the conditions, but prefer to continue the savage career into which misfortune has introduced them! Many a heartrending scene has been the consequence of such apparently unnatural predilections. You would wonder why such a state of things has been so long submitted to by a civilised people; but it is not so much to be wondered at. The selfishness that springs from constant revolutions has destroyed almost every sentiment of patriotism in the Mexican national heart; and, indeed, many of these captives are perhaps not much worse off under the guardianship of the brave Comanches than they would have been, exposed to the petty tyranny and robber-rule that has so long existed in Mexico. Besides, it is doubtful whether the Mexican government, with all her united strength, could retake them. The Comanche country is as inaccessible to a regular army as the territory of Timbuctoo; and it will give even the powerful republic of the north no small trouble to reduce these red freebooters to subjection. Mexico had quite despaired of being able to make an effort; and in the last treaty made between her and the United States, one of the articles was a special agreement on the part of the latter to restrain the Comanches from future forays into the Mexican states, and also cause them to deliver up the Mexican captives then in the hands of the Indians! It was computed that their number at the time amounted to four thousand! It is with regret I have to add, that these unfortunates are still held in bondage. The great republic, too busy with its own concerns, has not carried out the stipulations of the treaty; and the present Comanche war is but the result of this criminal negligence. Had energetic measures been adopted at the close of the Mexico-American war, the Comanche would not now be harrying the settlers of Texas. To prove the incapacity of the Mexicans to deal with this warlike race, it only needs to consider the present condition of the northern Mexican states. One half the territory in that extensive region has returned to the condition of a desert. The isolated "ranchos" have been long since abandoned,--the fields are overgrown with weeds,--and the cattle have run wild or been carried off by the Comanches. Only the stronger settlements and large fortified haciendas any longer exist; and many of these, too, have been deserted. Where children once played in the security of innocence,--where gaily-dressed cavaliers and elegant ladies amused themselves in the pleasant _dia de campo_, such scenes are no longer witnessed. The rancho is in ruins,--the door hangs upon its hinge, broken and battered, or has been torn off to feed the camp-fire of the savage; the dwelling is empty and silent, except when the howling wolf or coyote wakes up the echoes of its walls. About ten years ago, the proud governor of the state of Chihuahua--one of the most energetic soldiers of the Mexican republic--had a son taken captive by the Comanches. Powerful though this man was, he knew it was idle to appeal to arms; and was only too contented to recover his child by paying a large ransom! This fact, more than a volume of words, will illustrate the condition of unhappy Mexico. The Comanche leads a gay, merry life,--he is far from being the Indian of Cooper's description. In scarcely any respect does he resemble the sombre son of the forest. He is lively, talkative, and ever ready for a laugh. His butt is the Mexican presidio soldier, whom he holds in too just contempt. He is rarely without a meal. If the buffalo fails him, he can draw a steak from his spare horses, of which he possesses a large herd: besides, there are the wild mustangs, which he can capture on occasions. He has no work to do except war and hunting: at all other times he has slaves to wait upon him, and perform the domestic drudgery. When idle, he sometimes bestows great pains upon his dress,--which is the usual deer-skin tunic of the prairie Indian, with mocassins and fringed leggings. Sometimes a head-dress of plumes is worn; sometimes one of the skin of the buffalo's skull, with the horns left on! The robe of buffalo pelt hangs from his shoulders, with all the grandeur of a toga; but when he proceeds on a plundering expedition, all these fripperies are thrown aside, and his body appears naked from the waist to the ears. Then only the breech-clout is worn, with leggings and mocassins on his legs and feet. A coat of scarlet paint takes the place of the hunting-shirt,--in order to render his presence more terrific in the eyes of his enemy. It needs not this. Without any disguise, the sight of him is sufficiently horrifying,--sufficiently suggestive of "blood and murder." CHAPTER TWELVE. THE PEHUENCHES, OR PAMPAS INDIANS. The vast plain known as the "Pampas" is one of the largest tracts of level country upon the face of the earth. East and west it stretches from the mouth of the Rio de la Plata to the foothills of the Andes mountains. It is interrupted on the north by a series of mountains and hill country, that cross from the Andes to the Paraguay River, forming the Sierras of Mendoza, San Luis, and Cordova; while its southern boundary is not so definitely marked, though it may be regarded as ending at the Rio Negro, where it meets, coming up from the south, the desert plains of Patagonia. Geologically, the Pampas (or plains, as the word signifies, in the language of the Peruvian Indians) is an alluvial formation,--the bed of an ancient sea,--upheaved by some unknown cause to its present elevation, which is not much above the ocean-level. It is not, therefore, a _plateau_ or "tableland," but a vast natural meadow. The soil is in general of a red colour, argillaceous in character, and at all points filled with marine shells and other testimonies that the sea once rolled over it. It is in the Pampas formation that many of the fossil monsters have been found,--the gigantic megatherium, the colossal _mylodon_, and the giant armadillo (_glyptodon_), with many other creatures, of such dimensions as to make it a subject of speculation how the earth could have produced food enough for their maintenance. In giving to the Pampas the designation of a _vast meadow_, do not suffer yourself to be misled by this phrase,--which is here and elsewhere used in rather a loose and indefinite manner. Many large tracts in the Pampas country would correspond well enough to this definition,--both as regards their appearance and the character of the herbage which covers them; but there are other parts which bear not the slightest resemblance to a meadow. There are vast tracts thickly covered with tall thistles,--so tall as to reach to the head of a man mounted on horseback, and so thickly set, that neither man nor horse could enter them without a path being first cleared for them. Other extensive tracts are grown over with tall grass so rank as to resemble reeds or rushes more than grass; and an equally extensive surface is timbered with small trees, standing thinly and without underwood, like the fruit-trees in an orchard. Again, there are wide morasses and extensive lakes, many of them brackish, and some as salt as the sea itself. In addition to these, there are "salinas," or plains of salt,--the produce of salt lakes, whose waters have evaporated, leaving a stratum of pure salt often over a foot in thickness, and covering their beds to an extent of many square leagues. There are some parts, too, where the Pampas country assumes a sterile and stony character,-- corresponding to that of the great desert of Patagonia. It is not correct therefore, to regard the Pampas as one unbroken tract of _meadow_. In one character alone is it uniform in being a country without mountains,--or any considerable elevations in the way of ridges or hills,--though a few scattered sierras are found both on its northern and southern edges. The _Thistle Pampas_, as we take the liberty of naming them, constitute perhaps the most curious section of this great plain; and not the less so that the "weed" which covers them is supposed not to be an indigenous production, but to have been carried there by the early colonists. About this, however, there is a difference of opinion. No matter whence sprung, the thistles have flourished luxuriantly, and at this day constitute a marked feature in the scenery of the Pampas. Their position is upon the eastern edge of the great plain, contiguous to the banks of the La Plata; but from this river they extend backwards into the interior, at some points to the distance of nearly two hundred miles. Over this vast surface they grow so thickly that, as already mentioned, it is not possible for either man or horse to make way through them. They can only be traversed by devious paths--already formed by constant use, and leading through narrow lanes or glades, where, for some reason, the thistles do not choose to grow. Otherwise they cannot be entered even by cattle. These will not, unless compelled, attempt penetrating such an impervious thicket; and if a herd driven along the paths should chance to be "stampeded" by any object of terror, and driven to take to the thistles, scarce a head of the whole flock can ever afterwards be recovered. Even the instincts of the dumb animals do not enable them to find their way out again; and they usually perish, either from thirst, or by the claws of the fierce pumas and jaguars, which alone find themselves at home in the labyrinthine "_cardonales_." The little _viscacha_ contrives to make its burrow among them, and must find subsistence by feeding upon their leaves and seed, since there is no other herbage upon the ground,--the well-armed thistle usurping the soil, and hindering the growth of any other plants. It may be proper to remark, however, that there are two kinds of these plants, both of which cover large tracts of the plain. One is a true thistle, while the other is a weed of the artichoke family, called by the Spanish Americans "cardoon." It is a species of _Cardunculus_. The two do not mingle their stalks, though both form thickets in a similar manner and often in the same tract of country. The cardoon is not so tall as the thistle; and, being without spines, its "beds" are more easily penetrated; though even among these, it would be easy enough to get entangled and lost. It is proper to remark here, that these thistle-thickets do not shut up the country all the year round. Only for a season,--from the time they have grown up and "shoot," till their tall ripened stalks wither and fall back to the earth, where they soon moulder into decay. The plains are then open and free to all creatures,--man among the rest,--and the Gaucho, with his herds of horses, horned cattle, and sheep, or the troops of roving Indians, spread over and take possession of them. The young thistles now present the appearance of a vast field of turnips; and their leaves, still tender, are greedily devoured by both cattle and sheep. In this condition the Pampas thistles remain during their short winter; but as spring returns, they once more "bristle" up, till, growing taller and stouter, they present a _chevaux-de-frise_ that at length expels all intruders from their domain. On the western selvage of this thistle tract lies the grass-covered section of the Pampas. It is much more extensive than that of the "cardonales,"--having an average width of three hundred miles, and running longitudinally throughout the whole northern and southern extension of the Pampas. Its chief characteristic is a covering of coarse grass,--which at different seasons of the year is short or tall, green, brown, or yellowish, according to the different degrees of ripeness. When dry, it is sometimes fired,--either by design or accident,--as are also the withered stems of the thistles; and on these occasions a conflagration occurs, stupendous in its effects,--often extending over vast tracts, and reducing everything to black ashes. Nothing can be more melancholy to the eye than the aspect of a burnt pampa. The grass section is succeeded by that of the "openings," or scanty forests, already mentioned; but the trees in many places are more closely set; assuming the character of thickets, or "jungles." These tracts end among the spurs of the Andes,--which, at some points, are thrown out into the plain, but generally rise up from it abruptly and by a well-defined border. The marshes and bitter lakes above mentioned are the produce of numerous streams, which have their rise in the Great Cordillera of the Andes, and run eastward across the Pampas. A few of these, that trend in a southerly direction, reach the Atlantic by means of the two great outlets,--the "Colorado" and "Negro." All the others--and "their name is legion"--empty their waters into the morasses and lakes, or sink into the soil of the plains, at a greater or less distance from the Cordillera, according to the body of water they may carry down. Evaporation keeps up the equilibrium. Who are the dwellers upon the Pampas? To whom does this vast pasture-ground belong? Whose flocks and herds are they that browse upon it? You will be told that the Pampas belong to the republic of Buenos Ayres, or rather to the "States of the Argentine Confederation,"--that they are inhabited by a class of citizens called "Gauchos," who are of Spanish race, and whose sole occupation is that of herdsmen, breeders of cattle and horses,--men famed for their skill as horsemen, and for their dexterity in the use of the "lazo" and "bolas,"--two weapons borrowed from the aboriginal races. All this is but partially true. The proprietorship of this great plain was never actually in the hands of the Buenos-Ayrean government, nor in those of their predecessors,--the Spaniards. Neither has ever owned it--either by conquest or otherwise:--no further than by an empty boast of ownership; for, from the day when they first set foot upon its borders to the present hour, neither has ever been able to cross it, or penetrate any great distance into it, without a grand army to back their progress. But their possession virtually ceased at the termination of each melancholy excursion; and the land relapsed to its original owners. With the exception of some scanty strips along its borders, and some wider ranges, thinly occupied by the half-nomade Gauchos, the Pampas are in reality an Indian territory, as they have always been; and the claim of the white man is no more than nominal,--a mere title upon the map. It is not the only vast expanse of Spanish American soil that _never was Spanish_. The true owners of the Pampas, then, are the red aborigines,--the Pampas Indians; and to give some account of these is now our purpose. Forming so large an extent, it is not likely it should all belong to one united tribe,--that would at once elevate them into the character of a nation. But they are not united. On the contrary, they form several distinct associations, with an endless number of smaller subdivisions or communities,--just in the same way as it is among their prairie cousin of the north. They may all, however, be referred to four grand tribal associations or nationalities,--the _Pehuenches_, _Puelches_, _Picunches_, and _Ranqueles_. Some add the _Puilliches_, who dwell on the southern rim of the Pampas; but these, although they extend their excursions over a portion of the great plain, are different from the other Pampas Indians in many respects,--altogether a braver and better race of men, and partaking more of the character of the Patagonians,--both in point of _physique_ and _morale_,--of which tribes, indeed, they are evidently only a branch. In their dealings with white men, when fairly treated, these have exhibited the same noble bearing which characterises the true Patagonian. I shall not, therefore, lower the standard--neither of their bodies nor their minds--by classing them among "Pampas Indians." Of these tribes--one and all of them--we have, unfortunately, a much less favourable impression; and shall therefore be able to say but little to their credit. The different names are all native. _Puelches_ means the people living to the east, from "_puel_," east, and _che_, people. The _Picunches_ derive this appellation, in a similar fashion, from "_picun_," signifying the north. The _Pehuenches_ are the people of the pine-tree country, from "_pehuen_," the name for the celebrated "Chili pine" (_Araucaria_); and the _Ranqueles_ are the men who dwell among the thistles, from _ranquel_, a thistle. These national appellations will give some idea of the locality which each tribe inhabits. The _Ranqueles_ dwell, not among the thistles,-- for that would be an unpleasant residence, even to a red-skin; but along the western border of this tract. To the westward of them, and up into the clefts of the Cordilleras extends the country of the Pehuenches; and northward of both lies the land of the Picunches. Their boundary in that direction _should be_ the frontiers of the _quasi-civilised_ provinces of San Luis and Cordova, but they are _not_; for the Picunche can at will extend his plundering forays as far north as he pleases: even to _dovetailing_ them into the similar excursions of his _Guaycuru_ kinsmen from the "Gran Chaco" on the north. The Puelche territory is on the eastern side of the Pampas, and south from Buenos Ayres. At one time these people occupied the country to the banks of the La Plata; and no doubt it was they who first met the Spaniards in hostile array. Even up to a late period their forays extended almost to Buenos Ayres itself; but Rosas, tyrant as he may have been, was nevertheless a true soldier, and in a grand military expedition against them swept their country, and inflicted such a terrible chastisement upon both them and the neighbouring tribes, as they had not suffered since the days of Mendoza. The result has been a retirement of the Puelche frontier to a much greater distance from Buenos Ayres; but how long it may continue stationary is a question,--no longer than some strong arm--such as that of Rosas--is held threateningly over them. It is usual to inquire whence come a people; and the question has been asked of the Pampas Indians. It is not difficult to answer. They came from the land of Arauco. Yes, they are the kindred of that famed people whom the Spaniards could never subdue,--even with all their strength put forth in the effort. They are near kindred too,--the Pehuenches especially,--whose country is only separated from that of the Araucanians by the great Cordillera of Chili; and with whom, as well as the Spaniards on the Chilian side, they have constant and friendly intercourse. But it must be admitted, that the Araucanians have had far more than their just meed of praise. The romantic stories, in that endless epic of the rhymer Ercilla, have crept into history; and the credulous Molina has endorsed them: so that the true character of the Araucanian Indian has never been understood. Brave he has shown himself, beyond doubt, in defending his country against Spanish aggression; but so, too, has the Carib and Guaraon,--so, too, has the Comanche and Apache, the Yaqui of Sonora, the savage of the Mosquito shore, the Guaycuru of the Gran Chaco, and a score of other Indian tribes,--in whose territory the Spaniard has never dared to fix a settlement. Brave is the Araucanian; but, beyond this, he has few virtues indeed. He is cruel in the extreme,--uncivil and selfish,--filthy and indolent,--a polygamist in the most approved fashion,--a very tyrant over his own,--in short, taking rank among the beastliest of semi-civilised savages,--for it may be here observed, that he is not exactly what is termed a _savage_: that is, he does not go naked, and sleep in the open air. On the contrary, he clothes himself in stuff of his own weaving,--or rather, that of his slave-wives,--and lives in a hut which they build for him. He owns land, too,--beautiful fields,--of which he makes no use: except to browse a few horses, and sheep, and cattle. For the rest, he is too indolent to pursue agriculture; and spends most of his time in drinking _chicha_, or tyrannising over his wives. This is the heroic Araucanian who inhabits the plains and valleys of Southern Chili. Unfortunately, by passing to the other side of the Andes, he has not improved his manners. The air of the Pampas does not appear to be conducive to virtue; and upon that side of the mountains it can scarce be said to exist,--even in the shape of personal courage. The men of the pines and thistles seem to have lost this quality, while passing through the snows of the Cordilleras, or left it behind them, as they have also left the incipient civilisation of their race. On the Pampas we find them once more in the character of the true savage: living by the chase or by plunder; and bartering the produce of the latter for the trappings and trinkets of personal adornment, supplied them by the unprincipled white trader. Puelches and Picunches, Pehuenches and Ranqueles, all share this character alike,--all are treacherous, quarrelsome, and cowardly. But we shall now speak more particularly of their customs and modes of life, and we may take the "pine people" as our text,--since these are supposed to be most nearly related to the true Araucanians,--and, indeed, many of their "ways" are exactly the same as those of that "heroic nation." The "people of the pines" are of the ordinary stature of North-American Indians, or of Europeans; and their natural colour is a dark coppery hue. But it is not often you can see them in their natural colour: for the Pampas Indians, like nearly all the aboriginal tribes, are "painters." They have pigments of black and white, blue, red, and yellow,--all of which they obtain from different coloured stones, found in the streams of the Cordilleras. "Yama," they call the black stone; "colo," the red; "palan," the white; and "codin," the blue; the yellow they obtain from a sort of argillaceous earth. The stones of each colour they submit to a rubbing or grinding process, until a quantity of dust is produced; which, being mixed with suet, constitutes the paint, ready for being laid on. The Pampas Indians do not confine themselves to any particular "escutcheon." In this respect their fancy is allowed a wide scope, and their fashions change. A face quite black, or red, is a common countenance among them; and often may be seen a single band, of about two inches in width, extending from ear to ear across the eyes and nose. On war excursions they paint hideous figures: not only on their own faces and bodies, but on their trappings, and even upon the bodies of their horses,--aiming to render themselves as appalling as possible in the sight of their enemies. The same trick is employed by the warriors of the prairies, as well as in many other parts of the world. Under ordinary circumstances, the Pampas Indian is not a _naked_ savage. On the contrary, he is well clad; and, so far from obtaining the material of his garments from the looms of civilised nations, he weaves it for himself,--that is, his wives weave it; and in such quantity that he has not only enough for his own "wear," but more than enough, a surplus for trade. The cloth is usually a stuff spun and woven from sheep's wool. It is coarse, but durable; and in the shape of blankets or "ponchos," is eagerly purchased by the Spanish traders. Silver spurs, long, pointed knives, lance-heads, and a few other iron commodities, constitute the articles of exchange, with various ornamental articles, as beads, rings, bracelets, and large-headed silver bodkins to fasten their cloaks around the shoulders of his "ladies." Nor is he contented with mere tinsel, as other savages are,--he can tell the difference between the real metal and the counterfeit, as well as the most expert assayer; and if he should fancy to have a pair of silver spurs, not even a Jew peddler could put off upon him the plated "article." In this respect the Araucanian Indian has been distinguished, since his earliest intercourse with Europeans; and his Pampas kindred are equally subtle in their appreciation. The Pampas Indian, when well dressed, has a cloak upon his shoulders of the thick woollen stuff already described. It is usually woven in colours; and is not unlike the "poncho" worn by the "gauchos" of Buenos Ayres, or the "serape" of the Mexicans. Besides the cloak, his dress consists of a mere skirt,--also of coloured woollen stuff, being an oblong piece swathed around his loins, and reaching to the knee. A sash or belt--sometimes elaborately ornamented--binds the cloth around the waist. Boots of a peculiar construction complete the costume. These are manufactured in a very simple manner. The fresh skin taken from a horse's hind leg is drawn on--just as if it were a stocking--until the heel rests in that part which covered the hock-joint of the original wearer. The superfluous portion is then trimmed to accommodate itself as a covering for the foot; and the boot is not only finished, but put on,--there to remain until it is worn out, and a new one required! If it should be a little loose at first, that does not matter. The hot sun, combined with the warmth of the wearer's leg, soon contracts the hide, and brings it to "fit like a glove." The head is often left uncovered; but as often a sort of skullcap or helmet of horse-skin is worn; and not unfrequently a high, conical hat of palm fibre. This last is not a native production, but an importation of the traders. So also is a pair of enormous rings of brass, which are worn in the ears; and are as bulky as a pair of padlocks. In this costume, mounted on horseback with his long lance in hand, the Pampas Indian would be a picturesque, object; and really is so, when _clean_; but that is only on the very rarest occasions,--only when he has donned a new suit. At all other times, not only his face and the skin of his body, but every rag upon his back, are covered with grease and filth,--so as to produce an effect rather "tatterdemalion" than picturesque. The "squaw" is costumed somewhat differently. First, she has a long "robe," which covers her from neck to heels, leaving only her neck and arms bare. The robe is of red or blue woollen stuff of her own weaving. This garment is the "quedeto." A belt, embroidered with beads, called "quepique," holds it around the waist, by means of a large silver buckle. This belt is an article, of first fashion. Over the shoulders hangs the "iquilla," which is a square piece of similar stuff,--but usually of a different dye; and which is fastened in front by a pin with a large silver head, called the "tupo." The shock of thick, black hair--after having received the usual anointment of mare's tallow, the fashionable hair-oil of the Pampas Indians--is kept in its place by a sort of cap or _coiffure_, like a shallow dish inverted, and bristling all over with trader's beads. To this a little bell is fastened; or sometimes a brace of them are worn as earrings. These tinkle so agreeably in the ears of the wearer, that she can scarce for a moment hold her head at rest, but keeps rocking it from side to side, as a Spanish coquette would play with her fan. In addition to this varied wardrobe, the Pampas belle carries a large stock of bijouterie,--such as beads and bangles upon her neck, rings and circlets upon her arms, ankles, and fingers; and, to set her snaky locks in order, she separates them by means of a stiff brush, made from the fibrous roots of a reed. _She_ is _picturesque_ enough, but never _pretty_. Nature has given the Araucanian woman a plain face; and all the adornment in the world cannot hide its homeliness. The Pehuenche builds no house. He is a true nomade, and dwells in a tent, though one of the rudest construction. As it differs entirely from the tent of the prairie Indians, it may be worth while describing it. Its framework is of reeds,--of the same kind as are used for the long lances so often mentioned; and which resemble _bambusa_ canes. They grow in plenty throughout the Pampas, especially near the mountains,-- where they form impenetrable thickets on the borders of the marshy lakes. Any other flexible poles will serve as well, when the canes are not "handy." The poles being procured, one is first bent into a semicircle, and in this shape both ends are stuck into the ground, so as to form an arch about three feet in height. This arch afterwards becomes the doorway or entrance to the tent. The remaining poles are attached to this first one at one end, and at right angles; and being carried backward with a slight bend, their other ends are inserted into the turf. This forms the skeleton of the tent; and its covering is a horse-skin, or rather a number of horse-skins stitched together, making a sort of large tarpaulin. The skins are sewed with the sinews of the horse or ox,-- which are first chewed by the women, until their fibres become separated like hemp, and are afterwards spun by them into twine. The tent is not tall enough to admit of a man standing erect; and in it the Pehuenche crouches, whenever it snows, rains, or blows cold. He has sheep-skins spread to sleep upon, and other skins to serve as bed-clothes,--all in so filthy a condition, that but for the cold, he might find it far more comfortable to sleep in the open air. He never attempts to sweep out this miserable lair; but when the spot becomes _very_ filthy, he "takes up his sticks" and shifts his penates to a fresh "location." He is generally, however, too indolent to make a "remove,"--until the dirt has accumulated so as to "be in the way." The Pampas Indian is less of a hunter than most other tribes of savages. He has less need to be,--at least, in modern days; for he is in possession of three kinds of valuable domestic animals, upon which he can subsist without hunting,--horses, horned cattle, and sheep. Of course, these are of colonial origin. He hunts, nevertheless, for amusement, and to vary his food. The larger ostrich (_rhea Americana_), the guanaco, and the great "gama" stag of the Pampas (_cervus campestris_) are his usual game. These he captures with the _bolas_,-- which is his chief implement for the chase. In the flesh of the stag he may find a variety, but not a delicacy. Its venison would scarce tempt a Lucullian palate,--since even the hungriest Gaucho will not eat it. It is a large beast, often weighing above three hundred pounds; and infecting the air with such a rank odour, that dogs decline to follow it in the chase. This odour is generated in a pair of glands situated near the eyes; and it has the power of projecting it at will,--just as skunks and polecats when closely chased by an enemy. If these glands are cut out immediately after the animal is killed, the flesh tastes well enough: otherwise it is too rank to be eatable. The Indians cure it of the "bad smell" by burying it for several days in the ground; which has the effect of "sweetening" it, while at the same time it makes it more tender. But the Pampas Indian does not rely upon the chase for his subsistence. He is a small grazier in his way; and is usually accompanied in his wanderings by a herd of horned cattle and sheep. He has also his stud of horses; which furnish the staple of his food,--for whenever he hungers, a horse is "slaughtered." Strictly speaking, it is not a horse, for it is the mare that is used for this purpose. In no part of the Pampas region,--not even in the white settlement,--are the mares used for riding. It would be considered derogatory to the character of either Gaucho or Indian to mount a mare; and these are kept only for breeding purposes. Not that the Indian is much of a horse-breeder. He keeps up his stock in quite another way,--by stealing. The same remark will apply to the mode by which he recruits his herds of horned cattle, and his flocks of sheep. The last he values only for their wool; out of which his garments are woven; and which has replaced the scantier fleece of the vicuna and guanaco,--the material used by him in days gone by. From whom does he steal these valuable animals,--and in such numbers as almost to subsist upon them? That is a question that can be easily answered; though it is not exact language to say that he steals them. Rather say that he _takes_ them, by main force and in open daylight,-- takes them from the Creole Spaniard,--the Gaucho and _estanciero_. Nay, he does not content himself always with four-footed plunder; but often returns from his forays with a crowd of captives,--women and children, with white skins and ruddy cheeks,--afterwards to be converted into his drudges and slaves. Not alone to the frontier does he extend these plundering expeditions; but even into the heart of the Spanish settlements,--to the estancias of grandees, and the gates of fortified towns; and, strange as it may read, this condition of things has been in existence, not for years, but, at intervals, extending over a century! But what may read stranger still--and I can vouch for it as true--is, that _white men_ actually purchase this plunder from him,--not the human part of it, but the four-footed and the _furniture_,--for this, too, sometimes forms part of his booty. Yes, the surplus, of which the Indian can make no use or cares nothing about,--more especially the large droves of fine horses, taken from the Spaniards of Buenos Ayres,-- are driven through the passes of the Cordilleras, and sold to the Spaniards of Chili! the people of one province actually encouraging the robbery of their kindred race in another! The very same condition of things exists in North America. The Comanche, steals, or rather takes, from the white settler of Tamaulipas and New Leon,--the Apache rieves from the white settler of Chihuahua and Sonora: both sell to the white settlers, who dwell along the banks of the Rio del Norte! And all these settlers are of one race,--one country,--one kindred! These things have hitherto been styled _cosas de Mexico_. Their signification may be extended to South America: since they are equally _cosas de las Pampas_. We are not permitted to doubt the truth of these appalling facts,-- neither as regards the nefarious traffic, nor the captive women and children. At this very hour, not less than four thousand individuals of Spanish-Mexican race are held captives by the prairie tribes; and when Rosas swept the Pampas, he released fifteen hundred of similar unfortunates from their worse than Egyptian taskmasters,--the Puelches! With such facts as these before our eyes, who can doubt the decline of the Spanish power? the utter enfeeblement of that once noble race? Who can contradict the hypothetical prophecy--more than once offered in these pages--that if the two races be left to themselves, the aboriginal, before the lapse of a single century, will once more recover the soil; and his haughty victor be swept from the face of the American continent? Nor need such a change be too keenly regretted. The Spanish occupation of America has been an utter failure. It has served no high human purpose, but the contrary. It has only corrupted and encowardiced a once brave and noble race; and, savage as may be the character of that which would supplant it, still that savage has within him the elements of a future civilisation. Not so the Spaniard. The fire of his civilisation has blazed up with a high but fitful gleam. It has passed like the lightning's flash. Its sparks have fallen and died out,--never to be rekindled again. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. THE YAMPARICOS, OR ROOT-DIGGERS. It is now pretty generally known that there are many _deserts_ in North America,--as wild, waste, and inhospitable as the famed Sahara of Africa. These deserts occupy a large portion of the central regions of that great continent--extending, north and south, from Mexico to the shores of the Arctic Sea; and east and west for several hundred miles, on each side of the great vertebral chain of the Rocky Mountains. It is true that in the vast territory thus indicated, the desert is not continuous; but it is equally true that the fertile stripes or valleys that intersect it, bear but a very small proportion to the whole surface. Many tracts are there, of larger area than all the British Islands, where the desert is scarce varied by an oasis, and where the very rivers pursue their course amidst rocks and barren sands, without a blade of vegetation on their banks. Usually, however, a narrow selvage of green--caused by the growth of cotton woods, willows, and a few humbler plants--denotes the course of a stream,--a glad sight at all times to the weary and thirsting traveller. These desert wastes are not all alike, but differ much in character. In one point only do they agree,--they are all _deserts_. Otherwise they exhibit many varieties,--both of aspect and nature. Some of them are level plains, with scarce a hill to break the monotony of the view: and of this character is the greater portion of the desert country extending eastward from the Rocky Mountains to about 100 degrees of west longitude. At this point the soil gradually becomes more fertile,-- assuming the character of timbered tracts, with prairie opening between,--at length terminating in the vast, unbroken forests of the Mississippi. This eastern desert extends parallel with the Rocky Mountains,-- throughout nearly the whole of their length,--from the Rio Grande in Mexico, northward to the Mackenzie River. One tract of it deserves particular mention. It is that known as the _llano estacado_, or "staked plain," It lies in North-western Texas, and consists of a barren plateau, of several thousand square miles in extent, the surface of which is raised nearly a thousand feet above the level of the surrounding plains. Geologists have endeavoured to account for this singular formation, but in vain. The table-like elevation of the Llano estacado still remains a puzzle. Its name, however, is easier of explanation. In the days of Spanish supremacy over this part of Prairie-land, caravans frequently journeyed from Santa Fe in New Mexico, to San Antonio in Texas. The most direct route between these two provincial capitals lay across the Llano estacado; but as there were neither mountains nor other landmarks to guide the traveller, he often wandered from the right path,--a mistake that frequently ended in the most terrible suffering from thirst, and very often in the loss of life. To prevent such catastrophes, stakes were set up at such intervals as to be seen from one another, like so many "telegraph posts;" and although these have long since disappeared, the great plain still bears the name, given to it from this circumstance. Besides the contour of surface, there are other respects in which the desert tracts of North America differ from one another. In their vegetation--if it deserves the name--they are unlike. Some have no vegetation whatever; but exhibit a surface of pure sand, or sand and pebbles; others are covered with a stratum of soda, of snow-white colour, and still others with a layer of common salt, equally white and pure. Many of these salt and soda "prairies"--as the trappers term them--are hundreds of square miles in extent. Again, there are deserts of scoria, of lava, and pumice-stone,--the "cut-rock prairies" of the trappers,--a perfect contrast in colour to the above mentioned. All these are absolutely without vegetation of any sort. On some of the wastes--those of southern latitudes,--the cactus appears of several species, and also the wild agave, or "pita" plant; but these plants are in reality but emblems of the desert itself. So, also, is the _yucca_, which thinly stands over many of the great plains, in the south-western part of the desert region,--its stiff, shaggy foliage in no way relieving the sterile landscape, but rather rendering its aspect more horrid and austere. Again, there are the deserts known as "chapparals,"--extensive jungles of brush and low trees, all of a thorny character; among which the "mezquite" of several species (_mimosas_ and _acacias_), the "stink-wood" or _creosote plant_ (_kaeberlinia_), the "grease-bush" (_obione canescens_), several kinds of _prosopis_, and now and then, as if to gratify the eye of the tired traveller, the tall flowering spike of the scarlet _fouquiera_. Further to the north--especially throughout the upper section of the Great Salt Lake territory--are vast tracts, upon which scarce any vegetation appears, except the _artemisia_ plant, and other kindred products of a sterile soil. Of all the desert tracts upon the North-American continent, perhaps none possesses greater interest for the student of cosmography than that known as the "Great Basin." It has been so styled from the fact of its possessing a hydrographic system of its own,--lakes and rivers that have no communication with the sea; but whose waters spend themselves within the limits of the desert itself, and are kept in equilibrium by evaporation,--as is the case with many water systems of the continents of the Old World, both in Asia and Africa. The largest lake of the "Basin" is the "Great Salt Lake,"--of late so celebrated in Mormon story: since near its southern shore the chief city of the "Latter-day Saints" is situated. But there are other large lakes within the limits of the Great Basin, both fresh and saline,--most of them entirely unconnected with the Great Salt Lake, and some of them having a complete system of waters of their own. There are "Utah" and "Humboldt," "Walker's" and "Pyramid" lakes, with a long list of others, whose names have been but recently entered upon the map, by the numerous very intelligent explorers employed by the government of the United States. Large rivers, too, run in all directions through this central desert, some of them falling into the Great Salt Lake, as the "Bear" river, the "Weber," the "Utah," from Utah Lake,--upon which the Mormon metropolis stands,--and which stream has been absurdly baptised by these free-living fanatics as the "Jordan?" Other rivers are the "Timpanogos," emptying into Lake Utah; the "Humboldt," that runs to the lake of that name; the "Carson" river; besides many of lesser note. The limits assigned to the Great Basin are tolerably well-defined. Its western rim is the _Sierra Nevada_, or "snowy range" of California; while the Rocky and Wahsatch mountains are its boundaries on the east. Several cross-ranges, and spurs of ranges, separate it from the system of waters that empty northward into the Columbia River of Oregon; while upon its southern edge there is a more indefinite "divide" between it and the great desert region of the western "Colorado." Strictly speaking, the desert of the Great Basin might be regarded as only a portion of that vast tract of sterile, and almost treeless soil, which stretches from the Mexican state of Sonora to the upper waters of Oregon; but the deserts of the Colorado on the south, and those of the "forks" of the Columbia on the north, are generally treated as distinct territories; and the Great Basin, with the limits already assigned, is suffered to stand by itself. As a separate country, then, we shall here consider it. From its name, you might fancy that the Great Basin was a low-lying tract of country. This, however, is far from being the case. On the contrary, nearly all of it is of the nature of an elevated tableland, even its lakes lying several thousand feet above the level of the sea. It is only by its "rim," of still more elevated mountain ridges, that it can lay claim to be considered as a "basin;" but, indeed, the name-- given by the somewhat speculative explorer, Fremont--is not very appropriate, since later investigations show that this rim is in many places neither definite nor regular,--especially on its northern and southern sides, where the "Great Basin" may be said to be badly cracked, and even to have some pieces chipped out of its edge. Besides the mountain chains that surround it, many others run into and intersect it in all directions. Some are spurs of the main ranges; while others form "sierras"--as the Spaniards term them--distinct in themselves. These sierras are of all shapes and of every altitude,-- from the low-lying ridge scarce rising above the plain, to peaks and summits of over ten thousand feet in elevation. Their forms are as varied as their height. Some are round or dome-shaped; others shoot up little turrets or "needles;" and still others mount into the sky in shapeless masses,--as if they had been flung upon the earth, and upon one another, in some struggle of Titans, who have left them lying in chaotic confusion. A very singular mountain form is here observed,-- though it is not peculiar to this region, since it is found elsewhere, beyond the limits of the Great Basin, and is also common in many parts of Africa. This is the formation known among the Spaniards as _mesas_, or "table-mountains," and by this very name it is distinguished among the colonists of the Cape. The _Llano estacado_, already mentioned, is often styled a "mesa," but its elevation is inconsiderable when compared with the _mesa_ mountains that occur in the regions west of the great Rocky chain,--both in the Basin and on the deserts of the Colorado. Many of these are of great height,--rising several thousand feet above the general level; and, with their square truncated _table-like_ tops, lend a peculiar character to the landscape. The characteristic vegetation of the Great Basin is very similar to that of the other central regions of the North-American continent. Only near the banks of the rivers and some of the fresh-water lakes, is there any evidence of a fertile soil; and even in these situations the timber is usually scarce and stunted. Of course, there are tracts that are exceptional,--oases, as they are geographically styled. Of this character is the country of the Mormons on the Jordan, their settlements on the Utah and Bear Rivers, in Tuilla and Ogden valleys, and elsewhere at more remote points. There are also isolated tracts on the banks of the smaller streams and the shores of lakes not yet "located" by the colonist; and only frequented by the original dwellers of the desert, the red aborigines. In these oases are usually found cottonwood-trees, of several distinct species,--one or other of which is the characteristic, vegetation on nearly every stream from the Mississippi to the mountains of California. Willows of many species also appear; and now and then, in stunted forms, the oak, the elm, maples, and sycamores. But all these last are very rarely encountered within the limits of the desert region. On the mountains, and more frequently in the mountain ravines pines of many species--some of which produce edible cones--grow in such numbers as to merit the name of forests, of greater or less extent. Among these, or apart from them, may be distinguished the darker foliage of the cedar (_Juniperus_) of several varieties, distinct from the _juniperus virginiana_ of the States. The arid plains are generally without the semblance of vegetation. When any appears upon them, it is of the character of the "chapparal," already described; its principal growth being "tornilla," or "screw-wood," and other varieties of _mezquite_; all of them species of the extensive order of the _leguminosae_, and belonging to the several genera of _acacias_, _mimosas_, and _robinias_. In many places _cactacae_ appear of an endless variety of forms; and some,--as the "pitahaya" (_cereus giganteus_), and the "tree" and "cochineal" cacti (_opuntias_),--of gigantesque proportions. These, however, are only developed to their full size in the regions further south,--on the deserts of the Colorado and Gila,--where also the "tree yuccas" abound, covering tracts of large extent, and presenting the appearance of forests of palms. Perhaps the most characteristic vegetation of the Great Basin--that is, if it deserve the name of a vegetation--is the wild sage, or _artemisia_. With this plant vast plains are covered, as far as the eye can reach; not presenting a hue of green, as the grass prairies do, but a uniform aspect of greyish white, as monotonous as if the earth were without a leaf to cover it. Instead of relieving the eye of the traveller, the artemisia rather adds to the dreariness of a desert landscape,--for its presence promises food neither to man nor horse, nor water for them to drink, but indicates the absence of both. Upon the hill-sides also is it seen, along the sloping declivities of the sierras, marbling the dark volcanic rocks with its hoary frondage. More than one species of this wild sage occurs throughout the American desert: there are four or five kinds, differing very considerably from each other, and known to the trappers by such names as "wormwood," "grease-bush," "stink-plant," and "rabbit-bush." Some of the species attain to a considerable height,--their tops often rising above the head of the traveller on horseback,--while another kind scarce reaches the knee of the pedestrian. In some places the plains are so thickly covered with this vegetation, that it is difficult for either man or horse to make way through them,-- the gnarled and crooked branches twisting into each other and forming an impenetrable wattle. At other places, and especially where the larger species grow, the plants stand apart like apple-trees in an orchard, and bear a considerable resemblance to shrubs or small trees. Both man and horse refuse the artemisia as food; and so, too, the less fastidious mule. Even a donkey will not eat it. There are animals, however,--both birds and beasts, as will be seen hereafter,--that relish the sage-plant; and not only eat of it, but subsist almost exclusively on its stalks, leaves, and berries. The denizens of the Great Basin desert--I mean its human denizens--are comprehended in two great families of the aboriginal race,--the _Utahs_ and _Snakes_, or _Shoshonees_. Of the white inhabitants--the Mormons and trap-settlers--we have nothing to say here. Nor yet much respecting the above-mentioned Indians, the Utahs and Snakes. It will be enough for our purpose to make known that these two tribes are distinct from each other,--that there are many communities or sub-tribes of both,-- that each claims ownership of a large tract of the central region, lying between the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada; and that their limits are not coterminal with those of the Great Basin: since the range of the Snakes extends into Oregon upon the north, while that of the Utahs runs down into the valley of the Rio del Norte upon the south. Furthermore, that both are in possession of the horse,--the Utahs owning large numbers,--that both are of roving and predatory habits, and quite as wicked and warlike as the generality of their red brethren. They are also as well to do in the world as most Indians; but there are many degrees in their "civilisation," or rather in the comforts of their life, depending upon the situation in which they may be placed. When dwelling upon a good "salmon-stream," or among the rocky mountain "parks," that abound in game, they manage to pass a portion of the year in luxuriant abundance. In other places, however, and at other times, their existence is irksome enough,--often bordering upon actual starvation. It may be further observed, that the Utahs and Snakes usually occupy the larger and more fertile oases of the desert,--wherever a tract is found of sufficient size to subsist a community. With this observation I shall dismiss both these tribes; for it is not of them that our present sketch is intended to treat. This is specially designed for a far _odder_ people than either,--for the _Yamparicos_, or "Root-diggers;" and having described their country, I shall now proceed to give some account of themselves. It may be necessary here to remark that the name "Diggers," has of late been very improperly applied,--not only by the settlers of California, but by some of the exploring officers of the United States government. Every tribe or community throughout the desert, found existing in a state of special wretchedness, has been so styled; and a learned ethnologist (!), writing in the "Examiner," newspaper, gravely explains the name, by deriving it from the gold-diggers of California! This "conceit" of the London editor is a palpable absurdity,--since the Digger Indians were so designated, long before the first gold-digger of California put spade into its soil. The name is of "trapper" origin; bestowed upon these people from the observation of one of their most common practices,--viz, the _digging for roots_, which form an essential portion of their subsistence. The term "yamparico," is from a Spanish source, and has a very similar meaning to that of "Root-digger." It is literally "Yampa-rooter," or "Yampa-root eater," the root of the "yampa" (_anethum graviolens_) being their favourite food. The true "Diggers" are not found in California west of the Sierra Nevada; though certain tribes of ill-used Indians in that quarter are called by the name. The great deserts extending between the Nevada and the Rocky Mountains are their locality; and their limits are more or less cotemporaneous with those of the Shoshonees or Snakes, and the Utahs,--of both of which tribes they are supposed to be a sort of outcast kindred. This hypothesis, however, rests only on a slight foundation: that of some resemblance in habits and language, which are very uncertain _criteria_ where two people dwell within the same boundaries,--as, for instance, the whites and blacks in Virginia. In fact, the language of the Diggers can scarce be called a language at all: being a sort of gibberish like the growling of a dog, eked out by a copious vocabulary of signs: and perhaps, here and there, by an odd word from the Shoshonee or Utah,--not unlikely, introduced by the association of the Diggers with these last-mentioned tribes. In the western and southern division of the Great Basin, the Digger exists under the name of _Paiute_, or more properly, _Pah-Utah_,-- so-called from his supposed relationship with the tribe of the Utahs. In some respects the Pah-Utahs differ from the Shoshokee, or Snake-Diggers; though in most of their characteristic habits they are very similar to each other. There might be no anomaly committed by considering them as one people; for in personal appearance and habits of life the Pah-Utah, and the "Shoshokee"--this last is the national appellation of the yampa-eater,--are as like each other as _eggs_. We shall here speak however, principally of the Shoshokees: leaving it to be understood, that their neighbours the "Paiutes" will equally answer the description. Although the Shoshokees, as already observed, dwell within the same limits as their supposed kindred the Shoshonees, they rarely or never associate with the latter. On the contrary, they keep well out of their way,--inhabiting only those districts of country where the larger Shoshonee communities could not dwell. The very smallest oasis, or the tiniest stream, affords all the fertility that is required for the support of a Digger family; and rarely are these people found living more than one, or at most, two or three families together. The very necessity of their circumstances precludes the possibility of a more extensive association; for on the deserts where they dwell, neither the earth nor the air, nor yet the water, affords a sufficient supply of food to support even the smallest "tribe." Not in tribes, then, but in single families, or little groups of two or three, do the Digger Indians dwell,--not in the larger and more fertile valleys, but in those small and secluded; in the midst of the sage-plains, or more frequently in the rocky defiles of the mountains that stand thickly over the "Basin." The Shoshokee is no _nomade_, but the very reverse. A single and isolated mountain is often the abode of his group or family; and beyond this his wanderings extend not. There he is at home, knowing every nook and rat-hole in his own neighbourhood; but as ignorant of the world beyond as the "sand-rats" themselves,--whose pursuit occupies the greater portion of his time. In respect to his "settled" mode of life, the _Shoshokee_ offers a striking contrast to the _Shoshonee_. Many of the latter are Indians of noble type,--warriors who have tamed the horse, and who extend their incursions, both hunting and hostile, into the very heart of the Rocky Mountains,--up their fertile valleys, and across their splendid "parks," often bringing back with them the scalps of the savage and redoubtable Blackfeet. Far different is the character of the wretched Shoshokee,--the mere semblance of a human being,--who rarely strays out of the ravine in which he was brought forth; and who, at sight of a human face--be it of friend or enemy--flies to his crag or cave like a hunted beast! The Pah-Utah Diggers, however, are of a more warlike disposition; or rather a more wicked and hostile one,--hostile to whites, or even to such other Indians as may have occasion to travel through the deserts they inhabit. These people are found scattered throughout the whole southern and south-western portion of the Great Basin,--and also in the north-western part of the Colorado desert,--especially about the Sevier River, and on several of the tributaries of the great Colorado itself of the west It was through this part of the country that the caravans from California to New Mexico used to make their annual "trips,"--long before Alta Calafornia became a possession of the United States,--and the route by which they travelled is known as the _Spanish trail_. The object of these caravans was the import of horses, mules, and other animals,--from the fertile valleys of the San Joaquin and Sacramento rivers, to the more sterile settlements of New Mexico. Several kinds of goods were also carried into these interior countries. This Spanish trail was far from running in a direct line. The sandy, waterless plain--known more particularly as the Colorado desert--could not be crossed with safety, and the caravan-route was forced far to the north; and entered within the limits of the Great Basin--thus bringing it through the county inhabited by the Pah-Utah Diggers. The consequence was, that these savages looked out annually for its arrival; and, whenever an opportunity offered, stole the animals that accompanied it, or murdered any of the men who might be found straggling from the main body. When bent on such purposes, these Diggers for a time threw aside their solitary habits,--assembling in large bands of several hundred each, and following the caravan travellers, like wolves upon the track of a gang of buffaloes. They never made their attacks upon the main body, or when the white men were in any considerable force. Only small groups who had lagged behind, or gone too rashly in advance, had to fear from these merciless marauders,--who never thought of such a thing as making captives, but murdered indiscriminately all who fell into their hands. When horses or mules were captured, it was never done with the intention of keeping them to ride upon. Scarcely ever do the Pah-Utahs make such a use of the horse. Only for food were these stolen or plundered from their owners; and when a booty of this kind was obtained, the animals were driven to some remote defile among the mountains, and there slaughtered outright. So long as a morsel of horse or mule flesh remained upon the bones, the Diggers kept up a scene of feasting and merriment--precisely similar to the _carnivals_ of the African Bushmen, after a successful foray upon the cattle of the Dutch settlers near the Cape. Indeed there is such a very striking resemblance between the Bushmen of Africa and these Digger Indians of North America; that, were it not for the distinction of race, and some slight differences in personal appearance, they might pass as one people. In nearly every habit and custom, the two people resemble each other; and in many mental characteristics they appear truly identical. The Pah-Utah Diggers have not yet laid aside their hostile and predatory habits. They are at the present hour engaged in plundering forays,-- acting towards the emigrant trains of Californian adventurers just as they did towards the Spanish caravans. But they usually meet with a very different reception from the more daring Saxon travellers, who constitute the "trains" now crossing their country; and not unfrequently a terrible punishment is the reward of their audacity. For all that, many of the emigrants, who have been so imprudent as to travel in small parties, have suffered at their hands, losing not only their property, but their lives; since hundreds of the bravest men have fallen by the arrows of these insignificant savages! Even the exploring parties of the United States government, accompanied by troops, have been attacked by them; and more than one officer has fallen a victim to their Ishmaelitish propensities. It is not in open warfare that there is any dread of them. The smallest party of whites need not fear to encounter a hundred of them at once; but their attacks are made by stealth, and under cover of the night; and, as soon as they have succeeded in separating the horses or other animals from the travellers' camp, they drive them off so adroitly that pursuit is impossible. Whenever a grand blow has been struck--that is, a traveller has been murdered--they all disappear as if by magic; and for several days after not one is to be seen, upon whom revenge might be taken. The numerous "smokes," rising up out of the rocky defiles of the mountains, are then the only evidence that human beings are in the neighbourhood of the travellers' camp. The Digger is different from other North-American Indians,--both in physical organisation and intellectual character. So low is he in the scale of both, as to dispute with the African Bushman, the Andaman Islander, and the starving savage of Tierra del Fuego, the claim to that point in the transition, which is supposed to separate the monkey from the man. It has been variously awarded by ethnologists, and I as one have had my doubts, as to which of the three is deserving of the distinction. Upon mature consideration, however, I have come to the conclusion that the Digger is entitled to it. This miserable creature is of a dark-brown or copper colour,--the hue so generally known as characteristic of the American aborigines. He stands about five feet in height,--often under but rarely over this standard,-- and his body is thin and meagre, resembling that of a frog stretched upon a fish-hook. The skin that covers it--especially that of an old Digger--is wrinkled and corrugated like the hide of an Asiatic rhinoceros,--with a surface as dry as parched buck-skin. His feet, turned in at the toes,--as with all the aborigines of America,--have some resemblance to human feet; but in the legs this resemblance ends. The lower limbs are almost destitute of calves, and the knee-pans are of immense size,--resembling a pair of pads or callosities, like those upon goats and antelopes. The face is broad and angular, with high cheek-bones; the eyes small, black, and sunken, and sparkle in their hollow sockets, not with true intelligence, but that sort of vivacity which may often be observed in the lower animals, especially in several species of monkeys. Throughout the whole physical composition of the Digger, there is only one thing that appears luxuriant,--and that is his hair. Like all Indians he is amply endowed in this respect, and long, black tresses--sometimes embrowned by the sun, and matted together with mud or other filth--hang over his naked shoulders. Generally he crops them. In the summer months, the Digger's costume is extremely simple,--after the fashion of that worn by our common parents, Adam and Eve. In winter, however, the climate of his desert home is rigorous in the extreme,--the mountains over his head, and the plains under his feet, being often covered with snow. At this season he requires a garment to shelter his body from the piercing blast; and this he obtains by stitching together a few skins of the sage-hare, so as to form a kind of shirt or body-coat. He is not always rich enough to have even a good coat of this simple material; and its scanty skirt too often exposes his wrinkled limbs to the biting frost. Between the Digger and his wife, or "squaw," there is not much difference either in costume or character. The latter may be distinguished, by being of less stature, rather than by any feminine graces in her physical or intellectual conformation. She might be recognised, too, by watching the employment of the family; for it is she who does nearly all the work, stitches the rabbit-skin shirt, digs the "yampa" and "kamas" roots, gathers the "mezquite" pods, and gets together the larder of "prairie crickets." Though lowest of all American Indians in the scale of civilisation, the Digger resembles them all in this,--he regards himself as lord and master, and the woman as his slave. As already observed, there is no such thing as a tribe of Diggers,-- nothing of the nature of a political organisation; and the chief of their miserable little community--for sometimes there is a head man--is only he who is most regarded for his strength. Indeed, the nature of their country would not admit of a large number of them living together. The little valleys or "oases"--that occur at intervals along the banks of some lone desert stream,--would not, any one of them, furnish subsistence to more than a few individuals,--especially to savages ignorant of agriculture,--that is, not knowing how to _plant_ or _sow_. The Diggers, however, if they know not how to _sow_, may be said to understand something about how to _reap_, since _root-digging_ is one of their most essential employments,--that occupation from which they have obtained their distinctive appellation, in the language of the trappers. Not being agriculturists, you will naturally conclude that they are either a pastoral people, or else a nation of hunters. But in truth they are neither one nor the other. They have no domestic animal,--many of them not even the universal dog; and as to hunting, there is no large game in their country. The buffalo does not range so far west; and if he did, it is not likely they could either kill or capture so formidable a creature; while the prong-horned antelope, which does inhabit their plains, is altogether too swift a creature, to be taken by any wiles a Digger might invent. The "big-horn," and the black and white-tailed species of deer, are also too shy and too fleet for their puny weapons; and as to the grizzly bear, the very sight of one is enough to give a Digger Indian the "chills." If, then, they do not cultivate the ground, nor rear some kind of animals, nor yet live by the chase, how do these people manage to obtain subsistence? The answer to this question appears a dilemma,--since it has been already stated, that their country produces little else than the wild and worthless sage plant. Were we speaking of an Indian of tropical America, or a native of the lovely islands of the great South Sea, there would be no difficulty whatever in accounting for his subsistence,--even though he neither planted nor sowed, tended cattle, nor yet followed the chase. In these regions of luxuriant vegetation, nature has been bountiful to her children; and, it may be almost literally alleged that the loaf of bread grows spontaneously on the tree. But the very reverse is the case in the country of the Digger Indian. Even the hand of cultivation could scarce wring a crop from the sterile soil; and Nature has provided hardly one article that deserves the name of food. Perhaps you may fancy that the Digger is a fisherman; and obtains his living from the stream, by the side of which he makes his dwelling. Not even this is permitted to him. It is true that his supposed kindred, the Shoshonees, occasionally follow the occupation of fishermen upon the banks of the Great Snake River,--which at certain seasons of the year swarms with the finest salmon; but the poor Digger has no share in the finny spoil. The streams, that traverse his desert home, empty their waters into the briny bosom of the Great Salt Lake,--a true _Dead Sea_, where neither salmon, nor any other fish could live for an instant. How then does the Digger obtain his food? Is he a manufacturer,--and perforce a merchant,--who exchanges with some other tribe his manufactured goods for provisions and "raw material?" Nothing of the sort. Least of all is he a manufacturer. The hare-skin shirt is his highest effort in the line of textile fabrics; and his poor weak bow, and flint-tipped arrows, are the only tools he is capable of making. Sometimes he is even without these weapons; and may be seen with another,--a long stick, with a hook at one end,--the hook itself being the stump of a lopped branch, with its natural inclination to that which forms the stick. The object and purpose of this simple weapon we shall presently describe. The Digger's wife may be seen with a weapon equally simple in its construction. This is also a stick--but a much shorter one--pointed at one end, and bearing some resemblance to a gardener's "dibble." Sometimes it is tipped with horn,--when this can be procured,--but otherwise the hard point is produced by calcining it in the fire. This tool is essentially an implement of husbandry,--as will presently appear. Let us now clear up the mystery, and explain how the Digger maintains himself. There is not much mystery after all. Although, as already stated, his country produces nothing that could fairly be termed _food_, yet there are a few articles within his reach upon which a human being _might_ subsist,--that is, might just keep body and soul together. One of these articles is the bean, or legume of the "mezquite" tree, of which there are many kinds throughout the desert region. They are known to Spanish Americans as _algarobia_ trees; and, in the southern parts of the desert, grow to a considerable size,--often attaining the dimension of twenty to twenty-five feet in height. They produce a large legume, filled with seeds and a pulp of sweetish-acid taste,--similar to that of the "honey-locust." These beans are collected in large quantities, by the squaw of the Digger, stowed away in grass-woven baskets, or sometimes only in heaps in a corner of his cave, or hovel, if he chance to have one. If so, it is a mere wattle of artemisia, thatched and "chinked" with grass. The mezquite seeds, then, are the _bread_ of the Digger; but, bad as is the quality, the supply is often far behind the demands of his hungry stomach. For vegetables, he has the "yampa" root, an umbelliferous plant, which grows along the banks of the streams. This, with another kind, known as "kamas" or "quamash" (_Camassia esculenta_), is a spontaneous production; and the digging for these roots forms, at a certain season of the year, the principal occupation of the women. The "dibble-like" instrument already described is the _root-digger_. The roots here mentioned, before being eaten, have to undergo a process of cooking. The yampa is boiled in a very ingenious manner; but this piece of ingenuity is not native to the Shoshokees, and has been obtained from their more clever kindred, the Snakes. The pot is a _wooden one_; and yet they can boil meat in it, or make soup if they wish! Moreover, it is only a basket, a mere vessel of wicker-work! How, then, can water be boiled in it? If you had not been already told how it is done, it would no doubt puzzle you to find out. But most likely you have read of a somewhat similar vessel among the Chippewa Indians,--especially the tribe known as the "Assineboins," or stone boilers--who cook their fish or flesh in pots made of birch-bark. The phrase _stone boilers_ will suggest to you how the difficulty is got over. The birch-bark pot is not set over fire; but stones are heated and thrown into it,--of course already filled with water. The hot stones soon cause the water to simmer, and fresh ones are added until it boils, and the meat is sufficiently cooked. By just such a process the "Snakes" cook their salmon and deer's flesh,--their wicker pots being woven of so close a texture that not even water can pass through the interstices. It is not often, however, that, the Digger is rich enough to have one of these wicker pots,--and when he has, he is often without anything to put into it. The _kamas_ roots are usually baked in a hole dug in the earth, and heated by stones taken from the fire. It requires nearly two days to bake them properly; and then, when taken out of the "oven," the mass bears a strong resemblance to soft glue or size, and has a sweet and rather agreeable taste,--likened to that of baked pears or quinces. I have not yet specified the whole of the Digger's larder. Were he to depend altogether on the roots and seeds already mentioned, he would often have to starve,--and in reality he often _does_ starve,--for, even with the additional supplies which his sterile soil scantily furnishes him, he is frequently the victim of famine. There may be a bad season of the mezquite-crop, and the bears--who are as cunning "diggers" as he--sometimes destroy his "plantations" of yampa and kamas. He finds a resource, however, in the prairie cricket, an insect--or reptile, you may call it--of the _gryllus_ tribe, of a dark-brown colour, and more like a bug than any other crawler. These, at certain seasons of the year, make their appearance upon the desert plains, and in such numbers that the ground appears to be alive with them. An allied species has of late years become celebrated: on account of a visit paid by vast numbers of them to the Mormon plantations; where, as may be remembered, they devastated the crops,--just as the locusts do in Africa,--causing a very severe season of famine among these isolated people. It may be remembered also, that flocks of white birds followed the movements of these American locusts,--preying upon them, and thinning their multitudinous hosts. These birds were of the gull genus (_Larus_), and one of the most beautiful of the species. They frequent the shores and islands of the rivers of _Prairie-land_, living chiefly upon such insects as are found in the neighbourhood of their waters. It was but natural, therefore, they should follow the locusts, or "grasshoppers," as the Mormons termed them; but the _pseudo-prophet_ of these deluded people could not suffer to pass such a fine opportunity of proving his divine inspiration: which he did by audaciously declaring that the birds were "heaven-born," and had been sent by the Almighty (in obedience to a prayer from him, the prophet) to rid the country of the pest of the grasshoppers! These prairie crickets are of a dark-brown colour,--not unlike the _gryllus migratorius_ of Africa, and with very similar habits. When settled thickly upon the ground, the whole surface assumes a darkish hue, as if covered with crape; and when they are all in motion,-- creeping to and fro in search of their food,--a very singular effect is produced. At this time they do not take to wing; though they attempt to get out of the way, by making short hops from place to place, and crawling with great rapidity. Notwithstanding their efforts to escape, hundreds of them are "squashed" beneath the foot of the pedestrian, or hoofs of the traveller's horse. These crickets, with several bug-like insects of different species, furnish the Digger with an important article of food. It may appear a strange provender for a human stomach; but there is nothing unnatural about it,--any more than about the eating of shrimps or prawns; and it will be remembered that the Bushmen, and many other tribes of South Africa eat the _gryllus migratorius_; while, in the northern part of that same continent, many nations regard them as a proper article of food. Though some writers have asserted, that it was the legume of the locust-tree (an acacia) which was eaten by Saint John the Baptist in the wilderness, it is easily proved that such was not the case. That his food was the locust (_gryllus migratorius_) and wild honey, is strictly and literally true; and at the present day, were you to visit the "wilderness" mentioned by the Apostle, you might see people living upon "locusts and wild honey," just as they did eighteen hundred years ago. The Diggers _cook_ their crickets sometimes by boiling them in the pots aforementioned, and sometimes by "roasting." They also mix them with the mezquite seeds and pulp,--the whole forming a kind of plum-pudding, or "cricket-pasty,"--or, as it is jocosely termed by the trappers, "cricket-cake." Their mode of collecting the grasshoppers is not without some display of ingenuity. When the insects are in abundance, there is not much difficulty in obtaining a sufficient supply; but this is not always the case. Sometimes they appear very sparsely upon the plains; and, being nimble in their movements, are not easily laid hold of. Only one could be taken at a time; and, by gleaning in this way, a very limited supply would be obtained. To remedy this, the Diggers have invented a somewhat ingenious contrivance for capturing them wholesale,--which is effected in the following manner:--When the whereabouts of the grasshoppers has been discovered, a round hole--of three or four feet in diameter, and of about equal depth--is scooped out in the centre of the plain. It is shaped somewhat after the fashion of a kiln; and the earth, that has been taken out, is carried out of the way. The Digger community then all turn out--men, women, and children--and deploy themselves into a wide circle, enclosing as large a tract as their numbers will permit. Each individual is armed with a stick, with which he beats the sage-bushes, and makes other violent demonstrations: the object being to frighten the grasshoppers, and cause them to move inward towards the pit that has been dug. The insects, thus beset, move as directed,--gradually approaching the centre,--while the "beaters" follow in a circle constantly lessening in circumference. After a time the crickets, before only thinly scattered over the plain,--grow more crowded as the space becomes contracted; until at length the surface is covered with a black moving swarm; and the beaters, still pressing upon them, and driving them onward, force the whole body pellmell over the edges of the pit. Bunches of grass, already provided are now flung over them, and upon that a few shovelfuls of earth or sand; and then--horrible to relate!--a large pile of artemisia stalks is heaped upon the top and set on fire! The result is that, in a few minutes, the poor grasshoppers are smoked to death, and parched at the same time--so as to be ready for eating, whenever the _debris_ of the fire has been removed. The prairie cricket is not the only article of the _flesh-meat_ kind, found in the larder of the Digger. Another animal furnishes him with an occasional meal. This is the "sage-hare," known to hunters as the "sage-rabbit," but to naturalists as the _lepus artemisia_. It is a very small animal,--less in size than the common rabbit,--though it is in reality a true hare. It is of a silvery, or whitish-grey colour-- which adapts it to the hue of the _artemisia_ bushes on the stalks and berries of which it feeds. It is from the skins of this animal, that the Digger women manufacture the rabbit-skin shirts, already described. Its flesh would not be very agreeable to a European palate,--even with the addition of an onion,-- for it has the sage flavour to such a degree, as to be as bitter as wormwood itself. An onion with it would not be tasted! But tastes differ, and by the Digger the flesh of the sage-hare is esteemed one of the nicest delicacies. He hunts it, therefore, with the greatest assiduity; and the chase of this insignificant animal is to the Digger, what the hunt of the stag, the elephant, or the wild boar, is to hunters of a more pretentious ambition. With his bow and arrows he frequently succeeds in killing a single hare; but this is not always so easy,--since the sage-hare, like all of its kind, is shy, swift, and cunning. Its colour, closely resembling the hue of the artemisia foliage, is a considerable protection to it; and it can hide among these bushes, where they grow thickly--as they generally do--over the surface of the ground. But the Digger is not satisfied with the scanty and uncertain supply, which his weak bow and arrows would enable him to obtain. As in the case of the grasshoppers, he has contrived a plan for capturing the sage-hares by wholesale. This he accomplishes by making a "surround," and driving the animals, not into a _pit_, but into a _pound_. The pound is constructed something after the same fashion as that used by the Chippewas, and other northern Indians, for capturing the herds of reindeer; in other words, it is an enclosure, entered by a narrow mouth--from the _jaws_ of which mouth, two fences are carried far out into the plain, in a gradually diverging direction. For the deer and other large animals, the fences of the pound--as also those of the funnel that conducts to it, require to be made of strong stakes, stockaded side by side; but this work, as well as the timber with which to construct it, is far beyond the reach of the Digger. His enclosure consists of a mere wattle of artemisia stalks and branches, woven into a row of those already standing--with here and there a patching of rude nets, made of roots and grass. The height is not over three feet; and the sage-hare might easily spring over it; but the stupid creature, when once "in the pound," never thinks of looking upward; but continues to dash its little skull against the wattle, until it is either "clubbed" by the Digger, or impaled upon one of his obsidian arrows. Other quadrupeds, constituting a portion of the Digger's food, are several species of "gophers," or sand-rats, ground-squirrels, and marmots. In many parts of the Great Basin, the small rodents abound: dwelling between the crevices of rocks, or honeycombing the dry plains with their countless burrows. The Digger captures them by various wiles. One method is by shooting them with blunt arrows; but the more successful plan is, by setting a trap at the entrance to their earthen caves. It is the "figure of 4 trap," which the Digger employs for this purpose, and which he constructs with ingenuity,--placing a great many around a "warren," and often taking as many as fifty or sixty "rats" in a single day! In weather too cold for the gophers to come out of their caves, the Digger then "digs" for them: thus further entitling him to his special appellation. That magnificent bird, the "cock of the plains," sometimes furnishes the Digger with "fowl" for his dinner. This is a bird of the grouse family (_tetrao urophasianus_), and the largest species that is known,-- exceeding in size the famed "cock of the woods" of northern Europe. A full-fledged cock of the plains is as large as an eagle; and, unlike most of the grouse kind, has a long, narrow body. His plumage is of a silvery grey colour--produced by a mottle of black and white,--no doubt, given him by a nature to assimilate him to the hue of the artemisia,-- amidst which he habitually dwells, and the berries of which furnish him with most of his food. He is remarkable for two large _goitre-like_ swellings on the breast, covered with a sort of hair instead of feathers; but, though a fine-looking large bird, and a grouse too, his flesh is bitter and unpalatable--even more so than that of the sage-hare. For all that, it is a delicacy to the Digger, and a rare one; for the cock of the plains is neither plentiful, nor easily captured when seen. There are several other small animals--both quadrupeds and birds-- inhabiting Digger-land, upon which an occasional meal is made. Indeed, the food of the Digger is sufficiently varied. It is not in the quality but the quantity he finds most cause of complaint: for with all his energies he never gets enough. In the summer season, however, he is less stinted. Then the berries of the buffalo-bush are ripe; and these, resembling currants, he collects in large quantities,--placing his rabbit-skin wrapper under the bush, and shaking down the ripe fruit in showers. A _melange_ of prairie crickets and buffalo-berries is esteemed by the Digger, as much as would be the best specimen of a "currant-cake" in any nursery in Christendom! The Digger finds a very curious species of edible bug, which builds its nest on the ledges of the cliffs,--especially those that overhang a stream. These nests are of a conical or pine-apple shape, and about the size of this fruit. This bug,--not yet classified or described by entomologists,--is of a dark-brown colour, about the size of the ordinary cockroach; and when boiled is considered a proper article of food,--not only by the unfastidious Diggers, but by Indians of a more epicurean _gout_. Besides the yampa and kamas, there are several other edible roots found in the Digger country. Among others may be mentioned a species of thistle (_circium virginiarum_),--the root of which grows to the size of an ordinary carrot, and is almost as well flavoured. It requires a great deal of roasting, or boiling, before it is sufficiently cooked to be eaten. The _kooyah_ is another article of food still more popular among Digger gourmands. This is the root of the _Valeriana edulis_. It is of a bright-yellow colour, and grows to a considerable size. It has the characteristic odour of the well-known plant; but not so strong as in the prepared substance of _valerian_. The plant itself does not grow in the arid soil of the desert, but rather in the rich fertile bottoms of the streams, or along the shores of marshy lakes,--in company with the kamas and yampa. It is when these roots are in season, that the Shoshokees most frequent such localities; and, indeed, this same season is the time when all other articles of Digger food are plenteous enough,--the summer. The winter months are to him the "tight times." In some parts of the desert country, as already observed, grow species of pines, with edible cones,--or rather edible seeds which the cones contain. These seeds resemble nuts, and are about the size of the common filberts. More than one species of pine produces this sort of food; but in the language of the Spanish Californians and New Mexicans, they are all indifferently termed _pinon_, and the seeds simply _pinones_, or "pinons." Where these are within the reach of the Digger,--as they are in some districts,--he is then well provided for; since the pinons, when roasted, not only form an agreeable and nutritious article of food, but can be stored up as a winter stock,--that will keep for a considerable time, without danger of spoiling, or growing too stale. Such is the _commissariat_ of the Digger Indian; and, poor in quality though it be, there are times when he cannot obtain a sufficient supply of it. At such times he has recourse to food of a still meaner kind,-- to roots, scarce eatable, and even to the seeds of several species of grass! Worms, grubs, the _agama comuta_, or "horned-frog of the prairies," with other species of lizards, become his sole resource; and in the search and capture of these he occupies himself from morning to night. It is in this employment that he finds use for the long sapling, with the hooked end upon it,--the hook being used for dragging the lizards out of clefts in the rocks, within which they have sought shelter. In the accomplishment of this, the Digger displays an adroitness that astonishes the traveller: often "jerking" the reptile out of some dark crevice within which it might be supposed to have found a retreat secure from all intruders. Many other curious habits might be related of this abject and miserable race of human beings; but perhaps enough has been detailed, to secure them a place in the list of our "odd people." CHAPTER FOURTEEN. THE GUARAONS, OR PALM-DWELLERS. Young reader, I may take it for granted that you have heard of the great river Orinoco,--one of the largest rivers not only of South America, but in the world. By entering at its mouth, and ascending to its source, you would have to make a journey of about one thousand five hundred miles; but this journey, so far from being direct, or in a straight line, would carry you in a kind of spiral curve,--very much like the figure 6, the apex of the figure representing the mouth of the river. In other words, the Orinoco, rising in the unexplored mountains of Spanish Guiana, first runs eastward; and then, having turned gradually to every point of the compass, resumes its easterly course, continuing in this direction till it empties its mighty flood into the Atlantic Ocean. Not by one mouth, however. On the contrary, long before the Orinoco approaches the sea, its channel separates into a great many branches (or "canos," as they are called in the language of the country), each of which, slowly meandering in its own course, reaches the coast by a separate mouth, or "boca." Of these canos there are about fifty, embracing within their ramifications a "delta" nearly half as large as England! Though they have all been distinguished by separate names, only three or four of them are navigable by ships of any considerable size; and, except to the few pilots whose duty it is to conduct vessels into that main channel of the river, the whole delta of the Orinoco may be regarded as a country still unexplored, and almost unknown. Indeed, the same remark might be made of the whole river, were it not for the magnificent monument left by the great traveller Von Humboldt,--whose narrative of the exploration of the Orinoco is, beyond all comparison, the finest book of travels yet given to the world. To him are we chiefly indebted for our knowledge of the Orinoco; since the Spanish nation, who, for more than three centuries, have held undisputed possession of this mighty stream, have left us scarce a line about it worth either credit or record. It is now more than half a century, since the date of Humboldt's "Personal Narrative;" and yet, strange to say, during all that period, scarce an item has been added to our knowledge of the Orinoco, beyond what this scientific traveller had already told us. Indeed, there is not much to say: for there has been little change in the river since then,--either in the aspect of nature, or the condition of man. What change there has been possesses rather a retrograde, than a progressive character. Still, now, as then, on the banks of the Orinoco, we behold a languid commerce,--characteristic of the decaying Spano-American race,--and the declining efforts of a selfish and bigoted missionary zeal, whose boasted aim of "christianising and civilising" has ended only in producing a greater brutalisation. After three centuries of _paternosters_ and bell-ringing, the red savage of the Orinoco returns to the worship of his ancestral gods,--or to no worship at all,--and for this backsliding he can, perhaps, give a sufficient reason. Pardon me, young reader, for this digression. It is not my purpose to discuss the polemical relations of those who inhabit the banks of the Orinoco; but to give you some account of a very singular people who dwell near its mouth,--upon the numerous canos, already mentioned as constituting its delta. These are the "Guaraons,"--a tribe of Indians,--usually considered as a branch of the Great Carib family, but forming a community among themselves of seven or eight thousand souls; and differing so much from most other savages in their habits and mode of life, as fairly to entitle them to the appellation of an "Odd People." The Orinoco, like many other large rivers, is subject to a periodical rise and fall; that is, once every year, the river swells to a great height above its ordinary level. The swelling or "flood" was for a long time supposed to proceed from the melting of snow upon the Cordilleras of the Andes,--in which mountains several of the tributaries of the Orinoco have their rise. This hypothesis, however, has been shown to be an incorrect one: since the main stream of the Orinoco does not proceed from the Andes, nor from any other snowcapped mountains; but has its origin, as already stated, in the _sierras_ of Guiana. The true cause of its periodical rising, therefore, is the vast amount of rain which falls within the tropics; and this is itself occasioned by the sun's course across the torrid zone, which is also the cause of its being periodical or "annual." So exact is the time at which these rains fall, and produce the floods of the Orinoco, that the inhabitants of the river can tell, within a few days, when the rising will commence, and when the waters will reach their lowest! The flood season very nearly corresponds to our own summer,--the rise commencing in April, and the river being at its maximum height in August,--while the minimum is again reached in December. The height to which the Orinoco rises has been variously estimated by travellers: some alleging it to be nearly one hundred feet; while others estimate it to be only fifty, or even less! The reason of this discrepancy may be, that the measurements have been made at different points,--at each of which, the actual height to which the flood attains, may be greater or less than at the others. At any one place, however, the rise is the same--or very nearly so--in successive years. This is proved by observations made at the town of Angostura,--the lowest Spanish settlement of any importance upon the Orinoco. There, nearly in front of the town, a little rocky islet towers up in the middle of the river; the top of which is just fifty feet above the bed of the stream, when the volume of water is at its minimum. A solitary tree stands upon the pinnacle of this rock; and each year, when the water is in full flood, the tree alone is visible,--the islet being entirely submerged. From this peculiar circumstance, the little islet has obtained the name of "Orinocometer," or measurer of the Orinoco. The rise here indicated is about fifty feet; but it does not follow from this, that throughout its whole course the river should annually rise to so great a height. In reality it does not. At Angostura, as the name imports, the river is _narrowed_ to less than half its usual width,--being there confined between high banks that impinge upon its channel. Above and below, it widens again; and, no doubt, in proportion to this widening will the annual rise be greater or less. In fact, at many places, the width of the stream is no longer that of its ordinary channel; but, on the contrary, a vast "freshet" or inundation, covering the country for hundreds of miles,--here flooding over immense marshes or grassy plains, and hiding them altogether,-- there flowing among forests of tall trees, the tops of which alone project above the tumult of waters! These inundations are peculiarly observable in the _delta_ of the Orinoco,--where every year, in the months of July and August, the whole surface of the country becomes changed into a grand fresh-water sea: the tops of the trees alone rising above the flood, and proclaiming that there is _land_ at the bottom. At this season the ordinary channels, or _canos_, would be obliterated; and navigation through them become difficult or impossible, but for the tree-tops; which, after the manner of "buoys" and signal-marks, serve to guide the pilots through the intricate mazes of the "bocas del Orinoco." Now it is this annual inundation, and the semi-submergence of these trees under the flood, that has given origin to the peculiar people of whom we are about to speak,--the Guaraons; or, perhaps, we should rather say, from these causes have arisen their strange habits and modes of life which entitle them to be considered an "odd people." During the period of the inundation, if you should sail up the southern or principal cano of the Orinoco,--known as the "boca de navios," or "ships' mouth,"--and keep your face to the northward, you would behold the singular spectacle of a forest growing out of the water! In some places you would perceive single trees, with the upper portion of their straight, branchless trunks rising vertically above the surface, and crowned by about a dozen great fan-shaped leaves, radiating outwards from their summits. At other places, you would see many crowded together, their huge fronds meeting, and forming close clumps, or "water groves," whose deep-green colour contrasts finely as it flings its reflection on the glistening surface below. Were it night,--and your course led you through one of the smaller canos in the northern part of the delta,--you would behold a spectacle yet more singular, and more difficult to be explained; a spectacle that astounded and almost terrified the bold navigators, who first ventured to explore these intricate coasts.--You would not only perceive a forest, growing out of the water; but, high up among the tops of the trees, you would behold blazing fires,--not the conflagration of the trees themselves, as if the forest were in flames,--but fires regularly built, glowing as from so many furnaces, and casting their red glare upwards upon the broad green leaves, and downwards upon the silvery surface of the water! If you should chance to be near enough to these fires, you would see cooking utensils suspended over them; human forms, both, of men and women seated or squatting around them; other human forms, flitting like shadows among the tops of the trees; and down below, upon the surface of the water, a fleet of canoes (_periaguas_), fastened with their mooring-ropes to the trunks. All this would surprise you,--as it did the early navigators,--and, very naturally, you would inquire what it could mean. Fires apparently suspended in the air! human beings moving about among the tops of the trees, talking, laughing, and gesticulating! in a word, acting just as any other savages would do,--for these human beings _are_ savages,--amidst the tents of their encampment or the houses of their village. In reality it is a village upon which you are gazing,--a village suspended in the air,--a village of the Guaraon Indians! Let us approach nearer; let us steal into this water village--for it would not be always safe to enter it, except by stealth--and see how its singular habitations are constructed, as also in what way their occupants manage to get their living. The village under our observation is now,--at the period of inundation,--nearly a hundred miles from shore, or from any dry land: it will be months before the waters can subside; and, even then, the country around will partake more of the nature of a quagmire, than of firm soil; impassable to any human being,--though _not_ to a Guaraon, as we shall presently see. It is true, the canoes, already mentioned, might enable their owners to reach the firm shores beyond the delta; and so they do at times; but it would be a voyage too long and too arduous to be made often,--as for the supply of food and other daily wants,--and it is not for this purpose the canoes are kept. No: these Guaraons visit terra firma only at intervals; and then for purposes of trade with a portion of their own and other tribes who dwell there; but they permanently reside within the area of the inundated forests; where they are independent, not only of foreign aggression, but also for their supply of all the necessaries of life. In these forests, whether flooded or not, they procure everything of which they stand in need,--they there find, to use an old-fashioned phrase, "meat, drink, washing, and lodging." In other words: were the inundation to continue forever, and were the Guaraons entirely prohibited from intercourse with the dry land, they could still find subsistence in this, their home upon the waters. Whence comes their subsistence? No doubt you will say that fish is their food; and drink, of course, they have in abundance; but this would not be the true explanation. It is true they eat fish, and turtle, and the flesh of the _manatee_, or "fish-cow,"--since the capturing of these aquatic creatures is one of the chief occupations of the Guaraons,--but they are ofttimes entirely without such food; for, it is to be observed, that, during the period of the inundations fish are not easily caught, sometimes not at all. At these times the Guaraons would starve--since, like all other savages, they are improvident--were it not that the singular region they inhabit supplies them with another article of food,--one that is inexhaustible. What is this food, and from whence derived? It will scarce surprise you to hear that it is the produce of the trees already mentioned; but perhaps you _will_ deem it singular when I tell you that the trees of this great _water-forest_ are all of one kind,--all of the same species,--so that here we have the remarkable fact of a single species of vegetable, growing without care or cultivation, and supplying all the wants of man,--his food, clothing, fuel, utensils, ropes, houses, and boats,--not even drink excepted, as will presently be seen. The name of this wonderful tree? "Ita," the Guaraons call it; though it is more generally known as "morichi" among the Spanish inhabitants of the Orinoco; but I shall here give my young reader an account of it, from which he will learn something more than its name. The _ita_ is a true palm-tree, belonging to the genus _mauritia_; and, I may remark, that notwithstanding the resemblance in sound, the name of the genus is not derived from the words "morichi," "murichi," or "muriti," all of which are different Indian appellations of this tree. _Mauritia_ is simply a Latinised designation borrowed from the name of Prince Maurice of Nassau, in whose honour the genus was named. The resemblance, therefore, is merely accidental. I may add, too, that there are many species of _mauritia_ growing in different parts of tropical America,--some of them palms of large size, and towering height, with straight, smooth trunks; while others are only tiny little trees, scarce taller than a man, and with their trunks thickly covered with conical protuberances or spines. Some of them, moreover, affect a high, dry soil, beyond the reach of floods; while others do not prosper, except on tracts habitually marshy, or annually covered with inundations. Of these latter, the _ita_ is perhaps the most conspicuous; since we have already stated, that for nearly six months of the year it grows literally out of the water. Like all its congeners, the ita is a "fan-palm;" that is, its leaves, instead of being _pinnately_ divided, as in most species of palms, or altogether _entire_, as in some few, radiate from the midrib of the leaf-stalk, into a broad palmated shape, bearing considerable resemblance to a fan when opened to its full extent. At the tips these leaflets droop slightly, but at that end where they spring out of the midrib, they are stiff and rigid. The petiole, or leaf-stalk itself, is long, straight, and thick; and where it clasps the stem or trunk, is swollen out to a foot in width, hollowed, or concave on the upper side. A full-grown leaf, with its petiole, is a wonderful object to look upon. The stalk is a solid beam full twelve feet in length, and the leaf has a diameter of nearly as much. Leaf and stalk together make a load, just as much as one man can carry upon his shoulders! Set about a dozen of these enormous leaves on the summit of a tall cylindrical column of five feet in circumference, and about one hundred in height,--place them with their stalks clasping or sheathing its top,--so that the spreading fans will point in every direction outwards, inclining slightly upwards; do this, and you will have the great _morichi_ palm. Perhaps, you may see the trunk swollen at its middle or near the top,--so that its lower part is thinner than above,--but more often the huge stem is a perfect cylinder. Perhaps you may see several of the leaves drooping downward, as if threatening to fall from the tree; you may even see them upon the ground where they have fallen, and a splendid ruin they appear. You may see again rising upward out of the very centre of the crown of foliage, a straight, thick-pointed column. This is the young leaf in process of development,--its tender leaflets yet unopened, and closely clasped together. But the fervid tropical sun soon produces expansion; and a new fan takes the place of the one that has served its time and fallen to the earth,--there to decay, or to be swept off by the flood of waters. Still more may be noticed, while regarding this noble palm. Out of that part of the trunk,--where it is embraced by the sheathing bases of the petioles,--at a certain season of the year, a large spathe will be seen to protrude itself, until it has attained a length of several feet. This spathe is a bract-like sheath, of an imperfect tubular form. It bursts open; and then appears the huge spadix of flowers, of a whitish-green colour, arranged along the flower-stalk in rows,--_pinnately_. It will be observed, moreover, that these spadices are different upon different trees; for it must be remembered that the mauritia palm is _diaecious_,--that is, having the female flowers on one tree, and the male or staminiferous flowers upon another. After the former have glowed for a time in the heat of the sun, and received the fertilising pollen wafted to them by the breeze,--carried by bee or bird, or transported by some unknown and mysterious agency of nature,-- the fruits take form and ripen. These, when fully ripe, have attained to the size of a small apple, and are of a very similar form. They are covered with small brown, smooth scales,--giving them somewhat the appearance of fir-cones, except that they are roundish instead of being cone-shaped. Underneath the scales there is a thinnish layer of pulp, and then the stone or _nut_. A single spadix will carry carry several hundreds--thousands, I might say--of these nuts; and the whole bunch is a load equal to the strength of two ordinary men! Such is the ita palm. Now for its uses,--the uses to which it is put by the Guaraons. When the Guaraon wishes to build himself a habitation, he does not begin by digging a foundation in the earth. In the spongy soil on which he stands, that would be absurd. At a few inches below the surface he would reach water; and he might dig to a vast depth without finding firm ground. But he has no idea of laying a foundation upon the ground, or of building a house there. He knows that in a few weeks the river will be rising; and would overtop his roof, however high he might make it. His foundation, therefore, instead of being laid in the ground, is placed far above it,--just so far, that when the inundation is at its height the floor of his dwelling will be a foot or two above it. He does not take this height from guesswork. That would be a perilous speculation. He is guided by certain marks upon the trunks of palm-trees,--notches which he has himself made on the preceding year, or the natural watermark, which he is able to distinguish by certain appearances on the trees. This point once determined, he proceeds to the building of his house. A few trunks are selected, cut down, and then split into beams of sufficient length. Four fine trees, standing in a quadrangle, have already been selected to form the corner-posts. In each of these, just above the watermark, is cut a deep notch with a horizontal base to serve as a rest for the cross-beams that are to form the foundation of the structure. Into these notches the beams are hoisted,--by means of ropes,--and there securely tied. To reach the point where the platform is to be erected--sometimes a very high elevation--ladders are necessary; and these are of native manufacture,--being simply the trunk of a palm-tree, with notches cut in it for the toes of the climber. These afterwards serve as a means of ascending and descending to the surface of the water, during the period of its rise and fall. The main timbers having been firmly secured in their places, cross-beams are laid upon them, the latter being either pieces of the split trunks, or, what is usually easier to obtain, the petioles of the great leaves,--each of which, as already stated, forms of itself a large beam, twelve feet in length and from six to twelves inches in breadth. These are next secured at both ends by ropes of the palm fibre. Next comes a layer of palm-leaves, the strong, tough leaflets serving admirably as laths to uphold the coating of mud, which is laid thickly over them. The mud is obtained from below, without difficulty, and in any quantity required; and when trowelled smooth, and dry,--which it soon becomes under the hot sun,--constitutes an excellent floor, where a fire may be kindled without danger of burning either the laths or joists underneath. As yet the Guaraon has completed only the floor of his dwelling, but that is his principal labour. He cares not for walls,--neither sides nor gables. There is no cold, frosty weather to chill him in his tropical home,--no snow to be kept out. The rain alone, usually falling in a vertical direction, has to be guarded against; and from this he secures himself by a second platform of lighter materials, covered with mats, which he has already woven for the purpose, and with palm-leaflets, so placed as to cast off the heaviest shower. This also shelters him against the burning sun,--an enemy which he dreads even more than the rain. His house is now finished; and, with the exception of the mud floor, is all of ita palm,--beams, cross-timbers, laths, ropes, and mats. The ropes he has obtained by stripping off the epidermis of the full-grown leaflets, and then twisting it into cordage of any thickness required. For this purpose it is equal to hemp. The mats he has made from the same material,--and well does he, or rather his wife--for this is usually the work of the females--know how to plait and weave them. Having completed the building of his aerial dwelling, the Guaraon would eat. He has fish, which has been caught in the neighbouring cano,-- perhaps turtle,--perhaps the flesh of the manatee, or the alligator,-- for his palate is by no means of a delicate fineness, and will not refuse a steak from the tail of the American crocodile. But when the flood time is on, fish become scarce, or cannot be had at all,--no more can turtles, or sea-cows, or alligators. Besides, scarce or plenty, something else is wanted to vary the diet. Bread is wanted; and for this the Guaraon has not far to go. The ita again befriends him, for he finds, upon splitting open its trunk, a large deposit of medullary pith or fecula; which, when submitted to the process of bruising or grating, and afterwards stirred in water, forms a sediment at the bottom of the vessel, a substance not only eatable, but equal in excellence to the well-known produce of the _sago_ palm. This farinaceous pith, formed into cakes and roasted over the fire,--the fuel being supplied by leaves and leaf-stalks,--constitutes the _yuruma_,--the daily bread of the Guaraon. The yuruma, or rather the sago out of which it is made, is not obtainable at all times. It is the male palm which produces it; and it must be extracted just as the tree is about to expand its spadix of flowers. The same curious fact is observed with regard to the _maguey_, or great American aloe, which produces the drink called "pulque." To procure the sap in any considerable quantity, the maguey must be tapped just on that day when the flower-stalk is about to shoot upward from among the leaves. The Guaraon, having eaten his yuruma, would drink. Does he have recourse to the water which flows in abundance beneath his dwelling? No. On ordinary occasions he may quench his thirst in that way; but he wishes for some beverage more cheering. Again the ita yields it without stint, and even gives him a choice. He may tap the trunk, and draw forth the sap; which, after being submitted to a process of fermentation, becomes a wine,--"murichi wine," a beverage which, if the Guaraon be so inclined, and drink to excess, will make him "as drunk as a lord!" But he may indulge in a less dangerous, and more delicate drink, also furnished by his favourite ita. This he obtains by flinging a few of the nuts into a vessel of water, and leaving them awhile to ferment; then beating them with a pestle, until the scales and pulp are detached; and, lastly, passing the water through a sieve of palm fibre. This done, the drink is ready to be quaffed. For all these purposes tools and utensils are required, but the ita also furnishes them. The trunk can be scooped out into dishes; or cut into spoons, ladles, and trenchers. The flower "spathes" also gives him cups and saucers. Iron tools, such as hatchets and knives, he has obtained from commerce with Europeans; but, before their arrival in the New World, the Guaraon had his hatchet of flint, and his knife-blade of obsidian; and even now, if necessary, he could manage without metal of any kind. The bow and arrows which he uses are obtained from the tough, sinewy petiole of the leaf; so is the harpoon spear with which he strikes the great manatee, the porpoise, and the alligator; the canoe, light as cork, which carries him through the intricate channels of the delta, is the hollow trunk of a morichi palm. His nets and lines, and the cloth which he wears around his loins, are all plaited or woven from the young leaflets before they have expanded into the fan-like leaf. Like other beings, the Guaraon must at times sleep. Where does he stretch his body,--on the floor?--on a mat? No. He has already provided himself with a more luxurious couch,--the "rede," or hammock, which he suspends between two trees; and in this he reclines, not only during the night, but by day, when the sun is too hot to admit of violent exertion. His wife has woven the hammock most ingeniously. She has cut off the column of young leaves, that projects above the crown of the morichi. This she has shaken, until the tender leaflets become detached from each other and fall apart. Each she now strips of its outer covering,--a thin, ribbon-like pellicle of a pale-yellow colour,-- which shrivels up almost like a thread. These she ties into bundles, leaving them to dry awhile; after which she spins them into strings, or, if need be, twists them into larger cords. She then places two horizontal rods or poles about six feet apart, and doubles the string over them some forty or fifty times. This constitutes the _woof_; and the _warp_ is obtained by cross strings twisted or tied to each of the longitudinal ones, at intervals of seven or eight inches. A strong cord, made from the epidermis of the full-grown leaves, is now passed through the loop of all the strings, drawn together at both ends, and the poles are then pulled out. The hammock, being finished and hung up between two trees, provides the naked Indian with a couch, upon which he may repose as luxuriantly as a monarch on his bed of down. Thus, then, does a single tree furnish everything which man, in his primitive simplicity, may require. No wonder that the enthusiastic missionaries have given to the morichi palm the designation of "arbol de vida" (tree of life). It may be asked why does the Guaraon live in such a strange fashion,-- especially when on all sides around him there are vast tracts of _terra firma_ upon which he might make his dwelling, and where he could, with far less difficulty, procure all the necessaries, and many of the luxuries of life? The question is easily answered; and this answer will be best given by asking others in, return. Why do the Esquimaux and Laplanders cling to their inhospitable home upon the icy coasts of the Arctic Sea? Why do tribes of men take to the cold, barren mountains, and dwell there, within sight of lovely and fertile plains? Why do others betake themselves to the arid steppes and dreary recesses of the desert? No doubt the Guaraon, by powerful enemies forced from his aboriginal home upon the firm soil, first sought refuge in the marshy flats where we now encounter him: there he found security from pursuit and oppression; there--even at the expense of other luxuries--he was enabled to enjoy the sweetest of fill,--the luxury of liberty. What was only a necessity at first, soon became a habit; and that habit is now an essential part of his nature. Indeed, it is not so long since the necessity itself has been removed. Even at the present hour, the Guaraon would not be secure, were he to stray too far from his sheltering marshes,--for, sad though it be to say so, the poor Indian, when beyond the protection of his tribe, is in many parts of South America still treated as a slave. In the _delta_ he feels secure. No slave-hunter,--no enemy can follow him there. Even the foeman of his own race cannot compete with him in crossing the wide flats of spongy quagmire,--over which, from long habit, he is enabled to glide with the lightness and fleetness of a bird. During the season of overflow, or when the waters have fallen to their lowest, he is equally secure from aggression or pursuit; and, no doubt, in spite of missionary zeal,--in spite of the general progress of civilisation,--in this savage security he will long remain. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. THE LAPLANDERS. One of the oldest "odd" people with which we are acquainted are the Laps or Laplanders. For many centuries the more civilised nations of Europe have listened to strange accounts, told by travellers of these strange people; many of these accounts being exaggerated, and others totally untrue. Some of the old travellers, being misled by the deer-skin dresses worn by the Laps, believed, or endeavoured to make others believe, that they were born with hairy skins like wild beasts; and one traveller represented that they had only a single eye, and that in the middle of the breast! This very absurd conception about a one-eyed people gained credit, even so late as the time of Sir Walter Raleigh,-- with this difference, that the locality of these gentry with the odd "optic" was South America instead of Northern Europe. In the case of the poor Laplander, not the slightest exaggeration is needed to render him an interesting study, either to the student of ethnology, or to the merely curious reader. He needs neither the odd eye nor the hairy pelt. In his personal appearance, dress, dwelling, mode of occupation, and subsistence, he is so different from almost every other tribe or nation of people, as to furnish ample matter for a monograph at once unique and amusing. I shall not stay to inquire whence originated this odd specimen of humanity. Such speculations are more suited to those so-called _learned_ ethnologists, who, resembling the anatomists in other branches of natural history, delight to deal in the mere pedantry of science,-- who, from the mere coincidence of a few words, can prove that two peoples utterly unlike have sprung from a common source: precisely as Monsieur Cuvier, by the examination of a single tooth, has proved that a rabbit was a rhinoceros! I shall not, therefore, waste time in this way, in hunting up the origin of the miserable Laplander; nor does it matter much where he sprang from. He either came from somewhere else, or was created in Lapland,-- one of the two; and I defy all the philosophers in creation to say which: since there is no account extant of when he first arrived in that cold northern land,--not a word to contradict the idea of his having been there since the first creation of the human race. We find him there _now_; and that is all that we have to do with his origin at present. Were we to speculate, as to what races are kindred to him, and to which he bears the greatest resemblance, we should say that he was of either the same or similar origin with the Esquimaux of North America, the Greenlanders of Greenland, and the Samoeids, Tuski, and other tribes dwelling along the northern shores of Asia. Among all these nations of little men, there is a very great similarity, both in personal appearance and habits of life; but it would not be safe to say that they all came from one common stock. The resemblances may be the result of a similarity in the circumstances, by which they are surrounded. As for language,--so much relied upon by the _scientific_ ethnologist,--there could scarce be a more unreliable guide. The black negro of Carolina, the fair blue-eyed Saxon, and the red-skinned, red-polled Hibernian, all speak one language; the descendants of all three, thousands of years hence, will speak the same,--perhaps when they are widely scattered apart,--and the superficial philosopher of those future times will, no doubt, ascribe to them all one common origin! Language, of itself, is no _proof_ of the natural affinities of two peoples. It is evidence of their once having been in juxtaposition,-- not much more. Of course when other points correspond, similarity of speech becomes a valuable corroboration. It is not our purpose, then, to inquire whence the Laplander came,--only _where_ he is now, and _what_ he is now. Where is he now? If you take your map of Europe, and draw a line from the Gulf of Kandalax, in the White Sea, to the middle of the Loffoden Isles, on the Norwegian coast, you will cut off the country which is now properly called Lapland. The country at present inhabited by the people called Laplanders, will be found north of this line. It is a boundary more imaginary than real: for in truth there is no political division known as Lapland, nor has there been for hundreds of years. It is said there once was a kingdom of Lapland, and a nation of Laplanders; but there is no proof that either one or the other ever existed. There was a peculiar people, whom we now style Laplanders, scattered over the whole northern part of the Scandinavian peninsula, and wandering as far south as the shores of the Gulf of Bothnia; but, that this people had ever any general compact, or union, deserving the name of government or nation, there is no proof. There is no evidence that they ever enjoyed a higher degree of civilisation than they do at present; and that is not one iota higher than exists among the Esquimaux of North America,-- notwithstanding the advantage which the Laplander has in the domestication of a ruminating quadruped and a knowledge of the Christian religion. The tract of country which I have above assigned to the modern Laplander, is to be regarded rather as meaning that portion of Northern Europe, which can scarcely be said to be in the occupation of any other people. True Laplanders may be found dwelling, or rather wandering, much to the south of the line here indicated,--almost to the head of the Bothnian Gulf,--but in these southern districts, he no longer has the range clear to himself. The Finn--a creature of a very different kind-- here meets him; constantly encroaching as a colonist on that territory which once belonged to the Laplander alone. It becomes necessary to say a few words about the names we are using: since a perfect chaos of confusion has arisen among travellers and writers, in relation to the nomenclature of these two people,--the Finns and the Laplanders. In the first place, then, there is in reality no such a people as Laplanders in Northern Europe. The word is a mere geographical invention, or "synonyme," if you wish. The people to whom we apply the name, call themselves "Samlash." The Danes and Norwegians term them "_Finns_;" and the Swedes and Russians style them "_Laps_." The people whom _we_ know as Finns--and who are not Laplanders in any sense--have received the appellation of Finns erroneously. These Finns have for a long period been making progress, as colonists, in the territory once occupied by the true Finns, or Laplanders; and have nothing in common with these last people. They are agriculturists, and dwell in fixed settlements; not pastoral and nomadic, as the Laplanders eminently are. Besides, there are many other essential points of difference between the two,--in mind,--in personal appearance, in habits, in almost everything. I am particular upon this point,--because the wrong application of the name _Finns_, to this last-mentioned race, has led writers into a world of error; and descriptions given of them and their habits have been applied to the people who are the subjects of the present chapter,-- leading, of course, to the most erroneous conclusions. It would be like exhibiting the picture of a Caffre as the likeness of a Hottentot or Bushman! The Finns, as geography now designates them,--and which also assigns to them a country called Finland,--are, therefore, not Finns at all. Where, they are found in the old Lapland territory as colonists, they are called _Quans_; and this name is given them alike by Russians, Swedes, Danes, and Norwegians. To return to our Laplanders, who are the true Finns. I have said that they are called by different names; by the Danes and Norwegians "Finns," and by the Russians and Swedes simply "Laps." No known meaning is attached to either name; nor can it be discovered at what period either came into use. Enough to know that these are the designations by which they are now known to those four nations who have had chiefly to deal with them. Since these people have received so many appellations,--and especially one that leads to much confusion,--perhaps it is better, for geography's sake, to accept the error: to leave the _new_ Finns to their usurped title, and to give the old Finns that distinctive name by which they are best known to the world, viz _Laplanders_. So long as it is remembered, that this is merely a geographical title, no harm can result from employing it; and should the word _Finns_ occur hereafter, it is to be considered as meaning not the Finns of Norwegian Finmark, but the Quans of Finland, on the Gulf of Bothnia. I have spoken of the country of the Laplanders, as if they _had_ a country. They have not. There is a territory in which they dwell; but it is not theirs. Long, long ago the lordship of the soil was taken from them; and divided between three powerful neighbours. Russia took her largest slice from the east; Sweden fell in for its southern part; and Norway claimed that northern and western portion, lying along the Atlantic and Arctic Oceans. This afterwards became the property of Denmark: when Norway herself ceased to be independent. The country, therefore, which I have defined as Lapland, in modern times is so styled, merely because it is almost exclusively occupied by these people: it not being worth the while of their Danish, Swedish, or Russian masters to colonise it. All three, however, claim their share of it,--have their regular boundary lines,--and each mulcts the miserable Laplander of an annual tribute, in the shape of a small poll-tax. Each, too, has _forced_ his own peculiar views of Christianity on those within his borders,--the Russian has shaped the Lap into a Greek Christian; while, under Swedish influence, he is a disciple of Martin Luther. His faith, however, is not very rational, one way or the other; and, in out-of-the-way corners of his chaotic country, he still adheres to some of his old mythic customs of sorcery and witchcraft: in other words, he is a "pagan." Before proceeding to describe the Laplander, either personally or intellectually, a word about the country in which he dwells. I have called it a _chaotic_ land. It has been described as a "huge congeries of frightful rocks and stupendous mountains, with many pleasant valleys, watered by an infinite number of rivulets, that run into the rivers and lakes." Some of the lakes are of large extent, containing a countless number of islands; one alone--the Lake Enaro--having so many, that it has been said no Laplander has lived long enough to visit each particular island. There is a great variety in the surface of the land. In some parts of the country the eye rests only on peaks and ridges of bleak, barren mountains,--on summits covered with never-melting snow,-- on bold, rocky cliffs or wooded slopes, where only the firs and birches can flourish. In other parts there are dusky forests of pines, intersected here and there by wide morasses or bogs. Elsewhere, are extensive tracts of treeless champaign, covered with the white reindeer-lichen, as if they were under a fall of snow! During summer there are many green and beautiful spots, where even the rose sheds its fragrance around, and many berry-bearing bushes blossom brightly; but the summer is of short duration, and in those parts where it is most attractive, the pest of gnats, mosquitoes, and gadflies, renders the country uninhabitable to the Laplander. We shall see presently, that, in the summer months, he flees from such lowland scenes, as from a pestilence; and betakes himself and his herd to the bleak, barren mountains. Having given this short sketch of the country inhabited by the Laplander, we proceed to a description of himself. He is short,--not more than five feet five inches, average height,-- squat and stoutish,--rarely corpulent,--though there is a difference in all these respects, between those who inhabit different parts of the country. The Laps of Norwegian Lapland are taller than those in the Russian and Swedish territory. His features are small, his eyes elongated, or slit-like, as among the Mongolian tribes; his cheek-bones prominent,--his mouth large and wide, and his chin sharply-pointed. His hair is black, or sometimes brownish; though among some tribes settled along the coasts light hair is not uncommon. It is probable that this may have originated in some admixture of blood with Norwegian, Russian, and other fishermen who frequent these coasts. The Laplander has little or no beard; and in this respect he resembles the Greenlander and Esquimaux. His body is ill-made, bony and muscular, and stronger than would be expected from his pigmy stature. He is active, and capable of enduring extreme fatigue and privation; though it is a mistake to suppose that he is the agile creature he has been represented,--this error arising no doubt from the surprising speed with which habit has enabled him to skate over the frozen snow; and which, to a person unused to it, would appear to prove an extraordinary degree of agility. The hands and feet are small,--another point in common with the Esquimaux. The Laplander's voice is far from being a manly one. On the contrary, it is of small compass, weak, and of a squeaking tone. The complexion of the Laplander is generally regarded as _dark_. Its natural hue is perhaps not much darker than that of the Norwegian. Certainly not darker than many Portuguese or Spaniards; but, as he is seen, he appears as swarth as an Indian. This, however, arises from the long and almost constant exposure to smoke: in the midst of which the miserable creature spends more than half of his time. It may again be observed, that those dwelling on the seashore are of lighter complexion; but perhaps that is also due to a foreign admixture. We have given a picture of the Laplander's person; now a word or two about his mind. Both his intellectual and moral man are peculiar,--even more so than his physical,--differing essentially from that of all the other nationalities with which he is brought in contact. He is cold-hearted, selfish, and morose. To love he is almost a stranger; and when such a feeling does exist within his bosom, it is rather as a spark than a passion. His courtship and marriage are pure matters of business,-- rarely having any other motive than self-interest. One woman will do for his wife wife as well as another; and better, if she be richer by half a dozen reindeer! Hospitality is a virtue equally unknown to him. He wishes to see no stranger; and even wonders why a stranger should stray into his wild, bleak country. He is ever suspicious of the traveller through his land; unless that traveller chance to come in the guise of a Russian or Norwegian merchant, to exchange strong brandy for his reindeer-skins, or the furs of the animals he may have trapped. In his dealings he exhibits a sufficient degree of cunning,--much more than might be expected from the low standard of his intellect; and he will take no paper-money or any kind of "scrip" in exchange. This caution, however, he has acquired from a terrible experience, which he once had in dealing with paper-money; and he is determined that the folly shall never again be repeated. Even in _his_ out-of-the-way corner of the globe, there was at one time a bank speculation of the "Anglo-Bengalee" character, of which the poor Lap was made an especial victim. He has no courage whatever. He will not resist oppression. The stranger--Russ or Norwegian--may strike, kick, or cuff him,--he will not return the blow. Belike he will burst into tears! And yet, under some circumstances, he shows a feeling akin to courage. He is cool in moments of danger from the elements, or when opposed to fierce animals, as the wolf or the bear. He is also capable of enduring fatigue to an extreme degree; and it is known historically that he was once warlike,--at least much more so than at present. _Now_, there is not a drop of warrior blood in his veins. On the contrary, he is timid and pacific, and rarely quarrels. He carries constantly upon his person a long ugly knife, of Norwegian manufacture; but he has never been known to draw it,--never known to commit murder with it. These are certainly virtues; but it is to be feared that with him they owe their origin to timidity and the dread of consequences. Now and then he has a quarrel with one of his fellows; but the knife is never used; and the "punishment" consists in giving and receiving various kicks, scratches, pullings of the hair and ears: genuine blows, however, are not attempted, and the long knife never leaves its sheath. In the olden time he was a great believer in witches; in fact, noted for his faith in sorcery. Christianity, such as it is, has done much to eradicate this belief; but he is still troubled with a host of superstitions. Of filial and parental affection his stock is but scanty. The son shifts for himself, as soon as he is able to do so; and but little anxiety is exhibited about him afterwards. The daughter goes to the highest bidder,--to him who is most liberal in presents of brandy to the parent. Jealousy is little known. How could it be felt, where there is no love? One of the worst vices of the Laplander is his fondness for drink,-- amounting almost to a passion. It is one of his costliest, too: since he often consumes the produce of his industry in its indulgence. His favourite beverage is strong, bad brandy,--a staple article kept by the traders, to exchange for the commodities which the country affords. As these men care little for the result, and have a far greater influence over the Laplander than either the government officials, or the lazy, timeserving missionaries, it is not probable that temperance will ever be introduced among these wretched people. Fortunately, only the coast Laplanders are at all times subject to this influence. The mountain people or those who dwell most of their time in the interior, are too distant from the "tap" to be so grievously affected by it. It is only on their short annual visits to the merchant stations on the coast, that they fall extensively into the jaws of this degrading vice. The dress of the Laplander is now to be described. The men wear on their heads tall caps, of a conical form, usually of a cloth called _wadmal_, or some species of kersey furnished by the merchants. This cap has a tassel at top, and around the bottom is turned up several inches,--where it is strengthened by a band of reindeer-skin, or the fur of the otter. The coat is a loose garment or frock: made of the skin of the reindeer, with the hairy side out, and fastened around the waist with a broad leathern belt. In this belt is stuck the pointed knife, and a pouch or two, for pipe, tobacco, and spoon, are also suspended from it. Breeches of reindeer-skin--the hide of the young fawns--reach to the ankles; and buskins, or rather stockings, of the same material cover the feet. These are gartered over the ends of the breeches, in such a way that no snow can get in; and since there is neither shirt nor drawers worn, we have given every article of a Laplander's dress. No. There are the gloves, or mittens, which must not be forgotten,--as they are one of the things most essential to his comfort. These are also the universal deer-hide. Simple as is this dress of the Lapland men, it is not more simple than that of the Lapland women, since both one and the other are exactly alike. A slight difference is observable in the shape of the bonnet; but for the rest, the lady wears the deer-skin frock, the breeches, and boots,--and like her liege lord, she scorns to include linen in her wardrobe. This plain dress, however, is the everyday _winter_ costume. The summer one, and especially upon grand occasions, is somewhat different, and altogether gayer. The shape is much the same; but the tunic or frock is of cloth, sometimes plain, coarse _wadmal_; but in the case of the richer proprietors, of fine coloured cloth,--even scarlet being sometimes worn. No matter what the quality of the cloth, however, the trimmings are always of rich, bright-coloured stuffs; and consist of bands or cords around the skirt, sleeves, and collar, elaborately stitched by the females,--who are in all cases the tailors. The leathern belt, worn with this dress, is loaded with ornaments,--little square and triangular plates of brass or white metal, and often of heavy, solid silver. The belt is an esteemed article,--as much so as his wampum to a North-American savage,--and it requires a large sum to tempt a Laplander to part with the precious equipment. A finer cap is also worn, on these summer and holiday occasions. Not unfrequently, however, the Laplander--especially the mountain Lap--sticks to his deer-skin coat, the _paesk_, through all weathers, and throughout all seasons,--when it is too hot simply taking off the belt, and leaving the flaps loose and open. In cold weather, and especially when riding in his sledge, an additional garment is worn. This is a fur "tippet," which covers his shoulders down to the elbows. It is made from the shaggy skin of the brown bear,--with the claws left on and hanging down in front of the breast. Before proceeding to describe the mode of life and occupation of the Laplander, it is necessary to state that all of the people known as Laplanders, are not occupied alike. On the contrary, they may be separated into three distinct classes, according to the lives which they lead; and it is absolutely necessary to make this classification in the illustration of their habits. They are all alike in race and national characteristics,--all Laplanders,--and they differ but little in their-- style of dressing; but, in other respects, what might be said of one would not be true of the other two. I proceed, therefore, to point out the distinction. The first to be noticed are those we have already mentioned under the title of "Coast," or "Shore Laplanders." The name will give an idea of their _habitat_,--as also their mode of life and subsistence. They dwell along the Norwegian coasts, round to the North Cape, and even beyond it. They build their _gammes_, or sod-thatched dwellings, in little villages around the numerous creeks and "fiords" that intersect this rock-bound shore. Their calling is that of fishermen. They subsist almost entirely upon fish; and live by selling their surplus to the merchants and Russian traders. They keep a few sheep, sometimes a poor cow, but rarely own the reindeer. The life they lead is entirely different from that of their kindred, who dwell habitually in the interior. As it differs little from that of poor fishermen elsewhere, I shall dismiss the coast Laplander without another word. The second kind of Lap who merits our consideration, is that known as the "Wood Laplander," or, more commonly, "Wood Lap." He is less known than either of the two other varieties; but, as already stated, he differs from them principally on account of his occupation. His home is to be found upon the extensive plain country of Russian Lapland, and not near the sea. He is a dweller in the pine and fir-forests; and builds him a rude hut, very similar to the gamme of the coast Lap; but he is in possession of some reindeer,--not enough, however, to support him,--and he ekes out a subsistence by fishing in the rivers and fresh-water lakes of the interior, by shooting the elk and wild reindeer, and trapping the fur-bearing animals,--the ermine, the sable, the miniver-squirrel, the badger, glutton, foxes, and wolves. As his calling is chiefly that of a hunter and trapper, and therefore very similar to like occupations in many other parts of the world, we need not enter into details of it here. For the present, therefore, we must _shelve_ the _Wood Lap_ along with his kinsman of the coast. This brings us to the third class,--the "Mountain," or, as he is often called, the "Reindeer Laplander:" since it is the possession of this animal that chiefly distinguishes him from the other two classes of his countrymen. His mode of life is altogether different from either,--in fact, resembling theirs in but few particulars. True, he fishes a little, and occasionally does a bit of amateur hunting; but these are mere adjuncts or pastimes. His main support is his antlered flock: it would be more truthful to call it his sole support. By the reindeer lives, by the reindeer he _moves_, by the reindeer he has his being. His life is purely pastoral; he is a nomade,--a wanderer. All the world knows this; but all the world does not know _why_ he wanders. Writers have asserted that it was to seek new pasture for his flocks,--the old ground having been eaten bare. Nothing of the sort. He leaves the fertile plains, just as the willows are putting forth their succulent shoots,--just as the rich grass begins to spring fresh and green,--and betakes himself to the bleak sides of the mountains. That does not look like seeking for a better pasture. It has nothing to do with it. Let us follow him, however, throughout his wanderings,--through the circuit of a single year,--and, perhaps, we shall find out the motive that inducts him into the roving habit. First, then, to be a "Reindeer Laplander," he must be the owner of one hundred head of deer; fewer than that will be of no use. If he have only fifty, he must sell out, and betake himself to some settlement of Quans or Norwegians,--there to give his service for hire,--or else turn Coast Laplander and fisherman,--a calling which he despises. This would be a sinking in the social scale; but, if he has been imprudent or unfortunate, and his flock has got reduced to fifty head, there is no help for it. If he have one hundred, however, he may manage with great economy to rub on; and keep up his character as a _free Reindeer Lap_. With three hundred he can live comfortably; better with five hundred; but a thousand would render him affluent. With fifteen hundred he would be a grandee; and two thousand would give him the rank of a millionaire! There are very few millionaires in Lapland, and not many grandees. Proprietors of even a thousand head are scarce; there are more whose herds number from three hundred to five hundred each. And here, I may remark, that there is no government,--no tribal organisation. The owner of each herd is the head of a family; over them he is patriarch, but his power extends no further. It is not even great so far, if there chance to be grown-up unruly sons sharing the common tent. I have used the word tent. That is the Reindeer Laplander's home,-- winter and summer alike. Notwithstanding the severity of his clime, he builds no house; and even his tent is of the very rudest kind known among tenting tribes. It consists of some birch saplings set up in the snow, bent towards each other, and then covered over with a piece of coarse cloth,--the _wadmal_. This he prefers to a covering of skins; and obtains it from the Norwegian or Russ trader in exchange for the latter. The tent, when standing, is only six feet high, and not much more in diameter. In this circumscribed space his whole family, wife, daughters, sons, often a retainer or two, and about a dozen dogs find shelter from the piercing blast,--seated, or lying beside, or on top of one another, higgledy-piggledy, any way they can. There is room found besides for a large iron or brass cooking-pot, some dishes and bowls of birch, a rude stone furnace, and a fire in the middle of the floor. Above the fire, a rack forms a shelf for countless tough cheeses, pieces of reindeers' flesh, bowls of milk, bladders of deer's blood, and a multiplicity of like objects. The spring is just opening; the frost has thawed from the trees,--for the winter home is in the midst of a forest,--the ground is bare of snow, and already smiling with a carpet of green, enamelled by many brilliant flowers. It is time, therefore, for the Reindeer Laplander to decamp from the spot, and seek some other scene less inviting to the eye. You will naturally inquire why he does this? and perhaps you will express some surprise at a man showing so little judgment as to take leave of the fertile plain,--just now promising to yield him a rich pasture for his herds,--and transport his whole stock to the cold declivity of a bleak mountain? Yes, it is natural this should astonish you,--not, however, when you have heard the explanation. Were he to stay in that plain--in that wood where he has wintered--a month longer, he would run the risk of losing half of his precious herd: perhaps in one season find himself reduced to the necessity of becoming a _Coast Lap_. The reason is simple,--the great gadfly (_Aestrus tarandi_), with numerous other tormentors, are about to spring forth from the morass; and, as soon as the hot sun has blown them into full strength and vitality, commence their work of desolation upon the deer. In a few short days or hours their eggs would be deposited in the skin,--even in the nostrils of the antlered creature,--there to germinate and produce disease and death. Indeed, the torment of biting gnats and other insects would of itself materially injure the health and condition of the animals; and if not driven to the mountains, they would "stampede," and go there of their own accord. It becomes a necessity, then, for the Reindeer Lap to remove his habitation; and, having gathered a few necessary utensils, and packed them on his stoutest bucks, he is off to the mountains. He does not take the whole of his _penates_ along with him. That would be difficult, for the snow is now gone, and he cannot use his proper mode of travelling,--the sledge. This he leaves behind him; as well as all other implements and articles of household use, which he can do without in his summer quarters. The cooking-pot, and a few bowls and dishes, go along with him,--also the tent-cloth, and some skins for bedding. The smaller articles are deposited in panniers of wicker, which are slung over the backs of a number of pack-deer; and, if a balance be required, the infant Lap, in its little boat-like cradle, forms the adjusting medium. The journey is often of immense length. There may be highlands near, but these are not to the Laplander's liking. Nothing will satisfy him but the bold mountain range that overlooks the sea, trending along the whole Norwegian coast: only on the declivities of this, or on one of the thousand elevated rocky isles that guard this extensive seaboard, does the Laplander believe that his deer will enjoy proper health. He has a belief, moreover, that at least once every year, the reindeer should drink sea-water to keep them in condition. Certain it is, that on reaching the sea, these animals rush eagerly into the water, and drink the briny fluid; and yet ever after, during the same season, they refuse to taste it! It is the general opinion that the solitary draught thus taken has the effect of destroying such larvae, as may have already formed in their skins. This journey often costs the Laplander great fatigue and trouble. It is not uncommon for him to go two hundred miles to the Norwegian coast; for although his habitual home may lie much nearer to the shores of the Bothnian gulf, it would not serve his purpose to take his flock there. The forest on that side grows to the water's edge; and the gadfly is as abundant there, as in the wooded districts of the interior. On reaching his destination, the Laplander chooses his grazing-ground, sometimes on the mountains of the mainland; but he prefers one of the elevated islets so numerous along the shore. This insures him against all danger from the flies, and also saves him much trouble in herding his deer. The islet may be two miles from the main, or any other land. That does not signify. The reindeer can swim like ducks, and the herd is soon driven over. The wadmal tent is then pitched; and the work of the summer begins. This consists in milking, cheese-making, and looking after the young deer; and a little fishing adds to the keep of the family: for it is at this time that foreign support is most required. The season of summer is with the mountain Lap his season of scarcity! He does not dream of killing his deer at this season,--that would be sheer waste,--nor does he drink their milk, only in very little quantity. It goes to the making of cheese, and the owner of the herd contents himself with the whey. Butter is not made at all by the Reindeer Lap, though the Quans and Norwegians make some. The Lap would have no use for it,--since he eats no bread,--and it would not keep so well, nor yet be so safe an article of merchandise as the cheese. The latter he regards as his staple article of profit. He sells it to the coast-merchant: receiving in exchange his favourite dram-stuff, and a few pieces of coarse cloth, or utensils. The merchant is near at hand: for just for this very purpose are several small ports and settlements kept in existence along the otherwise desert shores of Norway. Deer-skins and dried fish, oils of the seal, furs and pelts of various kinds, have drawn these little settlements to the coast. Otherwise they would not be there. When the heat of the summer is over, the reindeer Laplander commences his return to his winter abode,--back to the place whence he came. The gadflies are now gone, and he can drive his deer back with safety; and just as he travelled to the coast, he wends his way home again: for it is to be observed that he regards the winter residence as the real home, and the summer one only as a place of temporary sojourn. He does not look upon it, as we at such a season. To him it is no pleasant excursion: rather is it his period of toil and dearth,--his _tightest_ time. Once home again, he has nothing to do but erect his wadmal tent and look after his deer,--that now find food upon their favourite lichen. It is buried inches deep under the snow. They care not for that. They can soon uncover the pasture with their broad hoofs; and their keen scent never allows them to scrape up the snow without finding the lichen underneath. Upon it they thrive, and at this season are in the best condition for the knife. The Laplander now also enjoys life. If rich, he has fresh venison every day; but even if only moderately well off, he "kills" two or three times a week. His mode of slaughtering is original. He sticks his long, knife-blade into the throat of the animal, leaving it there till the creature is dead! This precaution he takes to prevent waste. Were he to pull out the blade, the blood would flow and be lost. The knife acts as a stopper to the wound it has made. The blood is preserved and carefully put away,--the bladder being used as the vessel to contain it. You must not imagine that the Reindeer Lap remains all the winter in one place; on the contrary, he moves repeatedly, always taking his tent and tent-utensils along with him. The tent is as easily set up as taken down. The ground in all sheltered places is, at this season, covered with snow. It is only necessary to shovel it off, clearing a circular space about the size of the ground-plan of the tent. The snow, thus removed, produces a sort of elevated ring or snow-dyke all round the bare spot; and into this the tent-poles are hammered. They are then bent inward, tied near the tops, and the _wadmal_ being laid on as before, the tent is ready for use. Fresh branches of evergreen pines, and other trees, are strewed over the floor; and on top of these are laid the deer-skins that serve for beds, chairs, tables, and blankets. These, with the iron cooking-pot, a large iron or brass pail to hold melted snow-water for drinking, and a few other utensils, are the only furniture of the dwelling. I have already stated that the fire is built in the centre of the tent,--on some large stones, forming a rudely-constructed hearth. A hole in the roof is intended for a chimney; but its draught is so bad, that the tent is almost always filled with a cloud of bitter smoke,--so thick as to render objects invisible. In this atmosphere no other European, excepting a Lap, could possibly exist; and travellers, passing through the Lapland country, have often preferred braving the cold frost of the night air, to being half smothered by the smoke; and have consequently taken shelter under a neighbouring tree. The Laplander himself feels but little inconvenienced by the very thickest smoke. Habit is everything, and to this habit has he been used from his infancy. His eyes, however, are not so indifferent to the annoyance. These suffer from it; and the consequence is that the eyes of the Laplanders are almost universally sore and watery. This is a notable characteristic of the race. Smoke, however, is not the sole cause of it. The Esquimaux equally suffer from sore eyes; and these, burning oil in their houses instead of wood, are seldom troubled with smoke. More likely it is the snow-glare to which the Laplander, as well as the Esquimaux, is much exposed, that brings about this copious _watering_ of the eyes. The Laplander cooks the reindeer flesh by boiling. A large piece is put into the great family pot, and nothing added but a quantity of water. In this the meat boils and simmers till it is done tender. The oily fat is then skimmed off, and put into a separate vessel; and the meat is "dished" in a large tray or bowl of birch-bark. A piece is then cut off, for each individual of the family; and handed around the circle. It is eaten without bread, and even salt is dispensed with. A dip in the bowl of skim-fat is all the seasoning it gets; and it is washed down with the "liquor" in which it has been boiled, and which is nothing but greasy water, without vegetables or any other "lining." It has the flavour of the fat venison, however; and is by no means ill-tasted. The _angelica_ flourishes in the country of the Laplander, and of this vegetable he makes occasional use, not eating the roots, but the stalks and leaves, usually raw and without any preparation. Perhaps he is led to use it, by a knowledge of the antiscorbutic properties of the plant. Several species of berry-producing bushes also furnish him with an occasional meal of fruit. There are wild currants, the cranberry, whortle, and bilberries. The fruits of these trees do not fall in the autumn, as with us; but remain all winter upon the branches. Buried under the snow, they are preserved in perfect condition, until the thaw of the following spring once more brings them into view. At this time they are sweet and mellow; and are gathered in large quantities by the Lap women. Sometimes they are eaten, as they come from the tree; but it is more usual to make them into a "plum-pudding:" that is, they are mixed with a kind of curdled milk, and stored away in bladders. When wanted, a slice is cut from the mass,--including a piece of the bladder, within which they have now attained to the stiffness and consistence of a "cream-cheese." Another great luxury of the Laplander, is the reindeer's milk frozen into an "ice." This is easily obtained; and the process consists simply in filling a birchen bowl with milk, and exposing it to the open air during frost. It is soon converted into solid ice; and in this condition will keep perfectly sweet throughout the whole of the winter. As the reindeer are never milked in the depth of the winter season, the Laplander takes care, before that period approaches, to lay in a stock of ice-milk: so that he may have a drink of it at all times, by simply setting one of his birchen bowls within reach of the fire. He even makes a merchandise of this article: for the frozen reindeer milk is highly prized by the foreign merchants; who are ready, at any time, to exchange for the delicious article a dram of their devilish fire-water. It is at this season that the Laplander moves about, both on foot and in his sledge. He not only travels from place to place, in a circuit of twenty miles,--round the little solitary church which the Swedish missionary has built for him,--but he makes an occasional journey to the distant coast. In his sledge, or even afoot, a hundred miles are to him as nothing: for the frozen snow enables him to perform such a distance in an incredibly short time. On his "skis," or snow-skates he could do a hundred miles in a couple of days; even though the paths led him over hills, mountains, lakes, and rivers. All are now alike,--all concealed under the common covering of a deep snow. The lakes and rivers are frozen and bridged for him; and the mountain declivities are rendered smooth and easily traversed,--either by the sledge or the "skis." With the former he would think little of a hundred miles in a single day; and if the occasion were a "killing" one, and relays could be had upon the route, twice that enormous distance he could easily accomplish. The mode of sleigh-travelling by the Reindeer Laplander, as also his snow-skimming, or skating, have been both often and elaborately described. I have only space here to present the more salient points of the picture. This sleigh or sledge is termed by him "pulka;" but he has three varieties of this article,--two for travelling, and the third for carrying luggage. The two first kinds are nearly alike; and, in fact, differ only in a little extra "furniture," which one of them has upon it,--that is, a covering over the top, to keep more comfortable the feet and legs of the traveller. In other respects it is only the common pulk, being similar to the latter in shape, size, _atelage_, and everything. To get an idea of the Laplander's sledge, you must fancy a little boat, about six feet long, and sixteen inches in breadth of beam. This is the width at the stern, where it is broadest; but from the stern it narrows all the way forward, until, on reaching the stem, it has tapered almost to a point. Its sides are exactly like those of a boat; and it rests upon a "keel" of about four inches breadth, which keel is the one and only "runner." A strong board boxes up the stern end, in front of which is the seat; and the board itself serves to support the back of the rider. His legs and feet are stretched out longitudinally; filling up the space between the quarter-deck and the "forward" part of the little craft; and, thus fixed, the Laplander is ready for the road. In the best class of "pulk"--that used by the Russ and Swedish traders and travellers--the forward part is covered with a sort of half-deck of skins or leather; but the Laplander does not often fancy this. It gives him too much trouble to get out and in; as he is often compelled to do to look after his train of deer. His pulk, therefore, is open from stem to stern; and his deer-skin coverings keep his legs warm enough. Only one deer is used; and the mode of harnessing is of primitive simplicity. A band of skin acts as a collar round the neck of the animal; and from the lowest point of this a piece falls downwards below the animal's breast,--striking in on the counter like the pendants of a martingale. To this piece is attached the trace,--there is but one,-- which, passing between the forelegs, and afterwards the hind ones, is looped into an iron ring upon the stem of the sledge. Upon this trace, which is a strong strap of raw hide or leather, the whole draught-power is exerted. A broad surcingle--usually of cloth, neatly stitched and ornamented--passes round the deer's body. Its use is to hold up the trace underneath the belly, and prevent it from dragging the ground, or getting among the animal's feet. A similar band of cloth passes round its neck, giving a fine appearance to the noble creature. A single rein attached to the left horn, or fixed halter-fashion around the deer's head, is all that is necessary to guide it along; the movements of this, aided by the accents of its master's voice, are understood by this well-trained animal. For all that, the deer does not _always_ travel kindly. Frequently he takes a fit of obstinacy or anger; and will then turn upon his trainer,--presenting his antlered front in an attitude of attack. On such occasions the Lap takes shelter behind his "pulk," raising it in his arms, and holding it as a shield wherewith to defend himself; until he can pacify, or otherwise subdue, the irritated buck. The tumbling of the sledge, and consequent spilling of its load, is a thing of frequent occurrence, owing to the narrow base upon which the vehicle is supported; but the Laplander thinks nothing of a trifling mishap of this nature. In a trice the "snow-boat" is righted, the voyager in his seat again, and off over the frozen snow with the speed of lightning. The reindeer can travel nearly twenty English miles an hour! This rate of speed has been proved and tested; and with fresh relays along the route, over four hundred miles might be made in a day. But the same thing could be done with horses,--that is, upon a desperate emergency. The luggage "pulk" of the Laplander differs only from the other kinds of sledges in being longer, broader, deeper, and consequently of more capacity to carry goods. It is used for transporting the skins, and other merchantable commodities, from the interior to the trading depots on the coast. The _skis_ or snow-skates require very little description. They are on the same principle as the snow-shoes in use among the North-American Indians; though from these they differ materially in construction. They are merely two long pieces of smooth board, a few inches in breadth, and slightly turned up at the ends. One is full six feet,--the right one; the left is about twelve inches shorter. Near the middle they are lashed firmly to the feet by strong pieces of hide; and by means of these curious appendages, when the snow is crusted over, the Laplander can skim over its surface with great rapidity. He uses a long pole to guide and assist him in his movements; and this pole has a piece of circular board, or a round ball, near its point,--to prevent it from sinking too deeply in the snow. Going _up hill_ upon the skis is not so easy,--but the practised skater can ascend even the steep acclivities of the mountains with less difficulty than might be imagined. This is accomplished in zigzag lines,--each leading to a higher elevation. Down hill, the course upon _skis_ is rapid almost as the flight of an arrow; and, by means of the long pole, rocks, ravines, and precipices, are shunned with a dexterity that is quite surprising. Altogether a Laplander, either in his reindeer sledge, or upon his long wooden "skis," is as interesting a sight as may be seen anywhere. After all that has been said, it will appear pretty clearly, that the Laplander, though dwelling so very near to civilised lands, is still very far distant from _true civilisation_. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. THE ANDAMANERS, OR MUD-BEDAUBERS. On the eastern side of the Bay of Bengal lies a cluster, or archipelago, of islands known as the "Andamans." They form a long string running nearly northward and southward; and with the Nicobar group, still further to the south, they appear like a series of stepping-stones connecting Cape Negrais, in the Burmese country, with the island of Sumatra. Independent of the Nicobar Islands, the Andamans themselves have an extent of several hundred miles in length; while their breadth is nowhere over about twenty miles. Until of late the greater portion of the group was supposed to form only one island,--known as the "Great Andaman;" but, in the year 1792, this was discovered to have a channel across it that divided it into two distinct parts. The discovery of this channel was accidental; and the accident was attended with melancholy consequences. A vessel from Madras had entered between the Great Andaman, and the opposite coast of Burmah. This vessel was laden with provisions, intended for the supply of Port Cornwallis,--a convict settlement, which the British had formed the preceding year on the eastern side of the island. The master of the vessel, not knowing the position of Port Cornwallis, sent a boat to explore an opening which he saw in the land,--fancying that it might be the entrance to the harbour. It was not this, however; but the mouth of the channel above mentioned. The crew of the boat consisted of two Europeans and six Lascars. It was late in the afternoon when they stood into the entrance; and, as it soon fell dark upon them, they lost their way, and found themselves carried along by a rapid current that set towards the Bay of Bengal. The north-east monsoon was blowing at the time with great violence; and this, together with the rapid current, soon carried the boat through the channel; and, in spite of their efforts, they were driven out into the Indian Ocean, far beyond sight of land! Here for eighteen days the unfortunate crew were buffeted about; until they were picked up by a French ship, almost under the equinoctial line, many hundreds of miles from the channel they had thus involuntarily discovered! The sad part of the story remains to be told. When relieved by the French vessel, the two Europeans and three of the Lascars were still living; the other three Lascars had disappeared. Shocking to relate, they had been killed and eaten by their companions! The convict settlement above mentioned was carried on only for a few years, and then abandoned,--in consequence of the unhealthiness of the climate, by which the Sepoy guards of the establishment perished in great numbers. Notwithstanding this, the Andaman Islands present a very attractive aspect. A ridge of mountains runs nearly throughout their whole extent, rising in some places to a height of between two and three thousand feet. These mountains are covered to their tops by dense forests, that might be called primeval,--since no trace of clearing or cultivation is to be found on the whole surface of the islands; nor has any ever existed within the memory of man, excepting that of the convict settlement referred to. Some of the forest trees are of great size and height; and numerous species are intermixed. Mangroves line the shores; and prickly ferns and wild rattans form an impenetrable brake on the sides of the hills; bamboos are also common, and the "gambier" or "cutch" tree (_Agathis_), from which is extracted the _Terra Japonica_ of commerce. There are others that yield dyes, and a curious species of screw-pine (_pandanus_),--known as the "Nicobar breadfruit." Notwithstanding their favourable situation, the zoology of these islands is extremely limited in species. The only quadrupeds known to exist upon them are wild hogs, dogs, and rats; and a variety of the monkey tribe inhabits the forests of the interior. The land-birds are few,-- consisting of pigeons, doves, small parrots, and the Indian crow; while hawks are seen occasionally hovering over the trees; and a species of humming-bird flies about at night, uttering a soft cry that resembles the cooing of doves. There are owls of several species; and the cliffs that front the coast are frequented by a singular swallow,--the _hirundo esculenta_, whose nests are eaten by the wealthy mandarins of China. Along the shores there are gulls, kingfishers, and other aquatic birds. A large lizard of the _guana_ species is common, with several others; and a green snake, of the most venomous description, renders it dangerous to penetrate the jungle thickets that cover the whole surface of the country. In all these matters there is not much that is remarkable,--if we accept the extreme paucity of the zoology; and this is really a peculiarity,-- considering that the Andaman Islands lie within less than eighty leagues of the Burman territory, a country so rich in mammalia; considering, too, that they are covered with immense forests, almost impenetrable to human beings, on account of their thick intertwining of underwood and parasitical plants,--the very home, one would suppose for wild beasts of many kinds! And withal we find only three species of quadrupeds, and these small ones, thinly distributed along the skirts of the forest. In truth, the Andaman Islands and their _fauna_ have long been a puzzle to the zoologist. But longer still, and to a far greater extent, have their human inhabitants perplexed the ethnologist; and here we arrive at the true peculiarity of the Andaman Islands,--that is to say, the _people_ who inhabit them. With perhaps no exception, these people are the most truly savage of any on the face of the globe; and this has been their character from the earliest times: for they have been known to the ancients as far back as the time of Ptolemy. Ptolemy mentions them under the title of _anthropophagi_ (man-eaters); and the Arabs of the ninth century, who navigated the Indian Ocean, have given a similar account of them. Marco Polo adopts this statement, and what is still more surprising, one of the most noted ethnologists of our own time--Dr Latham--has given way to a like credulity, and puts the poor Andamaners down as "pagan cannibals." It is an error: they are not cannibals in any sense of the word; and if they have ever eaten human flesh,--of which there is no proof,--it has been when impelled by famine. Under like circumstances, some of every nation on earth have done the same,-- Englishmen, Germans, Frenchmen, Americans,--of late years frequently,-- in the mountains of New Mexico and California. The charge of cannibalism against these miserable beings rests on no other foundation than the allegations of Chinese sailors, and the vague statements of Ptolemy and the Arabs above mentioned. The Chinese have occasion now and then to visit the Andaman Islands in their junks, to collect the edible nests of the swallow (_hirundo esculenta_),--which birds have extensive breeding-places on the cliffs that overhang the coast of the Great Andaman. The "trepang," or sea-slug, is also found in large quantities upon the rocks near the shore; and this is equally an object of commerce, and esteemed an article of the greatest luxury, among the mandarins, and other rich celestials who can afford to indulge in it. Now and then, a junk has been wrecked among these rocks; and its miserable crew have fallen a victim to the hostility of the natives: just as they might have done on more civilised coasts, where no cannibalism was ever suspected to exist. Crews of junks have been totally destroyed,--murdered, if you please,--but it would not be difficult to show, that this was done more from motives of revenge than from a mere sanguinary instinct or disposition; but there is no proof whatever of, even a single case, of true cannibalism. Indeed there are strong reasons for our disbelief in this horrid custom,--so far as regards the poor savages of the Andamans. An incident, that seems to give a flat contradiction to it, occurred during the occupancy of the island by the East-India Company in the year 1793; and other proofs of non-cannibalism have been obtained at a still more recent period, to which we shall presently allude. The incident of 1793 was as follows: A party of fishers belonging to the settlement enticed an Andaman woman to come near, by holding out presents of food. The woman was made captive by these treacherous men; who, instead of relieving her hunger, proceeded to behave to her in the most brutal and unfeeling manner. The cries of the poor creature brought a numerous troop of her people to the spot; who, rushing out of the thickets from every side, collected around the fishermen; and, having attacked them with spears and arrows, succeeded in killing two of their number. The rest with difficulty escaped to the settlement; and, having obtained assistance, a large party set out to search for the bodies of their companions. There was but little expectation that these would be recovered: as all were under the belief that the savages must have carried them away for the purpose of making a cannibal feast upon them. There had been ample time for the removing of them: since the scene of the struggle was at a considerable distance from the fort. The searchers, therefore, were somewhat astonished at finding both bodies on the spot where they had fallen, and the enemy entirely gone from the ground! The bodies were disfigured in the most shocking manner. The flesh was pierced in every part,--by spears, no doubt,--and the bones had been pounded with heavy stones, until they were mashed into fragments; but not a bit of flesh was removed, not even an arm or limb had been severed! The other instance to which we have promised to allude occurred at a much more recent period,--so late, in fact, as the period of the King of Delhi's imprisonment. It will be fresh in the memory of my readers, that his Hindoo majesty was carried to the island of Great Andaman, along with a number of "Sepoy" rebels, who had been taken prisoners during the late Indian revolt. The convict settlement was restored, especially for this purpose; and a detachment of "East-India Company's troops" was sent along with the rebel sepoys to guard them. It was supposed that the troops would have great difficulty in the performance of their duty: since the number of their prisoners was larger than could be fairly looked after; and, it was well-known, that, if a prisoner could once get clear of the walls of the fort, it would be altogether idle to pursue him. The chase after a fugitive through the tangled forests of the Andamans would be emphatically a "wild-goose" chase; and there would be ten chances to one against his being recaptured. Such, in reality, did it appear, for the first week or two, after the settlement was re-established. Numerous prisoners escaped into the woods, and as it was deemed idle to follow them, they were given up as "lost birds." In the end, however, it proved that they were not all lost,--though some of them were. After a week or two had expired, they began to straggle back to the fort, and voluntarily deliver themselves up to their old guards,--now one, now another, or two or three at a time,--but all of them in the most forlorn and deplorable condition. They had enjoyed a little, liberty on the Andaman isles; but a taste of it had proved sufficient to satisfy them that captivity in a well-rationed guard-house was even preferable to freedom with a hungry stomach, added to the risk which they ran every hour of the day of being impaled upon the spears of the savages. Many of them actually met with this fate; and others only escaped half dead from the hostile treatment they had received at the hands of the islanders. There was no account, however, that any of them had been _eaten_,--no evidence that their implacable enemies were cannibals. Such are a few arguments that seem to controvert the accusation of Ptolemy and the two Arab merchants,--in whose travels the statement is found, and afterwards copied by the famous Marco Polo. Probably the Arabs obtained their idea from Ptolemy, Marco Polo from the Arabs, and Dr Latham from Marco Polo. Indeed, it is by no means certain that Ptolemy meant the Andaman Islands by his _Islae bonae Fortunae_, or "Good-luck Isles,"--certainly a most inappropriate appellation. He may have referred to Sumatra and its Battas,--who _are_ cannibals beyond a doubt. And, after all, what could Ptolemy know about the matter except from vague report, or, more likely still, more vague _speculation_,--a process of reasoning practised in Ptolemy's time, just as at the present day. We are too ready to adopt the errors of the ancient writers,--as if men were more infallible then than they are now; and, on the other hand, we are equally prone to incredulity,--often rejecting their testimony when it would conduct to truth. I believe there is no historic testimony--ancient or modern--before us, to prove that the Andaman islanders are cannibals; and yet, with all the testimony to the contrary, there is one fact, or rather a hypothesis, which shall be presently adduced, that would point to the _probability_ of their being so. If they are not cannibals, however, they are not the less unmitigated _savages_, of the very lowest grade and degree. They are unacquainted with almost the very humblest arts of social life; and are not even so far advanced in the scale as to have an organisation. In this respect they are upon a par with the Bushmen of Africa and the Diggers of North America: still more do they resemble the wretched starvelings of Tierra del Fuego. They have no tribal tie; but dwell in scattered groups or gangs,--just as monkeys or other animals of a gregarious nature. In person, the Andaman is one of the very "ugliest" of known savages. He is of short stature, attaining to the height of only five feet; and his wife is a head shorter than himself. Both are as black as pitch, could their natural colour be discovered; but the skin is usually hidden under a mask of rare material, which we shall presently have occasion to describe. The upper half of the Andamaner's body is strongly and compactly built, and his arms are muscular enough. It is below, in the limbs, where he is most lacking in development. His legs are osseous and thin; and, only when he is in fine condition, is there the slightest swell on them that would indicate the presence of a calf. His feet are of monstrous length, and without any symmetry,--the heel projecting far backwards, in the fashion usually styled "lark-heeled." It is just possible that a good deal of practice, by running over mud-banks and quicksands in search of his shell-fish subsistence, may have added to the natural development of his pedal extremities; for there can be no longer any doubt, that like effects have been produced by such causes,--effects that are indeed, after all, more _natural_ than _artificial_. The Andamaner exhibits the protuberance of belly noticed among other savages, who lead a starving life; and his countenance is usually marked with an expression that betrays a mixture of ferocity and famine. It is worthy of remark, however, that though these stunted proportions are generally observable among the natives of the Andaman Islands, they do not appear to be universal. It is chiefly on the island of the Great Andaman that the most wretched of these savages are found. The Little Andaman seems to produce a better breed: since parties have been met with on this last-named island, in which many individuals were observed nearly six feet in height, and stout in proportion. One of these parties, and the incident of meeting with it, are thus described by an officer who was present:-- "We had not gone far, when, at an angle of the jungle, which covers the island to within a few yards of the water's edge, we came suddenly upon a party of the natives, lying upon their bellies behind the bushes, armed with spears, arrows, and long-bows, which they bent at us in a threatening manner. Our Lascars, as soon as they saw them, fell back in great consternation, levelling their muskets and running into the sea towards the boats. It was with great difficulty we could prevent our cowardly rascals from firing; the tyndal was the only one who stood by the chief mate and myself. We advanced within a few paces of the natives, and made signs of drinking, to intimate the purpose of our visit. The tyndal salaamed to them, according to the different oriental modes of salutation,--he spoke to them in Malay, and other languages; but they returned no answer, and continued in their crouching attitude, pointing their weapons at us whenever we turned. I held out my handkerchief but they would not come from behind the bushes to take it. I placed it upon the ground; and we returned, in order to allow them an opportunity of picking it up: still they would not move. "I counted sixteen strong and able-bodied men opposite to us, many of them very lusty; and further on, six more. They were very different in appearance from what the natives of the Great Andaman are represented to be,--that is, of a puny race. The whole party was completely naked, with the exception of one,--a stout man nearly six feet in height, who was standing up along with two or three women in the rear. He wore on his head a red cloth with white spots. "They were the most ferocious and wild-looking beings I ever beheld. Those parts of their bodies that were not besmeared with mud, were of a sooty black colour. Their faces seemed to be painted with a red ochre." Notwithstanding the difference in stature and other respects,--the result no doubt of a better condition of existence,--the inhabitants of both islands, Great and Little Andaman, are the same race of people; and in the portrait, the faces of both may be considered as one and the same. This brings us to the strangest fact in the whole history of the Andaman islander. Instead of a Hindoo face, or a Chinese Mongolian face, or that of a Malay,--any of which we might reasonably expect to find in an aboriginal of the Bay of Bengal,--we trace in the Andaman islander the true physiognomy of a negro. Not only have we the flat nose and thick lips, but the curly hair, the sooty complexion, and all the other negro characteristics. And the most ill-favoured variety at that; for, in addition to the ungraceful features already mentioned, we find a head large beyond all proportion, and a pair of small, red eyes deeply sunken in their sockets. Truly the Andaman islander has few pretensions to being a beauty! Wretched, however, as the Andaman islander may appear, and of little importance as he certainly is in the great social family of the human race, he is, ethnologically speaking, one of its most interesting varieties. From the earliest times he has been a subject of speculation, or rather his presence in that particular part of the world where he is now found: for, since it is the general belief that he is entirely isolated from the two acknowledged negro races, and surrounded by other types of the human family, far different from either, the wonder is how he came to be there. Perhaps no other two thousand people on earth--for that is about the number of Andaman islanders--have been honoured with a greater amount of speculation in regard to their origin. Some ethnologists assign to them an African origin, and account for their presence upon the Andaman Islands by a singular story: that a Portuguese ship laden with African slaves, and proceeding to the Indian colonies, was wrecked in the Bay of Bengal, and, of course, off the coast of the Andamans: that the crew were murdered by the slaves; who, set free by this circumstance, became the inhabitants of the island. This story is supported by the argument, that the hostility which the natives now so notoriously exhibit, had its origin in a spirit of revenge: that still remembering the cruel treatment received on the "middle passage" at the hands of their Portuguese masters, they have resolved never to be enslaved again; but to retaliate upon the white man, whenever he may fall into their power! Certainly the circumstances would seem to give some colour to the tale, if it had any foundation; but it has none. Were we to credit it, it would be necessary to throw Ptolemy and the Arab merchants overboard, and Marco Polo to boot. All these have recorded the existence of the Andaman islanders, long before ever a Portuguese keel cleft the waters of the Indian Ocean,--long even before Di Gama doubled the Cape! But without either the aid of Ptolemy or the testimony of the Arabian explorers, it can be established that the Andaman Islands were inhabited before the era of the Portuguese in India; and by the same race of savages as now dwell upon them. Another theory is that it was an _Arabian_ slave-ship that was wrecked, and not a Portuguese; and this would place the peopling of the islands at a much earlier period. There is no positive fact, however, to support this theory,--which, like the other, rests only on mere speculation. The error of these hypotheses lies in their mistaken _data_; for, although, we have stated that the Andaman islanders are undoubtedly a negro race, they are not that negro race to which the speculation points,--in other words, they are not _African_ negroes. Beyond certain marked features, as the flat nose and thick lips, they have nothing in common with these last. Their hair is more of the kind called "frizzly," than of the "woolly" texture of that of the Ethiopian negro; and in this respect they assimilate closely to the "Papuan," or New Guinea "negrillo," which every one knows is a very different being from the _African_ negro. Their moral characteristics--such as there has been an opportunity of observing among them--are also an additional proof that they are not of African origin; while these point unmistakably to a kinship with the other side of the Indian Ocean. Even some of their fashions, as we shall presently have occasion to notice, have a like tendency to confirm the belief that the Andaman is a "negrillo," and not a "negro." The only obstacle to this belief has hitherto been the fact of their isolated situation: since it is alleged--rather hastily as we shall see--that the whole of the opposite continent of the Burmese and other empires, is peopled by races entirely distinct: that none of the adjacent islands--the Nicobars and Sumatra--have any negro or negrillo inhabitants: and that the Andamaners are thus cut off, as it were, from any possible line of migration which they could have followed in entering the Bay of Bengal. Ethnologists, however, seem to have overlooked the circumstance that this allegation is not strictly true. The _Samangs_--a tribe inhabiting the mountainous parts of the Malayan peninsula--are also a negro or negrillo race; a fact which at once establishes a link in the chain of a supposed migration from the great Indian archipelago. This lets the Andaman islander into the Great China Sea; or rather, coming from that sea, it forms the stepping-stone to his present residence in the Bay of Bengal. Who can say that he was not at one time the owner of the Malayan peninsula? How can we account for the strange fact, that figures of Boodh--the Guadma of the Burmese and Siamese--are often seen in India beyond the Ganges, delineated with the curly hair and other characteristic features of the negro? The theory that the Samang and Andaman islander once ruled the Malay peninsula; that they themselves came from eastward,--from the great islands of the Melanesian group, the centre and source of the negrillo race,--will in some measure account for this singular monumental testimony. The probability, moreover, is always in favour of a migration westward within the tropics. Beyond the tropics, the rule is sometimes reversed. A coincidence of personal habit, between the Andaman islander and the Melanesian, is also observed. The former dyes his head of a brown or reddish colour,--the very fashion of the Feegee! Suppose, then, that the Samang and Andaman islander came down the trades, at a period too remote for even tradition to deal with it: suppose they occupied the Malay peninsula, no matter how long; and that at a much more recent period, they were pushed out of place,--the one returning to the Andaman Islands, the other to the mountains of the Quedah: suppose also that the party pushing them off were Malays,--who had themselves been drifted for hundreds of years down the trades from the far shores of America (for this is _our_ "speculation"): suppose all these circumstances to have taken place, and you will be able to account for two facts that have for a long time puzzled the ethnologist. One is the presence of negroes on the islands of Andaman,--and the other of Malays in the south-eastern corner of Asia. We might bring forward many arguments to uphold the probability of these hypotheses, had we space and time. Both, however, compel us to return to the more particular subject of our sketch; and we shall do so after having made a remark, promised above, and which relates to the _probability_ of the Andaman islander being a cannibal. This, then, _would lie in the fact of his being a Papuan negro_. And yet, again, it is only a seeming; for it might be shown that with the Papuan cannibalism is not a natural instinct. It is only where he has reached a high degree of _civilisation_, as in the case of the Feegee islander. Call the latter a monster if you will; but, as may be learnt from our account of him, he is anything but a _savage_, in the usual acceptation of the term. In fact, language has no epithet sufficiently vile to characterise such an anomalous animal as he. I have endeavoured to clear the Andaman islander of the charge of this guilt; and, since appearances are so much against him, he ought to feel grateful. It is doubtful whether he would, should this fall into his hands, and he be able to read it. The portrait of his face without that stain upon it, he might regard as ugly enough; and that of his habits, which now follows, is not much more flattering. His house is little better than the den of a wild beast; and far inferior in ingenuity of construction to those which beavers build. A few poles stuck in the ground are leant towards each other, and tied together at the top. Over these a wattle of reeds and rattan-leaves forms the roof; and on the floor a "shake-down" of withered leaves makes his bed, or, perhaps it should rather be called his "lair." This, it will be perceived, is just the house built by Diggers, Bushmen, and Fuegians. There are no culinary utensils,--only a drinking-cup of the _nautilus_ shell; but implements of war and the chase in plenty: for such are found even amongst the lowest of savages. They consist of bows, arrows, and a species of javelin or dart. The bows are very long, and made of the bamboo cane,--as are also the darts. The arrows are usually pointed with the tusks of the small wild hogs which inhabit the islands. These they occasionally capture in the chase, hanging up the skulls in their huts as trophies and ornaments. With strings of the hog's teeth also they sometimes ornament their bodies; but they are not very vain in this respect. Sometimes pieces of iron are found among them,--nails flattened to form the blades of knives, or to make an edge for their adzes, the heads of which are of hard wood. These pieces of iron they have no doubt obtained from wrecked vessels, or in the occasional intercourse which they have had with the convict establishment; but there is no regular commerce with them,--in fact, no commerce whatever,--as even the Malay traders, that go everywhere, do not visit the Andamaners, from dread of their well-known Ishmaelitish character. Some of the communities, more forward in civilisation, possess articles of more ingenious construction,--such as baskets to hold fruits and shell-fish, well-made bows, and arrows with several heads, for shooting fish. The only other article they possess of their own manufacture, is a rude kind of canoe, hollowed out of the trunk of a tree, by means of fire and their poor adze. A bamboo raft, of still ruder structure, enables them to cross the narrow bays and creeks by which their coast is indented. Their habitual dwelling-place is upon the shore. They rarely penetrate the thick forests of the interior, where there is nothing to tempt them: for the wild hog, to which they sometimes give chase, is found only along the coasts where the forest is thinner and more straggling, or among the mangrove-bushes,--on the fruits of which these animals feed. Strange to say, the forest, though luxuriant in species, affords but few trees that bear edible fruits. The cocoa-palm--abundant in all other parts of the East-Indian territories, and even upon the Cocos Islands, that lie a little north of the Andamans--does not grow upon these mountain islands. Since the savages know nothing of cultivation, of course their dependence upon a vegetable diet would be exceedingly precarious. A few fruits and roots are eaten by them. The pandanus, above mentioned, bears a fine cone-shaped fruit, often weighing between thirty and forty pounds; and this, under the name of _mellori_, or "Nicobar breadfruit," forms part of their food. But it requires a process of cooking, which, being quite unknown to the Andamaners, must make it to them a "bitter fruit" even when roasted in the ashes of their fires, which is their mode of preparing it. They eat also the fruit of the mangrove, and of some other trees--but these are not obtainable at all seasons, or in such quantity as to afford them a subsistence. They depend principally upon fish, which they broil in a primitive manner over a gridiron of bamboos, sometimes not waiting till they are half done. They especially subsist upon shell-fish, several kinds abounding on their coasts, which they obtain among the rocks after the tide has gone out. To gather these is the work of the women, while the men employ themselves in fishing or in the chase of the wild hog. The species of shell-fish most common are the _murex tribulus, trochus telescopium, cypraea caurica_, and mussels. They are dexterous in capturing other fish with their darts, which they strike down upon the finny prey, either from their rafts, or by wading up to their knees in the water. They also take fish by torchlight,--that is, by kindling dry grass, the blaze of which attracts certain species into the shallow water, where the fishers stand in wait for them. When the fishery fails them, and the oysters and muscles become scarce, they are often driven to sad extremities, and will then eat anything that will sustain life,--lizards, insects, worms,--perhaps even _human flesh_. They are not unfrequently in such straits; and instances are recorded, where they have been found lying upon the shore in the last stages of starvation. An instance of this kind is related in connection with the convict settlement of 1793. A coasting-party one day discovered two Andamaners lying upon the beach. They were at first believed to be dead, but as it proved, they were only debilitated from hunger: being then in the very last stages of famine. They were an old man and a boy; and having been carried at once to the fort, every means that humanity could suggest was used to recover them. With the boy this result was accomplished; but the old man could not be restored: his strength was too far gone; and he died, shortly after being brought to the settlement. Two women or young girls were also found far gone with hunger; so far, that a piece of fish held out was sufficient to allure them into the presence of a boat's crew that had landed on the shore. They were taken on board the ship, and treated with the utmost humanity. In a short time they got rid of all fears of violence being offered them; but seemed, at the same time, to be sensible of modesty to a great degree. They had a small apartment allotted to them; and though they could hardly have had any real cause for apprehension, yet it was remarked that the two never went to sleep at the same time: one always kept watch while the other slept! When time made them more familiar with the good intentions towards them, they became exceedingly cheerful, chattered with freedom, and were amused above all things at the sight of their own persons in a mirror. They allowed clothes to be put on them; but took them off again, whenever they thought they were not watched, and threw them away as a useless encumbrance! They were fond of singing; sometimes in a melancholy recitative, and sometimes in a lively key; and they often gave exhibitions of dancing around the deck, in the fashion peculiar to the Andamans. They would not drink either wine or any spirituous liquor; but were immoderately fond of fish and sugar. They also ate rice when it was offered to them. They remained, or rather were retained, several weeks on board the ship; and had become so smooth and plump, under the liberal diet they indulged in, that they were scarce recognisable as the half-starved creatures that had been brought aboard so recently. It was evident, however, that they were not contented. Liberty, even with starvation allied to it, appeared sweeter to them than captivity in the midst of luxury and ease. The result proved that this sentiment was no stranger to them: for one night, when all but the watchman were asleep, they stole silently through the captain's cabin, jumped out of the stern windows into the sea, and swam to an island full half a mile distant from the ship! It was thought idle to pursue them; but, indeed, there was no intention of doing so. The object was to retain them by kindness, and try what effect might thus be produced on their wild companions, when they should return to them. Strange to say, this mode of dealing with the Andaman islanders has been made repeatedly, and always with the same fruitless result. Whatever may have been the original cause that interrupted their intercourse with the rest of mankind, they seem determined that this intercourse shall never be renewed. When plenty reigns among them, and there has been a good take of fish, they act like other starved wretches; and yield themselves up to feasting and gorging, till not a morsel remains. At such times they give way to excessive mirth,--dancing for hours together, and chattering all the while like as many apes. They are extremely fond of "tripping it on the light fantastic toe;" and their dance is peculiar. It is carried on by the dancers forming a ring, and leaping about, each at intervals saluting his own posteriors with a slap from his foot,--a feat which both the men and women perform with great dexterity. Not unfrequently this mode of salutation is passed from one to the other, around the the whole ring,--causing unbounded merriment among the spectators. Their fashion of dress is, perhaps, the most peculiar of all known costumes. As to clothing, they care nothing about it,--the females only wearing a sort of narrow fringe around the waist,--not from motives of modesty, but simply as an ornament; and in this scant garment we have a resemblance to the _liku_ of the Feegeeans. It can hardly be said, however, that either men or women go entirely naked; for each morning, after rising from his couch of leaves, the Andamaner plasters the whole of his body with a thick coat of mud, which he wears throughout the day. Wherever this cracks from getting dry by the sun, the place is patched or mended up with a fresh layer. The black mop upon his head is not permitted to wear its natural hue; but, as already mentioned, is coloured by means of a red ochreous earth, which is found in plenty upon the islands. This reddening of his poll is the only attempt which the Andamaner makes at personal adornment; for his livery of mud is assumed for a purpose of utility,--to protect his body from the numerous mosquitoes, and other biting insects, whose myriads infest the lowland coast upon which he dwells. A startling peculiarity of these islanders is the unmitigated hostility which they exhibit, and have always exhibited, towards every people with whom they have, come in contact. It is not the white man alone whom they hate and harass; but they also murder the Malay, whose skin is almost as dark as their own. This would seem to contradict the hypothesis of a tradition of hostility preserved amongst them, and directed against white men who enslaved their ancestors; but, indeed, that story has been sufficiently refuted. A far more probable cause of their universal hatred is, that, at some period of their history, they have been grossly abused; so much so as to render suspicion and treachery almost an instinct of their nature. In these very characteristic moral features we find another of those striking analogies that would seem to connect them with the negrillo races of the Eastern Archipelago; but, whether they are or are not connected with them, their appearance upon the Andaman is no greater mystery, than the solitary "fox-wolf" on the Falkland Islands, or the smallest wingless insect in some lone islet of the Ocean? CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. Who has not heard of the _giants_ of Patagonia? From the days of Magellan, when they were first seen, many a tale has been told, and many a speculation indulged in about these colossal men: some representing them as very Titans, of twelve feet in height, and stout in proportion: that, when standing a little astride, an ordinary-sized man could pass between their legs without even stooping his head! So talked the early navigators of the Great South Sea. Since the time when these people were first seen by Europeans, up to the present hour,--in all, three hundred and thirty years ago,--it is astonishing how little has been added to our knowledge of them; the more so, that almost every voyager who has since passed through the Straits of Magellan, has had some intercourse with them;--the more so, that Spanish people have had settlements on the confines of their country; and one--an unsuccessful one, however--in the very heart of it! But these Spanish settlements have all decayed, or are fast decaying; and when the Spanish race disappears from America,--which sooner or later it will most certainly do,--it will leave behind it a greater paucity of monumental record, than perhaps any civilised nation ever before transmitted to posterity. Little, however, as we have learnt about the customs of the Patagonian people, we have at least obtained a more definite idea of their height. _They have been measured_. The twelve-feet giants can no longer be found; they never existed, except in the fertile imaginations of some of the old _navigators_,--whose embodied testimony, nevertheless, it is difficult to disbelieve. Other and more reliable witnesses have done away with the Titans; but still we are unable to reduce the stature of the Patagonians to that of ordinary men. If not actual _giants_, they are, at all events, very tall men,--many of them standing seven feet in their boots of guanaco-leather, few less than six, and a like few rising nearly to eight! These measurements are definite and certain; and although the whole number of the Indians that inhabit the plains of Patagonia may not reach the above standard there are tribes of smaller men called by the common name Patagonians,--yet many individuals certainly exist who come up to it. If not positive giants, then, it is safe enough to consider the Patagonians as among the "tallest" of human beings,--perhaps the very tallest that exist, or ever existed, upon the face of the earth; and for this reason, if for no other, they are entitled to be regarded as an "odd people." But they have other claims to this distinction; for their habits and customs, although in general corresponding to those of other tribes of American Indians, present us with many points that are peculiar. It may be remarked that the Patagonian women, although not so tall as their men, are in the usual proportion observable between the sexes. Many of them are more corpulent than the men; and if the latter be called _giants_, the former have every claim to the appellation of _giantesses_! We have observed, elsewhere, the very remarkable difference between the two territories, lying respectively north and south of the Magellan Straits,--the Patagonian on the north, and the Fuegian on the south. No two lands could exhibit a greater contrast than these,--the former with its dry sterile treeless plains,--the latter almost entirely without plains; and, excepting a portion of its eastern end, without one level spot of an acre in breadth; but a grand chaos of humid forest-clad ravines and snow-covered mountains. Yet these two dissimilar regions are only separated by a narrow sea-channel,--deep, it is true; but so narrow, that a cannon-shot may be projected from one shore to the other. Not less dissimilar are the people who inhabit these opposite shores; and one might fancy a strange picture of contrast presented in the Straits of Magellan: on some projecting bluff on the northern shore, a stalwart Patagonian, eight feet in height, with his ample guanaco skin floating from his shoulders, and his long spear towering ten feet above his head;--on the southern promontory, the dwarfed and shrivelled figure of a Fuegian,--scarce five feet tall,--with tiny bow and arrows in hand, and shivering under his patch of greasy sealskin!--and yet so near each other, that the stentorian voice of the giant may thunder in the ears of the dwarf; while the henlike cackle of the latter may even reach those of his colossal _vis-a-vis_! Notwithstanding this proximity, there is no converse between them; for, unlike as are their persons, they are not more dissimilar than their thoughts, habits, and actions. The one is an aquatic animal, the other essentially terrestrial; and, strange to say, in this peculiarity the weaker creature has the advantage: since the Fuegian can cross in his bark canoe to the territory of his gigantic neighbour, while the latter has no canoe nor water-craft of any kind, and therefore never thinks of extending his excursions to the "land of fire," excepting at one very narrow place where he has effected a crossing. In many other respects, more particularly detailed elsewhere,--in their natural dispositions and modes of life, these two peoples are equally dissimilar; and although learned craniologists may prove from their skulls, that both belong to one division of the human family, this fact proves also that craniology, like anatomy, is but a blind guide in the illustration of scientific truth,--whether the subject be the skull of a man or an animal. Despite all the revelations of craniologic skill, an Indian of Patagonia bears about the same resemblance to an Indian of Tierra del Fuego, as may be found between a bull and a bluebottle! Before proceeding to describe the modes of life practised by the Patagonian giants, a word or two about the country they inhabit. It may be generally described as occupying the whole southern part of South America,--from the frontier of the Spanish settlements to the Straits of Magellan,--and bounded east and west by the two great oceans. Now, the most southern Spanish (Buenos-Ayrean) settlement is at the mouth of Rio Negro; therefore, the Rio Negro--which is the largest river south of the La Plata--may be taken as the northern boundary of Patagonia. Not that the weak, vitiated Spanish-American extends his sway from the Atlantic to the Andes: on the contrary, the Indian aborigines, under one name or another, are masters of the whole interior,--not only to the north of the Rio Negro, but to the very shores of the Caribbean Sea! Yes, the broad inland of South America, from Cape Horn to the sea of the Antilles, is now, as it always has been, the domain of the Red Indian; who, so far from having ever been reduced by conquest, has not only resisted the power of the Spanish sword, and the blandishments of the Spanish cross; but at this hour is encroaching, with constant and rapid strides, upon the blood-stained territory wrested from him by that _Christian conquest_! And this is the man who is so rapidly to disappear from the face of the earth! If so, it is not the puny Spaniard who is destined to push him off. If he is to disappear, it will be at such a time, that no Spaniard will be living to witness his extermination. Let us take Patagonia proper, then, as bordered upon the north by the Rio Negro, and extending from the Atlantic to the Pacific. In that case it is a country of eight hundred miles in length, with a breadth of at least two hundred,--a country larger than either France or Spain. Patagonia is usually described as a continuation of the great plains, known as the "Pampas," which extend from the La Plata River to the eastern slope of the Andes. This idea is altogether erroneous. It is true that Patagonia is a country of plains,--excepting that portion of it occupied by the Andes, which is, of course, a mountain tract, much of it resembling Tierra del Fuego in character more than Patagonia. Indeed, Patagonia proper can hardly be regarded as including this mountain strip: since the Patagonian Indians only inhabit the plains properly so called. These plains differ essentially from those of the Pampas. The latter are based upon a calcareous formation: and produce a rank, rich herbage,--here of gigantic thistles and wild artichokes,-- there of tall grasses; and, still nearer the mountains, they are thinly covered with copses of low trees. The plains of Patagonia on the other hand, are of tertiary formation, covered all over with a shingly pebble of porphyry and basalt, and almost destitute of vegetation. Here and there are some tufts of scanty grass with a few stunted bushes in the valleys of the streams, but nothing that can be called a tree. A surface drear and arid, in places mottled with "salinas" or salt lakes; with fresh water only found at long intervals, and, when found, of scanty supply. There are many hilly tracts, but nothing that can be called mountains,--excepting the snow-covered Cordilleras in the west. The Patagonian plain is not everywhere of equal elevation: it rises by steps, as you follow it westward, beginning from the sea-level of the Atlantic shore; until, having reached the _piedmont_ of the Andes, you still find yourself on a plain, but one which is elevated three thousand feet above the point from which you started. At all elevations, however, it presents the same sterile aspect; and you perceive that Patagonia is a true desert,--as much so as Atacama, in Peru, the desert of the Colorado in the north, the "barren grounds" of Hudson's Bay, the Sahara and Kalahari, Gobi, or the steppe of Kaurezm. To the South-African deserts it bears a more striking resemblance than to any of the others,--a resemblance heightened by the presence of that most remarkable of birds,--the ostrich. Two species stalk over the plains of Patagonia,--the _struthio rhea_ and _struthio Darwinii_. The former extends northward over the Pampas, but not southward to the Straits of Magellan; the latter reaches the Straits, but is never seen upon the Pampas. The ranges of both meet and overlap near the middle of the Patagonian plain. In addition to the ostrich, there are other large birds that frequent the steppes of Patagonia. The great condor here crosses the continent, and appears upon the Atlantic shores. He perches upon the cliffs of the sea,--as well as those that overhang the inland streams,--and builds his nest upon the bare rock. Two species of _polyborus_, or vulture-eagles,--the "carrancha" and "chiniango,"--fly side by side with the condor; and the black turkey-vultures are also denizens of this desert land. The red puma, too, has his home here; the fox of Azara; and several species of hawks and eagles. With the exception of the first-mentioned--the ostrich--all these beasts and birds are predatory creatures; and require flesh for their subsistence. Where do they get it? Upon what do they all prey? Surely not upon the ostrich: since this bird is bigger than any of the birds of prey, and able to defend itself even against the great condor. There are only one or two other species of birds upon which the eagles might subsist,--a partridge and two kinds of plover; but the vultures could not get a living out of partridges and plovers. Small quadrupeds are alike scarce. There are only two or three species; and very small creatures they are,--one a sort of mole, "terutero," and several kinds of mice. The latter are, indeed, numerous enough in some places,-- swarming over the ground in tracts so sterile, that it is difficult to understand upon what they subsist. But vultures do not relish food, which they require to kill for themselves. They are too indolent for that; and wherever they are found, there must be some source of supply,--some large quadrupeds to provide them with their favourite food,--carrion. Otherwise, in this desert land, how should the ravenous puma maintain himself?--how the vultures and vulture-eagles? and, above all, upon what does the Patagonian himself subsist,--a man of such great bulk, as naturally to require more than the ordinary amount of food? The answer to all these questions, then, is, that a quadruped _does_ exist in the deserts of Patagonia; which, if it furnish not all these creatures with their full diet supplies, does a large proportion of it. This quadruped is the _guanaco_. Before proceeding to give an account of the guanaco, let us paint the portrait of the Patagonian himself. As already observed, he is nearly seven feet in height, without any exaggeration in the way of a hat. He wears none, but suffers his long black hair to hang loosely over his shoulders, or, more frequently, gathers it into a knot or club upon the crown of his head. To keep it from straggling into his eyes, he usually wears a narrow strap of guanaco skin around his forehead, or a plaited band of the hair of the same animal; but, although possessing ostrich-feathers at discretion, he rarely indulges in the fashion of wearing a plume,--he knows he is tall enough without one. Over his shoulders, and hanging nearly to his heels, he wears a loose mantle of guanaco skins; which is of sufficient width to wrap round his body, and meet over his breast,--should he feel cold enough to require it. But he is not of a chilly nature; and he often throws this mantle entirely aside to give him the freedom of his arms; or more generally ties a girdle round it, and leaves the upper part to fall back from his shoulders, and hang down over the girdle. This mantle--with the exception of a small pouch-like apron in front--is the only "garment," the Patagonian wears upon his body; but his lower limbs have a covering of their own. These are encased in a sort of boots or mocassins,--but differing from all other boots and mocassins, in the fact of their being without _soles_! They are made of the same material as the mantle,--that is, of the skin of the _guanaco_,--but sometimes also of the skin of a horse's shank,--for the Patagonian, like the Pampas Indian, is in possession of this valuable animal. This soleless boot covers the leg all round from below the knee, passing over the top of the foot like a gaiter; it extends also around the heel, and a little under it, but not so far as the instep, thus leaving the greater part of the sole bare, and the toes peeping out in front! They are, in reality, nothing more or less than gaiters, but gaiters of _guanaco skin_, with the hair turned outward, and worn, not over a pair of boots or shoes, as gaiters usually are, but upon the naked shanks. I have been thus particular in my description of the Patagonian _chaussure_; but you will understand my reasons, when I tell you that, from this trifling circumstance, not only has a vast territory of country, but the people who inhabit it, obtained the appellation by which both have long been known to the civilised world, that is, _Patagonian_. When the sailors who accompanied Magellan first saw these colossal men, they noticed a peculiar circumstance in relation to their feet. The flaps, or "uppers," of the gaiters, extending loosely across the tops of their feet, and exaggerated in breadth by the long hair that fringed out from their edges, gave to these Indians the appearance of having paws or "patas;" and the name _patagones_, or "duck-feet," was given them by the sailors,--ever prone to the bestowal of a ludicrous epithet. This name, in a slightly altered form, they have borne ever since,--so that Patagonia means the country of the _duck-footed_ men. The gaiters of the Patagonians have their peculiar purpose. They are not worn merely for the sake of keeping the legs warm, but also as a protection against the thorny shrubs which in Patagonia, as in all desert lands, are exceedingly abundant. The mantle and mocassins, then, constitute the Patagonian's costume; and it does not differ so widely from that of his neighbour the Fuegian,-- the chief points of difference being in the size and material. Of course the guanaco skin is much larger than that of the common seal; and a good Patagonian cloak would furnish "doublets" for a whole tribe of the diminutive Fuegians. Perhaps his ample garment has something to do in producing the exaggerated accounts that have been given of the stature of the Patagonians. Certain it is, that a man thus apparelled, looks larger than he otherwise would do; and presents altogether a _more_ imposing appearance. The Caffre, in his civet-cat "kaross," and the Pawnee Indian, in his robe of shaggy buffalo-hide, loom very large upon karroo and prairie,--much larger in appearance than they really are. It is but natural, therefore, to suppose that the Patagonian, attired in his guanaco mantle, and seen against the sky, standing upon the summit of a conspicuous cliff, would present a truly gigantic appearance. When first seen in this position he was on foot. It was in the year 1520,--before the Spaniards had set foot upon South-American soil,--and of course before the horse became naturalised to that continent. In less than thirty years afterward, he appeared upon these same cliffs bestriding a steed: for this noble animal had extended his range over the plains of America,--even at an earlier period than his European owner. When the Spaniards, in their after-attempts at conquering the Indians of the Pampas and those of the northern prairies, entered upon these great plains, they encountered, to their great astonishment, their red enemies upon horseback, brandishing long lances, and managing fiery chargers with a skill equal to their own! Among the earliest tribes that obtained possession of the horse, were those of the Pampas: since the first of these animals that ran wild on the plains of America were those landed in the La Plata expedition of Mendoza,--whence they became scattered over the adjacent pampas of Buenos Ayres. From the banks of the La Plata, the horse passed rapidly southward to the Straits of Magellan; and from that hour the Patagonian walked no more. With the exception of a spur,--usually a sharp stick of wood, upon his heel,--the only additional article of his "wear," the horse has made no change in his costume, nor in the fashion of his toilet. He still paints his face, as Magellan first saw it,--with a white ring encircling one eye, and a black or red one around the other; with one half of his body coloured black, and a white sun delineated upon it, while the other half is white, forming the "ground" for a black moon! Scarce two individuals, however, wear the same escutcheon; for the fashion of having eyes, arms, and legs of two different colours--just as our ancestors used to wear their doublets and hose--is that followed by the Patagonians. Notwithstanding this queer custom,--usually regarded as savage,--it would be unjust to call the Patagonian a _savage_. If we overlook the circumstance of his painting himself,--which, after all, is scarce more absurd than numberless practices of civilised life,--if we excuse him for too scantily covering the nakedness of his person, and relishing his food a little "underdone," we find little else, either in his habits or his moral nature that would entitle him to be termed a savage. On the contrary, from all the testimony that can be obtained,--in all the intercourse which white men have had with him,--there is scarce an act recorded, that would hinder his claim to being considered as civilised as they. Honourable and amiable, brave and generous, he has ever proved himself; and never has he exhibited those traits of vindictive ferocity supposed to be characteristic of the untutored man. He has not even harboured malice for the wrongs done him by the unprincipled adventurer Magellan: who, in his treatment of these people, proved himself more of a savage than they. But the Patagonian restrained his vengeance; and apparently burying the outrage in oblivion, has ever since that time treated the white man with a generous and dignified friendship. Those who have been shipwrecked upon his solitary shores, have had no reason to complain of the treatment they have received at his hands. He is neither cannibal, nor yet barbarian,--but in truth a gentleman,--or, if you prefer it, a _gentleman savage_. But how does this gentleman maintain himself? We have already seen that he is not a fisherman,--for he owns no species of boat; and without that his chances of capturing fish would be slight and uncertain. We have stated, moreover, that his country is a sterile desert; and so it is,-- producing only the scantiest of herbage; neither plant, nor tree, that would furnish food; and incapable of being cultivated with any success. But he does not attempt cultivation,--he has no knowledge of it; nor is it likely he would feel the inclination, even if tempted by the most fertile soil. Neither is he pastoral in his habits: he has no flocks nor herds. The horse and dog are his only domestic animals; and these he requires for other purposes than food. The former enables him to pass easily over the wide tracts of his sterile land, and both assist him in the chase,--which is his true and only calling. One of the chief objects of his pursuit is the ostrich; and he eats the flesh of this fine desert bird. He eats it, whenever he can procure it; but he could not live solely upon such food: since he could not obtain it in sufficient quantity; and were this bird the only means he had for supplying his larder, he would soon be in danger of starvation. True, the ostrich lays a great many eggs, and brings forth a large brood of young; but there are a great many hungry mouths, and a great many large stomachs among the Patagonian people. The ostrich could never supply them all; and were it their only resource, the bird would soon disappear from the plains of Patagonia, and, perhaps, the race of Patagonian giants along with it. Fortunately for the Patagonian, his country furnishes him with another kind of game, from which he obtains a more sufficient supply; and that is the guanaco. Behold yonder herd of stately creatures! There are several hundreds of them in all. Their bodies are covered with long, woolly hair of a reddish-brown colour. If they had antlers upon their heads, you might mistake them for stags,--for they are just about the size of the male of the red deer. But they have no horns; and otherwise they are unlike these animals,--in their long slender necks, and coat of woolly hair. They are not deer of any kind,--they are _guanacos_. These, then, are the herds of the Patagonian Indian; they are the game he chiefly pursues; and their flesh the food, upon which he is mainly subsisted. I need not here give the natural history of the guanaco. Suffice it to say that it is one of the four (perhaps five) species of _llamas_ or "camel-sheep" peculiar to the continent of South America,--the other three of which are the _vicuna_, the true _llama_, and the _paco_, or _alpaca_. The llama and alpaca are domesticated; but the vicuna, the most graceful of all, exists only in a wild state, like the guanaco. The four kinds inhabit the tablelands of the Andes, from Colombia to Chili; but the guanaco has extended its range across to the Atlantic side of the continent: this only in the territory south of the La Plata River. On the plains of Patagonia it is the characteristic quadruped: rarely out of sight, and usually seen in herds of twenty or thirty individuals; but sometimes in large droves, numbering as many as five hundred. There the puma--after the Indian of course--is its greatest enemy,--and the _debris_ of _his_ feast constitutes the food of the vultures and vulture-eagles,--thus accounting for the presence of these great birds in such a desert land. The guanaco is among the shyest of quadrupeds; and its capture would be difficult to any one unacquainted with its habits. But these betray them to the skilled Patagonian hunter,--who is well acquainted with every fact in the natural history of the animal. The Patagonian mode of capturing these creatures is not without many peculiarities in hunting practice. His first care is to find out their whereabouts: for the haunts which the guanacos most affect are not the level plains, where they might be seen from afar, but rather those places where the ground is hilly or rolling. There they are to be met with, ranged in extended lines along the sides of the hills, with an old male keeping watch upon the summit of some eminence that overlooks the flock. Should the sentinel espy any danger, or even suspect it, he gives the alarm by uttering a shrill, whistling cry, somewhat resembling a neigh. On hearing this well-known signal, the others at once take to flight, and gallop straight for the side of some other hill,--where they all halt in line, and stand waiting to see if they are followed. Very often the first intimation which the hunter has of their presence, is by hearing their strange signal of flight,--which may be described as a sort of triangular cross between squealing, neighing, and whistling. Shy as they are, and difficult to be approached, they have the strange peculiarity of losing all their senses when put into confusion. On these occasions they behave exactly like a flock of sheep: not knowing which way to ran; now dashing to one side, then to the other, and often rushing into the very teeth of that danger from which they are trying to escape! Knowing their stupidity in this respect, the Patagonian hunter acts accordingly. He does not go out to hunt the guanacos alone, but in company with others of his tribe, the hunting-party often comprising the whole tribe. Armed with their "chuzos,"--light cane spears of eighteen feet in length,--and mounted on their well-trained steeds, they sally forth from their encampment, and proceed to the favourite pasturing-ground of the guanacos. Their purpose is, if possible, to effect the "surround" of a whole herd; and to accomplish this, it is necessary to proceed with great skill and caution. The animals are found at length; and, by means of a deployment of dogs and horsemen, are driven towards some hill which may be convenient to the pasture. The instinct of the animal guiding it thither, renders this part of the performance easy enough. On reaching the hill, the guanacos dash onward, up to its summit; and there, halting in a compact crowd, make front towards their pursuers. These meanwhile have galloped into a circle,--surrounding the eminence on all sides; and, advancing upwards amidst loud yells and the yelping of their dogs, close finally around the herd, and rush forward to the attack. The long chuzos do their work with rapidity; and, in a few minutes, numbers of the guanacos lie lifeless among the rocks. The dogs, with some men, form an outer circle of assailants; and should any guanacos escape through the line of horsemen, they are seized upon by the dogs, and pinned to the spot,--for it is another sheep-like trait in the character of this animal, that the moment a dog--even though he be the merest cur--seizes hold of it, it neither attempts further flight nor resistance, but remains "pinned" to the spot as if under a paralysis of terror. They sometimes give battle, however, though never to a dog; and their mode of assault is by kicking behind them,--not with their hoofs as horses do, but with the knee-joints, the hind legs being both raised at once. Among themselves the males fight terrible battles: biting each other with their teeth, and often inflicting cruel lacerations. Strange to say, when the guanacos are found solitary, or only two or three together, they are far less shy than when assembled in large herds. At such times, the feeling of curiosity seems stronger than that of fear within them; and the hunter can easily approach within a dozen paces of one, by simply cutting a few capers, or holding up something that may be new to it,--such as a strip of coloured rag, or some showy article of any kind. It was by such devices that the Patagonian captured these creatures, before possession of the horse enabled him to effect their destruction in the more wholesale fashion of the "surround." By tumbling about over the ground, he was enabled to bring the game within reach,--not of his bow and arrows; nor yet of his long spear,-- for he did not use it for such a purpose,--and, of course, not of a gun, for he never had heard of such a weapon. Within reach of what then? Of a weapon peculiarly his own,--a weapon of singular construction and deadly effect; which he knew how to employ before ever the white man came upon his shores, and which the Spaniards who dwell in the Pampas country have found both pride and profit in adopting. This weapon is the "bolas." It is simple and easily described. Two round stones,--the women make them round by grinding the one against the other,--two round stones are covered with a piece of guanaco raw hide, presenting very much the appearance of cricket-balls, though of unequal size,--one being considerably smaller than the other. Two thongs are cut; and one end of each is firmly attached to one of the balls. The other ends of the thongs are knotted to each other; and when the strings are at full stretch, the balls will then be about eight feet apart,--in other words, each thong should be four feet in length. The bolas are now made, and ready for use. The chief difficulty in their manufacture lies in the rounding of the stones; which, as above observed, is the work of the women; and at least two days are required to grind a pair of bola-stones to the proper spherical shape. To handle them requires long practice; and this the Patagonian has had: for, ever since the young giant was able to stand upon his feet, he has been in the habit of playing with the bolas. They have been the toy of his childhood; and to display skill in their management has been the pride of his boyish days; therefore, on arriving at full maturity, no wonder he exhibits great dexterity in their use. He can then project them to a distance of fifty yards,--with such precision as to strike the legs of either man or quadruped, and with such force, that the thong not only whips itself around the object struck, but often leaves a deep weal in the skin and flesh. The mode of throwing them is well-known. The right hand only is used; and this grasps the thongs at their point of union, about halfway between the ends. The balls are then whirled in a circular motion around the head; and, when sufficient centrifugal power has been obtained, the weapon is launched at the object to be captured. The aim is a matter of nice calculation,--in which arm, eye, and mind, all bear a part,--and so true is this aim, in Patagonian practice, that the hunter seldom fails to bring down or otherwise cripple his game,--be it ostrich, cavy, or guanaco. By these bolas, then, did the Patagonian hunter capture the guanaco and ostrich in times past; and by the same weapon does he still capture them: for he can use it even better on horseback than on foot. Either the bird or the quadruped, within fifty yards, has no chance of escape from his unerring aim. The bolas, in some districts, have been improved upon by the introduction of a third ball; but this the Patagonian does not consider an _improvement_. Wooden balls are sometimes employed; and iron ones, where they can be had,--the last sort can be projected to the greatest distance. The Patagonian takes the young guanacos alive; and brings them up in a state of domestication. The little creatures may often be observed, standing outside the tents of a Patagonian encampment,--either tied by a string, or held in hand by some "infant giant" of the tribe. It is not solely for the pleasure of making pets of them, that the young guanacos are thus cherished; nor yet to raise them for food. The object aimed at has a very different signification. These young guanacos are intended to be used as _decoys_: for the purpose of attracting their own relatives,--fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, uncles, and aunts, even to the most distant thirty-second cousinship,--within reach of the terrible bolas! This is effected by tying the innocent little creature to some bush,-- behind which the hunter conceals himself,--and then imitating the mother's call; which the Indian hunter can do with all the skill of a ventriloquist. The young captive responds with the plaintive cry of captivity,--the parents are soon attracted to the spot, and fall victims to their instinct of natural affection. Were it not for this, and similar stratagems adopted by the Patagonian hunter, he would pursue the guanaco in vain. Even with the help of his pack of dogs, and mounted upon the fleet Spanish horse, the guanaco cannot be hunted with success. Nature, in denying to these animals almost every means of defence, has also bestowed upon them a gift which enables them to escape from many kinds of danger. Of mild and inoffensive habits,--defenceless as the hare,--they are also possessed of a like swiftness. Indeed, there is perhaps no quadruped--not even the antelope--that can get over the ground as speedily as the guanaco or its kindred species the vicuna. Both are swift as the wind; and the eye, following either in its retreat over the level plain, or up the declivity of a hill, is deluded into the fancy that it is watching some great bird upon the wing. There are certain seasons during which the guanaco is much more difficult to approach than at other times; but this is true of almost every species of animal,--whether bird or quadruped. Of course, the tame season is that of sexual intercourse, when even the wild beasts become reckless under the influence of passion. At other times the guanacos are generally very shy; and sometimes extremely so. It is not uncommon for a herd of them to take the alarm, and scamper off from the hunter, even before the latter has approached near enough to be himself within sight of them! They possess great keenness of scent, but it is the eye which usually proves their friend, warning them of the approach of an enemy--especially if that enemy be a man upon horseback--before the latter is aware of their proximity. Often a cloud of dust, rising afar off over the plain, is the only proof the hunter can obtain, that there was game within the range of his vision. It is a curious circumstance connected with hunting on these great plains,--both on the Pampas and in Patagonia,--that a man on foot can approach much nearer to any game than if he were mounted upon a horse. This is true not only in relation to the guanaco and ostrich, but also of the large Pampas deer (_cervus campestris_); and indeed of almost every animal that inhabits these regions. The reason is simple enough. All these creatures are accustomed to seeing their human enemy only on horseback: for "still hunting," or hunting afoot, is rarely or never practised upon the plains. Not only that, but a man on foot, would be a rare sight either to an ostrich or guanaco; and they would scarce recognise him as an enemy! Curiosity would be their leading sentiment; and, being influenced by this, the hunter _on foot_ can often approach them without difficulty. The Patagonian, knowing this peculiarity, not unfrequently takes advantage of it, to kill or capture both the bird and the quadruped. This sentiment of the brute creation, on the plains of Patagonia, is directly the reverse of what may be observed in our own fields. The sly crow shows but little of this shyness, so long as you approach it on a horse's back; but only attempt to steal up to it on foot,--even with a thick hawthorn hedge to screen you,--and every fowler knows how wary the bird can prove itself. Some people pronounce this _instinct_. If so, instinct and reason must be one and the same thing. Besides hunting the guanaco, much of the Patagonian's time is spent in the chase of the ostrich; and, to circumvent this shy creature, he adopts various _ruses_. The American ostrich, or more properly _rhea_, has many habits in common with its African congener. One of these is, when pursued it runs in a straight track, and, if possible, _against_ the wind. Aware of this habit, the Patagonians pursue it on horseback,--taking the precaution to place some of their party in ambush in the direction which the bird is most likely to run. They then gallop hastily up to the line of flight, and either intercept the rhea altogether, or succeed in "hoppling" it with the bolas. The moment these touch its long legs, both are drawn suddenly together; and the bird goes down as if shot! Drake and other voyagers have recorded the statement that the Patagonians attract the rhea within reach, by disguising themselves in a skin of this bird. This is evidently an untruth; and the error, whether wilful or otherwise, derives its origin from the fact, that a stratagem of the kind is adopted by the Bushmen of Africa to deceive the ostrich. But what is practicable and possible between a pigmy Bushman and a gigantic African ostrich, becomes altogether impracticable and improbable, when the _dramatis persona_ are a gigantic Patagonian and an American _rhea_. Moreover, it is also worthy of remark, that the _rhea_ of the Patagonian plains is not the larger of the two species of American ostrich, but the smaller one (_rhea Darwinii_), which has been lately specifically named after the celebrated naturalist. And justly does Mr Darwin merit the honour: since he was the first to give a scientific description of the bird. He was not the first, however,--as he appears himself to believe,--to discover its existence, or to give a record of it in writing. The old Styrian monk, Dobrizhoffer, two centuries before Mr Darwin was born, in his "History of the Abipones" clearly points to the fact that there were two distinct species of the "avestruz," or South-American ostrich. Mr Darwin, however, has confirmed Dobrizhoffer's account; and brought both birds home with him; and he, who chooses to reflect upon the subject, will easily perceive how impossible it would be for a Patagonian to conceal his bulky _corpus_ under the skin of a _rhea Darwinii, or even_ that of its larger congener, the _rhea Americana_. The skin of either would be little more than large enough to form a cap for the _colossus_ of the Patagonian plains. In the more fertile parts of Patagonia, the large deer (_cervus campestris_) is found. These are also hunted by the Patagonian, and their flesh is esteemed excellent food; not, however, until it has lain several days buried underground,--for it requires this funereal process, to rid it of the rank, goat-like smell, so peculiar to the species. The mode of hunting this deer--at least that most likely to insure success-- is by stealing forward to it on foot. Sometimes a man may approach it, within the distance of a few yards,-- even when there is no cover to shelter him,--by walking gently up to it. Of all the other quadrupeds of the Pampas,--and these plains are its favourite _habitat_,--the _cervus campestris_ most dreads the horseman:--since its enemy always appears in that guise; and it has learnt the destructive power of both lazo and bolas, by having witnessed their effects upon its comrades. The hunter dismounted has no terrors for it; and if he will only keep lazo and bolas out of sight,--for these it can distinguish, as our crow does the gun,--he may get near enough to fling either one or the other with a fatal precision. The "agouti" (_cavia Patagonica_) frequently furnishes the Patagonian with a meal. This species is a true denizen of the desert plains of Patagonia; and forms one of the characteristic features of their landscape. I need not describe its generic characters; and specifically it has been long known as the "Patagonian cavy." Its habits differ very little from the other South-American animals of this rodent genus,-- except that, unlike the great capivara, it does not affect to dwell near the water. It is altogether a denizen of dry plains, in which it burrows, and upon which it may be seen browsing, or hopping at intervals from one point to another, like a gigantic rabbit or hare. In fact, the cavies appear to be the South-American representatives of the hare family,--taking their place upon all occasions; and, though of many different species,--according to climate, soil, and other circumstances,--yet agreeing with the hares in most of their characteristic habits. So much do some of the species assimilate to these last, that colonial sportsmen are accustomed to give them the Old-World appellation of the celebrated swift-footed rodent. The Patagonian cavies are much larger than English hares,--one of them will weigh twenty-five pounds,--but, in other respects, there is a great deal of resemblance. On a fine evening, three or four cavies may be seen squatted near each other, or hopping about over the plains, one following the other in a direct line, as if they were all proceeding on the same errand! Just such a habit is frequently observed among hares and rabbits in a field of young corn or fallow. The Patagonian boys and women often employ themselves in seeking out the ostriches' nests, and robbing them of their eggs,--which last they find good eating. In the nests of the smaller species which we have already stated to be the most common in the Patagonian country,--they are not rewarded so liberally for their trouble. Only from sixteen to twenty eggs are hatched by the _rhea Darwinii_ and about twenty-five to thirty by the _rhea Americana_. It will be seen, that this is far below the number obtained from the nest of the African ostrich (_struthio camelus_),--in which as many as sixty or seventy eggs are frequently found. It would appear, therefore, that the greater the size of the bird, belonging to this genus the greater the number of its brood. Both the American rheas follow the peculiar habit of the true ostrich: that is, several hens deposit their eggs in the same nest; and the male bird assists in the process of incubation. Indeed, in almost every respect-- except size and general colour of plumage--the American and African ostriches resemble each other very closely; and there is no reason in the world why a pedantic compiler should have bestowed upon them distinct generic names. Both are true _camel birds_: both alike the offspring, as they are the ornament, of the desert land. Another occupation in which the Patagonian engages--and which sometimes rewards him with a meal--is the snaring of the Pampas partridge (_nothuria major_). This is usually the employment of the more youthful giants; and is performed both on foot and on horseback. A small species of partridge is taken on foot; but the larger kind can be snared best from the back of a horse. The mode is not altogether peculiar to Patagonia: since it is also practised in other parts of America,--both north and south,--and the bustard is similarly captured upon the _karoos_ of Africa. During the noon hours of the day, the performance takes place: that is, when the sun no longer casts a shadow. The locality of the bird being first ascertained, the fowler approaches it, as near as it will allow. He then commences riding round, and round, and round,--being all the while watched by the _foolish_ bird, that, in constantly turning its head, appears to grow giddy, and loses all dread of danger. The Indian each moment keeps lessening his circle; or, in other words, approaches by a spiral line, continually closing upon its centre. His only weapon is a long light reed,--something like the common kind of cane fishing-rod, seen in the hands of rustic youth in our own country. On the end of this reed he has adjusted a stiff snare; the noose of which is made from the epidermis of an ostrich plume, or a piece of the split quill; and which, being both stiff and elastic, serves admirably for the purpose for which it is designed. Having at length arrived within a proper distance to reach the beguiled bird, the boy softly stops his horse, bends gently sidewards, and, adroitly passing his noose over the neck of the partridge, jerks the silly creature into the air. In this way an Indian boy will capture a dozen of these birds in a few hours; and might obtain far more, if the sun would only stay all day in the zenith. But as the bright orb sinks westward, the elongated shadow of the horseman passes over the partridge before the latter is within reach of the snare; and this alarming the creature, causes it to take flight. The Patagonian builds no house; nor does he remain long in one place at a time. The sterile soil upon which he dwells requires him to lead a nomade life; passing from place to place in search of game. A tent is therefore his home; and this is of the simplest kind: the tent-cloth consisting of a number of guanaco skins stitched together, and the poles being such as he can obtain from the nearest tract of thicket or _chapparal_. The poles are set bow-fashion in the ground, and over these the skin covering is spread,--one of the bent poles being left uncovered, to serve as a doorway. Most of the Patagonian's time is occupied in procuring game: which, as we have seen, is his sole sustenance; and when he has any leisure moments, they are given to the care of his horse, or to the making or repairing his weapons for the chase. Above all, the bolas are his especial pride, and ever present with him. When not in actual use, they are suspended from his girdle, or tied sash-like around his waist,--the balls dangling down like a pair of tassels. Only during his hours of sleep, is this national weapon ever out of the hands of the Patagonian giant. Had the wonderful giant of our nurseries been provided with such a sling, it is probable that little Jack would have found in him an adversary more difficult to subdue! CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. The great continent of South America, tapering like a tongue to the southward, ends abruptly on the Straits of Magellan. These straits may be regarded as a sort of natural canal, connecting the Atlantic with the Pacific Ocean, winding between high rocky shores, and indented with numerous bays and inlets. Though the water is of great depth, the Straits themselves are so narrow that a ship passing through need never lose sight of land on either side; and in many places a shell, projected from an ordinary howitzer, would pitch clear across them from shore to shore! The country extending northward from these straits is, as already seen, called _Patagonia_; that which lies on their southern side is the famed "land of fire," _Tierra del Fuego_. The canal, or channel, of the Straits of Magellan does not run in a direct line from the Atlantic to the Pacific. On the contrary, a ship entering from the former, instead of passing due west, must first run in a south-west direction,--rather more south than west. This course will continue, until the ship is about halfway between the two oceans. She will then head almost at a right angle to her former course; and keep this direction--which is nearly due north-west--until she emerges into the Pacific. It will thus be seen, that the Straits form an angle near their middle; and the point of land which projects into the vertex of this angle, and known to navigators as Cape Forward, is the most southern land of the American _continent_. Of course this is not meant to apply to the most southern point of American land,--since Tierra del Fuego must be considered as part of South America. The far-famed "Cape Horn" is the part of America nearest to the South Pole; and this is a promontory on one of the small elevated islands lying off the southern coast of Tierra del Fuego itself. Tierra del Fuego was for a long time regarded as a single island; though, even in the voyage of Magellan, several large inlets, that resembled channels, were observed running into the land; and it was suspected by that navigator, that these inlets might be passages leading through to the ocean. Later surveys have proved that the conjectures of the Spano-Portuguese voyager were well founded; and it is now known that instead of a single island, the country called Tierra del Fuego is a congeries of many islands, of different shapes and sizes,--separated from one another by deep and narrow channels, or arms of the sea, with an endless ramification of sounds and inlets. In the western part--and occupying more than three fourths of their whole territory--these close-lying islands are nothing else than mountains,-- several of them rising five thousand feet above the level of the water; and stepping directly down to it, without any foothills intervening! Some of them have their lower declivities covered with sombre forests; while, farther up, nothing appears but the bare brown rocks, varied with blue glaciers, or mottled with masses of snow. The more elevated peaks are covered with snow that never melts; since their summits rise considerably above the snow-line of this cold region. These mountain islands of Tierra del Fuego continue on to Cape Horn, and eastward to the Straits of Le Maire, and the bleak islet of Staaten Land. They may, in fact, be considered as the continuation of the great chain of the Andes, if we regard the intersecting channels--including that of Magellan itself--as mere clefts or ravines, the bottoms of which, lying below the level of the sea, have been filled with sea-water. Indeed, we may rationally take this view of the case: since these channels bear a very great resemblance to the stupendous ravines termed "barrancas" and "quebradas," which intersect the Cordilleras of the Andes in other parts of South America,--as also in the northern division of the American continent. Regarding the Straits of Magellan, then, and the other channels of Tierra del Fuego, as great _water-barrancas_, we may consider the Andes as terminating at Cape Horn itself, or rather at Staaten Land: since that island is a still more distant extension of this, the longest chain of mountains on the globe. Another point may be here adduced, in proof of the rationality of this theory. The western, or mountainous part of Tierra del Fuego bears a strong resemblance to the western section of the continent,--that is, the part occupied by the Andes. For a considerable distance to the north of the Magellan Straits, nearly one half of the continental land is of a mountainous character. It is also indented by numerous sounds and inlets, resembling those of Tierra del Fuego; while the mountains that hang over these deep-water ravines are either timbered, or bare of trees and snow-covered, exhibiting glacier valleys, like those farther south. The whole physical character is similar; and, what is a still more singular fact, we find that in the western, or mountainous part of Patagonia, there are no true Patagonians; but that there, the water-Indians, or Fuegians, frequent the creeks and inlets. Again, upon the east,--or rather north-east of Tierra del Fuego,--that angular division of it, which lies to the north of the Sebastian channel presents us with physical features that correspond more nearly with those of the plains of Patagonia; and upon this part we find tribes of Indians that beyond doubt are true Patagonians,--and not Fuegians, as they have been described. This will account for the fact that some navigators have seen people on the Fuegian side that were large-bodied men, clothed in guanaco skins, and exhibiting none of those wretched traits which characterise the Fuegians; while, on the other hand, miserable, stunted men are known to occupy the mountainous western part of Patagonia. It amounts to this,--that the Patagonians _have_ crossed the Straits of Magellan; and it is this people, and not Fuegians, who are usually seen upon the champaign lands north of the Sebastian channel. Even the guanaco has crossed at the same place,--for this quadruped, as well as a species of deer, is found in the eastern division of Tierra del Fuego. Perhaps it was the camel-sheep--which appears to be almost a necessity of the Patagonian's existence--that first induced these water-hating giants to make so extensive a voyage as that of crossing the Straits at Cape Orange! At Cape Orange the channel is so narrow, one might fancy that the Patagonians, if they possessed one half the pedestrian stretch attributed to the giants of old, might have stepped from shore to shore without wetting their great feet! Perhaps there are no two people on earth, living so near each other as the Patagonians and Fuegians, who are more unlike. Except in the colour of the skin and hair, there is hardly a point of resemblance between them. The former seems to hate the sea: at all events he never goes out upon, nor even approaches its shore, except in pursuit of such game as may wander that way. He neither dwells near, nor does he draw any portion of his subsistence from the waters of the great deep,--fish constituting no part of his food. All this is directly the reverse with the Fuegian. The beach is the situation _he_ chooses for his dwelling-place, and the sea or its shore is his proper element. He is more than half his time, either on it, or _in_ it,--on it in his canoe, and in it, while wading among the tidal shoals in search of fish, mussels, and limpets, which constitute very nearly the whole of his subsistence. It is very curious, therefore, while noting the difference between these two tribes of Indians, to observe how each confines its range to that part of the Magellanic land that appears best adapted to their own peculiar habits,--those of the Patagonian being altogether _terrestrial_, while those of the Fuegian are essentially _aquatic_. We have stated elsewhere the limits of the Patagonian territory; and shown that, ethnologically speaking they do not occupy the whole northern shore of the Magellan Straits, but only the eastern half of it. Westward towards the Pacific the aspect of the land, on both sides of this famous channel, may be regarded as of the same character, though altogether different from that which is seen at the entrance, or eastern end. West of Cape Negro on one side, and the Sebastian passage on the other, bleak mountain summits, with narrow wooded valleys intervening, become the characteristic features. There we behold an incongruous labyrinth of peaks and ridges, of singular and fantastic forms,--many of them reaching above the limits of perpetual snow,--which, in this cold climate descends to the height of four thousand feet. We have seen that these mountains are separated from each other,--not by plains, nor even valleys, in the ordinary understanding of the term; but by _ravines_, the steep sides of which are covered with sombre forests up to a height of one thousand five hundred feet above the level of the sea: at which point vegetation terminates with a uniformity as exact as that of the snow-line itself! These forests grow out of a wet, peaty soil,--in many places impassable on account of its boggy nature; and of this character is almost the whole surface of the different islands. The trees composing the forests are few in species,--those of the greatest size and numbers being the "winter's bark" (_drymys_), of the order _magnoliacae_, a birch, and, more abundantly, a species of beech-tree, the _fagus betuloides_. These last-named trees are many of them of great size; and might almost be called evergreens: since they retain part of their foliage throughout the whole year; but it would be more appropriate to style them _ever-yellows_: since at no period do they exhibit a verdure, anything like the forests of other countries. They are always clad in the same sombre livery of dull yellow, rendering the mountain landscape around them, if possible, more dreary and desolate. The forests of Tierra del Fuego are essentially worthless forests; their timber offering but a limited contribution to the necessities of man, and producing scarce any food for his subsistence. Many of the ravines are so deep as to end, as already stated, in becoming arms or inlets of the sea; while others again are filled up with stupendous glaciers, that appear like cataracts suddenly arrested in their fall, by being frozen into solid ice! Most of these inlets are of great depth,--so deep that the largest ship may plough through them with safety. They intersect the islands in every direction,--cutting them up into numerous peninsulas of the most fantastic forms; while some of the channels are narrow _sounds_, and stretch across the land of Tierra del Fuego from ocean to ocean. The "Land of Fire" is therefore not an island,--as it was long regarded,--but rather a collection of islands, terminated by precipitous cliffs that frown within gunshot of each other. Ofttimes vast masses of rock, or still larger masses of glacier ice, fall from these cliffs into the profound abysses of the inlets below; the concussion, as they strike the water, reverberating to the distance of miles; while the water itself, stirred to its lowest depths, rises in grand surging waves, that often engulf the canoe of the unwary savage. "Tierra del Fuego" is simply the Spanish phrase for "Land of Fire." It was so called by Magellan on account of the numerous fires seen at night upon its shores,--while he and his people were passing through the Straits. These were signal fires, kindled by the natives,--no doubt to telegraph to one another the arrival of those strange leviathans, the Spanish ships, then seen by them for the first time. The name is inappropriate. A more fit appellation would be the "land of water;" for, certainly, in no part of the earth is water more abundant: both rain and snow supplying it almost continually. Water is the very plague of the island; it lies stagnant or runs everywhere,--forming swamps, wherever there is a spot of level ground, and rendering even the declivities of the mountains as spongy as a peat-bog. The climate throughout the whole year is excessively cold; for, though the winter is perhaps not more rigorous than in the same latitude of a northern land, yet the summer is almost as severe as the winter; and it would be a misnomer to call it summer at all. Snow falls throughout the whole year; and even in the midsummer of Tierra del Fuego men have actually perished from cold, at no great elevation above the level of the sea! Under these circumstances, it would scarce be expected that Tierra del Fuego should be inhabited,--either by men or animals of any kind; but no country has yet been reached, too cold for the existence of both. No part of the earth seems to have been created in vain; and both men and beasts are found dwelling under the chill skies of Tierra del Fuego. The land-animals, as well as the birds, are few in species, as in numbers. The _guanaco_ is found upon the islands; but whether indigenous, or carried across from the Patagonian shore, can never be determined: since it was an inhabitant of the islands long anterior to the arrival of Magellan. It frequents only the eastern side of the cluster,--where the ground is firmer, and a few level spots appear that might be termed plains or meadows. A species of deer inhabits the same districts; and besides these, there are two kinds of fox-wolves (_canis Magellanicus_ and _canis Azarae_), three or four kinds of mice, and a species of bat. Of water-mammalia there is a greater abundance: these comprising the whale, seals, sea-lions, and the sea-otter. But few birds have been observed; only the white-tufted flycatcher, a large black woodpecker with scarlet crest, a creeper, a wren, a thrush, a starling, hawks, owls, and four or five kinds of finches. The water-birds, like the water-mammalia, muster in greater numbers. Of these there are ducks of various kinds, sea-divers, and penguins, the albatross, and sheer-water, and, more beautiful than all, the "painted" or "Magellan goose." Reptiles do not exist, and insects are exceedingly rare. A few flies and butterflies are seen; but the mosquito--the plague of other parts of South America--does not venture into the cold, humid atmosphere of the Land of Fire. We now arrive at the _human_ inhabitants of this desolate region. As might be expected, these exhibit no very high condition of either physical or mental development, but the contrary. The character of their civilisation is in complete correspondence with that of their dreary dwelling-place,--at the very bottom of the scale. Yes, at the very bottom, according to most ethnologists; even lower down than that of the Digger Indian, the Andaman islander, the Bushman of Africa, or the Esquimaux of the Arctic Ocean: in fact, any comparison of a Fuegian with the last-mentioned would be ridiculous, as regards either their moral or physical condition. Below the Esquimaux, the Fuegian certainly is, and by many a long degree. In height, the tallest Fuegian stands about five feet,--not in his boots, for he wears none; but on his naked soles. His wife is just six inches shorter than himself--a difference which is not a bad proportion between the sexes, but in other respects they are much alike. Both have small, misshapen limbs, with large knee-caps, and but little calf; both have long masses of coarse tangled hair, hanging like bunches of black snakes over their shoulders; and both are as naked as the hour in which they were born,--unless we call _that_ a dress,--that bit of stinking sealskin which is slung at the back, and covers about a fifth part of the whole body! Hairy side turned inward, it extends only from the nape of the neck to a few inches below the hollow of the back; and is fastened in front by means of a thong or skewer passing over the breast. It is rarely so ample as to admit of being "skewered;" and with this scanty covering, in rain and snow, frost and blow,--some one of which is continuously going on,--the shivering wretch is contented. Nay, more; if there should happen an interval of mild weather, or the wearer be at work in paddling his canoe, he flings this unique garment aside, as if its warmth were an incumbrance! When the weather is particularly cold, he shifts the sealskin to that side of his body which may chance to be exposed to the blast! The Fuegian wears neither hat, nor shirt, waistcoat, nor breeches,--no shoes, no stockings,--nothing intended for clothing but the bit of stinking skin. His vanity, however, is exhibited, not in his dress, to some extent in his adornments. Like all savages and many civilised people, he _paints_ certain portions of his person; and his "escutcheon" is peculiar. It would be difficult to detail its complicated labyrinth of "crossings" and "quarterings." We shall content ourselves by stating that black lines and blotches upon a white ground constitute its chief characteristic. Red, too, is sometimes seen, of a dark or "bricky" colour. The black is simply charcoal; while the white-ground coat is obtained from a species of infusorial clay, which he finds at the bottom of the peaty streams, that pour down the ravines of the mountains. As additional ornaments, he wears strings of fish-teeth, or pieces of bone, about his wrists and ankles. His wife carries the same upon her neck; and both, when they can procure it, tie a plain band around the head, of a reddish-brown colour,--the material of which is the long hair of the guanaco. The "cloak," already described, is sometimes of sea-otter instead of sealskin; and on some of the islands, where the deer dwells, the hide of that animal affords a more ample covering. In most cases, however, the size of the garment is that of a pocket handkerchief; and affords about as much protection against the weather as a kerchief would. Though the Fuegian has abundance of hair upon his head, there is none, or almost none on any part of his body. He is beardless and whiskerless as an Esquimaux; though his features,--without the adornment of hair,-- are sufficiently fierce in their expression. He not only looks ferocious, but in reality is so,--deformed in mind, as he is hideous in person. He is not only ungrateful for kindness done, but unwilling to remember it; and he is cruel and vindictive in the extreme. Beyond a doubt he is a _cannibal_; not habitually perhaps, but in times of scarcity and famine,--a true cannibal, for he does not confine himself to eating his _enemies_, but his _friends_ if need be,-- and especially the old women of his tribe, who fall the first victims, in those crises produced by the terrible requirements of an impending starvation. Unfortunately the fact is too well authenticated to admit of either doubt or denial; and, even while we write, the account of a massacre of a ship's crew by these hostile savages is going the rounds of the press,--that ship, too, a missionary vessel, that had landed on their shores with the humane object of ameliorating their condition. Of course such unnatural food is only partaken of at long and rare intervals,--by many communities never,--and there is no proof that the wretched Fuegian has acquired an appetite for it: like the Feegee and some other savage tribes. It is to be hoped that he indulges in the horrid habit, only when forced to it by the necessities of extreme hunger. His ordinary subsistence is shell-fish; though he eats also the flesh of the seal and sea-otter; of birds, especially the penguin and Magellanic goose, when he can capture them. His stomach will not "turn" at the blubber of a whale,--when by good chance one of these leviathans gets stranded on his coast,--even though the great carcass be far gone in the stages of decomposition! The only vegetable diet in which he indulges is the berry of a shrub--a species of arbutus--which grows abundantly on the peaty soil; and a fungus of a very curious kind, that is produced upon the trunks of the beech-tree. This fungus is of a globular form, and pale-yellow colour. When young, it is elastic and turgid, with a smooth surface; but as it matures it becomes shrunken, grows tougher in its texture, and presents the pitted appearance of a honeycomb. When fully ripe, the Fuegians collect it in large quantities, eating it without cooking or other preparation. It is tough between the teeth; but soon changes into pulp, with a sweetish taste and flavour,--somewhat resembling that of our common mushroom. These two vegetables--a berry and a cryptogamic plant--are almost the only ones eaten by the natives of Tierra del Fuego. There are others upon the island that might enable them to eke out their miserable existence: there are two especially sought after by such Europeans as visit this dreary land,--the "wild celery" (_opium antarcticum_), and the "scurvy grass" (_cardamine antiscorbutica_); but for these the Fuegian cares not. He even knows not their uses. In speaking of other "odd people," I have usually described the mode of building their house; but about the house of the Fuegian I have almost "no story to tell." It would be idle to call that a house, which far more resembles the lair of a wild beast; and is, in reality, little better than the den made by the orang-outang in the forests of Borneo. Such as it is, however, I shall describe it. Having procured a number of long saplings or branches,--not always straight ones,--the Fuegian sharpens them at one end by means of his mussel-shell knife; and then sticking the sharpened ends into the ground in a kind of circle, he brings the tops all together, and ties them in a bunch,--so as to form a rude hemispherical frame. Upon this he lays some smaller branches; and over these a few armfuls of long coarse grass, and the house is "built". One side--that to leeward of the prevailing wind--is left open, to allow for an entrance and the escape of smoke. As this opening is usually about an eighth part of the whole circumference, the house is, in reality, nothing more than a shed or lair. Its furniture does not contradict the idea; but, on the contrary, only strengthens the comparison. There is no table, no chair, no bedstead: a "shake-down" of damp grass answers for all. There are no implements or utensils,--if we except a rude basket used for holding the arbutus berries, and a sealskin bag, in which the shell-fish are collected. A bladder, filled with water, hangs upon some forking stuck against the side: in the top of this bladder is a hole, from which each member of the family takes a "suck," when thirst inclines them to drink! The "tools" observable are a bow and arrow, the latter headed with flint; a fish spear with a forked point, made from a bone of the sea-lion; a short stick,--a woman's implement for knocking the limpets from the rocks; and some knives, the blades of which are sharpened shells of the mussel,--a very large species of which is found along the coast. These knives are simply manufactured. The brittle edge of the shell--which is five or six inches in length--is first chipped off, and a new edge formed by grinding the shell upon the rocks. When thus prepared, it will cut not only the hardest wood, but even the bones of fish; and serves the Fuegian for all purposes. Outside the hut, you may see the canoe,--near at hand too,--for the shieling of the Fuegian universally stands upon the beach. He never dwells in the interior of his island; and but rarely roams there,--the women only making such excursions as are necessary to procure the berry and the mushroom. The woods have no charms for him, except to afford him a little fuel; they are difficult to be traversed on account of the miry soil out of which the trees grow; and, otherwise, there is absolutely nothing to be found amidst their gloomy depths, that would in any way contribute to his comfort or sustenance. He is therefore essentially a dweller on the shore; and even there he is not free to come and go as he might choose. From the bold character of his coast, there are here and there long reaches, where the beach cannot be followed by land,--places where the water's edge can only be reached, and the shell-fish collected, by means of some sort of navigable craft. For this purpose the Fuegian requires a canoe; and the necessity of his life makes him a waterman. His skill, however, both in the construction of his craft, and the management of it, is of a very inferior order,-- infinitely inferior to that exhibited either by the Esquimaux or the Water-Indians of the North. His canoe is usually made of the bark of a tree,--the birch already mentioned. Sometimes it is so rudely shaped, as to be merely a large piece of bark shelled from a single trunk, closed at each end, and tied tightly with thong of sealskin. A few cross-sticks prevent the sides from pressing inward; while as many stays of thong keep them from "bulging" in the contrary direction. If there are cracks in the bark, these are caulked with rushes and a species of resin, which the woods furnish. With this rude vessel the Fuegian ventures forth, upon the numerous straits and inlets that intersect his land; but he rarely trusts himself to a tempestuous sea. If rich or industrious, he sometimes becomes the possessor of a craft superior to this. It is also a bark canoe, but not made of a single "flitch." On the contrary, there are many choice pieces used in its construction: for it is fifteen feet in length and three in width amidships. Its "build" also is better,--with a high prow and stern, and cross-pieces regularly set and secured at the ends. The pieces of bark are united by a stitching of thongs; and the seams carefully caulked so that no water can enter. In this vessel, the Fuegian may embark with his whole family,--and his whole furniture to boot,--and voyage to any part of his coast. And this in reality he does; for the "shanty" above described, is to him only a temporary home. The necessities of his life require him to be continually changing it; and a "removal," with the building of a new domicile, is a circumstance of frequent recurrence. Not unfrequently, in removing from one part of the coast to another, he finds it safer making a land journey, to avoid the dangers of the deep. In times of high wind, it is necessary for him to adopt this course,-- else his frail bark might be dashed against the rocks and riven to pieces. In the land journey he carries the canoe along with him; and in order to do this with convenience, he has so contrived it, that the planks composing the little vessel can be taken apart, and put together again without much difficulty,--the seams only requiring to be freshly caulked. In the transport across land, each member of the family carries a part of the canoe: the stronger individuals taking the heavier pieces,--as the side and bottom planks,--while the ribs and light beams are borne by the younger and weaker. The necessity of removal arises from a very natural cause. A few days spent at a particular place,--on a creek or bay,--even though the community be a small one, soon exhausts the chief store of food,--the mussel-bank upon the beach,--and, of course, another must be sought for. This may lie at some distance; perhaps can only be reached by a tedious, and sometimes perilous water-journey; and under these circumstances the Fuegian deems it less trouble to carry the mountain to Mahomet, than carry Mahomet so often to the mountain. The transporting his whole menage, is just as easy as bringing home a load of limpets; and as to the building of a new house, that is a mere bagatelle, which takes little labour, and no more time than the erection of a tent. Some Fuegians actually possess a tent, covered with the skins of animals; but this a rare and exceptional advantage; and the tent itself of the rudest kind. The Fuegian has his own mode of procuring fire. He is provided with a piece of "mundic," or iron pyrites, which he finds high up upon the sides of his mountains. This struck by a pebble will produce sparks. These he catches upon a tinder of moss, or the "punk" of a dead tree, which he knows how to prepare. The tinder once ignited, is placed within a roundish ball of dry grass; and, this being waved about in circles, sets the grass in a blaze. It is then only necessary to communicate the flame to a bundle of sticks; and the work is complete. The process, though easy enough in a climate where "punk" is plenty, and dry grass and sticks can be readily procured, is nevertheless difficult enough in the humid atmosphere of Tierra del Fuego,--where moss is like a wet sponge, and grass, sticks, and logs, can hardly be found dry enough to burn. Well knowing this, the Fuegian is habitually careful of his fire: scarce ever permitting it to go out; and even while travelling in his canoe, in search of a "new home," side by side with his other "penates" he carries the fire along with him. Notwithstanding the abundance of fuel with which his country provides him, he seems never to be thoroughly warm. Having no close walls to surround him, and no clothing to cover his body, he suffers almost incessantly from cold. Wherever met, he presents himself with a shivering aspect, like one undergoing a severe fit of the ague! The Fuegians live in small communities, which scarce deserve the name of "tribes," since they have no political leader, nor chief of any description. The conjuror--and they have him--is the only individual that differs in any degree from the other members of the community; but his power is very slight and limited; nor does it extend to the exercise of any physical force. Religion they have none,--at least, none more sacred or sanctified than a vague belief in devils and other evil spirits. Although without leaders, they are far from being a peaceful people. The various communities often quarrel and wage cruel and vindictive war against one another; and were it not that the boundaries of each association are well-defined, by deep ravines and inlets of the sea, as well as by the impassable barriers of snow-covered mountains, these warlike dwarfs would thin one another's numbers to a far greater extent than they now do,--perhaps to a mutual extermination. Fortunately the peculiar nature of their country hinders them from coming very often within fighting distance. Their whole system of life is abject in the extreme. Although provided with fires, their food is eaten raw; and a fish taken from the water will be swallowed upon the instant--almost before the life is gone out of it. Seal and penguin flesh are devoured in the same manner; and the blubber of the whale is also a raw repast. When one of these is found dead upon the beach,--for they have neither the skill nor courage to capture the whale,--the lucky accident brings a season of rejoicing. A fleet of canoes--if it is to be reached only by water--at once paddle towards the place; or, if it be an overland journey, the whole community--man, woman, and child--start forth on foot. In an hour or two they may be seen returning to their hut village, each with a large "flitch" of blubber flapping over the shoulders, and the head just appearing above, through a hole cut in the centre of the piece,--just as a Mexican ranchero wears his "serape," or a denizen of the Pampas his woollen "poncho." A feast follows this singular procession. Like the Esquimaux of the north, the Fuegian is very skilful in capturing the seal. His mode of capturing this creature, however, is very different from that employed by the "sealer" of the Arctic Seas; and consists simply in stealing as near as possible in his canoe, when he sees the animal asleep upon the surface, and striking it with a javelin,--which he throws with an unerring aim. We have already observed that the principal subsistence of the Fuegian is supplied by the sea; and shell-fish forms the most important item of his food. These are mussels, limpets, oysters, and other kinds of shell-fish, and so many are annually consumed by a single family, that an immense heap of the shells may be seen not only in front of every hut, but all along the coast of the islands, above high-water mark,-- wherever a tribe has made its temporary sojourn. There is a singular fact connected with these conglomerations of shells, which appears to have escaped the observations of the Magellanic voyagers. It is not by mere accident they are thus collected in piles. There is a certain amount of superstition in the matter. The Fuegian believes that, were the shells scattered negligently about, ill-luck would follow; and, above all, if the emptied ones were thrown back into the sea: since this would be a warning of destruction that would frighten the living bivalves in their "beds," and drive them away from the coast! Hence it is that the shell-heaps are so carefully kept together. In collecting these shell-fish, the women are the chief labourers. They do not always gather them from the rocks, after the tide has gone out; though that is the usual time. But there are some species not found in shallow water, and therefore only to be obtained by diving to the bottom after them. Of this kind is a species of _echinus_, or "sea-urchin," of the shape of an orange, and about twice the bulk of one,--the whole outside surface being thickly set with spines, or protuberances. These curious shell-fish are called "sea-eggs" by the sailor navigators; and constitute an important article of the food of the Fuegian. It is often necessary to dive for them to a great depth; and this is done by the Fuegian women, who are as expert in plunging as the pearl-divers of California or the Indian seas. Fish is another article of Fuegian diet; and many kinds are captured upon their coasts, some of excellent quality. They sometimes obtain the fish by shooting them with their arrows, or striking them with a dart; but they have a mode of catching the finny creatures, which is altogether peculiar: that is to say, _hunting them with dogs_! The Fuegians possess a breed of small fox-like dogs, mean, wretched-looking curs, usually on the very verge of starvation,--since their owners take not the slightest care of them, and hardly ever trouble themselves about feeding them. Notwithstanding this neglect, the Fuegian dogs are not without certain good qualities; and become important auxiliaries to the Fuegian fisherman. They are trained to pursue the fish through the water, and drive them into a net, or some enclosed creek or inlet, shallow enough for them to be shot with the arrow. In doing this the dogs dive to the bottom; and follow the fish to and fro, as if they were amphibious carnivora, like the seals and otters. For this useful service the poor brutes receive a very inadequate reward,--getting only the bones as their portion. They would undoubtedly starve, were it not that, being left to shift for themselves, they have learnt how to procure their own food; and understand how to catch a fish now and then _on their own account_. Their principal food, however, consists in shell-fish, which they find along the shores, with polypi, and such other animal substances as the sea leaves uncovered upon the beach after the tide has retired. A certain kind of sea-weed also furnishes them with an occasional meal, as it does their masters,--often as hungry and starving as themselves. In his personal habits no human being is more filthy than the Fuegian. He never uses water for washing purposes; nor cleans the dirt from his skin in any way. He has no more idea of putting water to such use, than he has of drowning himself in it; and in respect to cleanliness, he is not only below most other savages, but below the brutes themselves: since even these are taught cleanliness by instinct. But no such instinct exists in the mind of the Fuegian; and he lives in the midst of filth. The smell of his body can be perceived at a considerable distance; and Hotspur's fop might have had reasonable grounds of complaint, had it been a Fuegian who came between the "wind and his nobility." To use the pithy language of one of the old navigators, "The Fuegian stinks like a fox." Fairly examined, then, in all his bearings,--fairly judged by his habits and actions,--the Fuegian may claim the credit of being the most wretched of our race. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ THE END. 52106 ---- THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE MORAL IDEAS [Macmillan icon] MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED LONDON . BOMBAY . CALCUTTA MELBOURNE THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK . BOSTON . CHICAGO DALLAS . SAN FRANCISCO THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. TORONTO THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE MORAL IDEAS BY EDWARD WESTERMARCK, PH.D., LL.D. MARTIN WHITE PROFESSOR OF SOCIOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF LONDON PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY AT THE UNIVERSITY OF FINLAND, HELSlNGFORS AUTHOR OF "THE HISTORY OF HUMAN MARRIAGE" IN TWO VOLUMES VOL. I _SECOND EDITION_ MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON 1924. COPYRIGHT _First Edition_ 1906 _Second Edition_ 1912 _Reprinted_ 1924 PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN PREFACE THE frequent references made in the present work, on my own authority, to customs and ideas prevalent among the natives of Morocco, require a word of explanation. Seeing the close connection between moral opinions and magic and religious beliefs, I thought it might be useful for me to acquire first-hand knowledge of the folk-lore of some non-European people, and for various reasons I chose Morocco as my field of research. During the four years I spent there, largely among its country population, I have not only collected anthropological data, but tried to make myself familiar with the native way of thinking; and I venture to believe that this has helped me to understand various customs occurring at a stage of civilisation different from our own. I purpose before long to publish the detailed results of my studies in a special monograph on the popular religion and magics of the Moors. For these researches I have derived much material support from the University of Helsingfors. I am also indebted to the Russian Minister at Tangier, M. B. de Bacheracht, for his kindness in helping me on several occasions when I was dependent on the Sultan's Government. All the time I have had the valuable assistance of my Moorish friend Shereef [(]Abd-es-Salâm el-Ba[k.][k.]âli, to whom credit {vi} is due for the kind reception I invariably received from peasants and mountaineers, not generally noted for friendliness towards Europeans. I beg to express my best thanks to Mr. Stephen Gwynn for revising the first thirteen chapters, and to Mr. H. C. Minchin for revising the remaining portion of the book. To their suggestions I am indebted for the improvement of many phrases and expressions. I have likewise to thank my friend Mr. Alex. F. Shand for kindly reading the proofs of the earlier chapters and giving me the benefit of his opinion. Throughout the work the reader will easily find how much I owe to British science and thought--a debt which is greater than I can ever express. E. W. London, _January_, 1906. * * * * * PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION THE present edition is only a reprint of the first, with a few inaccurate expressions corrected. E. W. London, _July_, 1912. CONTENTS INTRODUCTORY The origin of the present investigation, p. 1.--Its subject-matter, p. 1 _sq._--Its practical usefulness, p. 2 _sq._ CHAPTER I THE EMOTIONAL ORIGIN OF MORAL JUDGMENTS The moral concepts essentially generalisations of tendencies in certain phenomena to call forth moral emotions, pp. 4-6.--The assumed universality or "objectivity" of moral judgments, p. 6 _sq._--Theories according to which the moral predicates derive all their import from reason, "theoretical" or "practical," p. 7 _sq._--Our tendency to objectivise moral judgments, no sufficient ground for referring them to the province of reason, p. 8 _sq._--This tendency partly due to the comparatively uniform nature of the moral consciousness, p. 9.--Differences of moral estimates resulting from circumstances of a purely intellectual character, pp. 9-11.--Differences of an emotional origin, pp. 11-13.--Quantitative, as well as qualitative, differences, p. 13.--The tendency to objectivise moral judgments partly due to the authority ascribed to moral rules, p. 14.--The origin and nature of this authority, pp. 14-17.--General moral truths non-existent, p. 17 _sq._--The object of scientific ethics not to fix rules for human conduct, but to study the moral consciousness as a fact, p. 18.--The supposed dangers of ethical subjectivism, pp. 18-20. CHAPTER II THE NATURE OF THE MORAL EMOTIONS The moral emotions of two kinds: disapproval, or indignation, and approval, p. 21.--The moral emotions retributive emotions, disapproval forming a sub-species of resentment, and approval a sub-species of retributive kindly emotion, _ibid._--Resentment an aggressive attitude of mind toward a cause of pain, p. 22 _sq._--Dr. Steinmetz's suggestion that revenge is essentially rooted in the feeling of power and superiority, and originally "undirected," pp. 23-27.--The true import of the facts adduced as evidence for this hypothesis, pp. 27-30.--The collective responsibility usually involved in the institution of the blood-feud, pp. 30-32.--Explanation of it, pp. 32-35.-- {viii} The strong tendency to discrimination which characterises resentment not wholly lost even behind the veil of common responsibility, p. 35 _sq._--Revenge among the lower animals, p. 37 _sq._--Violation of the "self-feeling" a common incentive to resentment, p. 38 _sq._--But the reaction of the wounded "self-feeling" not necessarily, in the first place, concerned with the infliction of pain, p. 39 _sq._--Revenge only a link in a chain of emotional phenomena for which "non-moral resentment" may be used as a common name, p. 40.--The origin of these phenomena, pp. 40-42.--Moral indignation closely connected with anger, p. 42 _sq._--Moral indignation, like non-moral resentment, a reactionary attitude of mind directed towards the cause of inflicted pain, though the reaction sometimes turns against innocent persons, pp. 43-48.--In their administration of justice gods still more indiscriminate than men, pp. 48-51.--Reasons for this, p. 51 _sq._--Sin looked upon in the light of a contagious matter, charged with injurious energy, pp. 52-57.--The curse looked upon as a baneful substance injuring or destroying anybody to whom it cleaves, p. 57 _sq._--The tendency of curses to spread, pp. 58-60.--Their tendency to contaminate those who derive their origin from the infected individual, p. 60 _sq._--The vicarious suffering involved in sin-transference not to be confounded with vicarious expiatory sacrifice, p. 61.--Why scapegoats are sometimes killed, pp. 61-64.--Why sacrificial victims are sometimes used as scapegoats, p. 64 _sq._--Vicarious expiatory sacrifices, pp. 65-67.--The victim accepted as a substitute on the principle of social solidarity, p. 67 _sq._--Expiatory sacrifices offered as ransoms, p. 68 _sq._--Protests of the moral consciousness against the infliction of penal suffering upon the guiltless, pp. 70-72. CHAPTER III THE NATURE OF THE MORAL EMOTIONS (_continued_) Whilst, in the course of mental evolution, the true direction of the hostile reaction involved in moral disapproval has become more apparent, its aggressive character has become more disguised, p. 73.--Kindness to enemies not a rule in early ethics, p. 73 _sq._--At the higher stages of moral development retaliation condemned and forgiveness of enemies laid down as a duty, pp. 74-77.--The rule of retaliation and the rule of forgiveness not radically opposed to each other, p. 77 _sq._--Why enlightened and sympathetic minds disapprove of resentment and retaliation springing from personal motives, p. 78 _sq._--The aggressive character of moral disapproval has also become more disguised by the different way in which the aggressiveness displays itself, p. 79.--Retributive punishment condemned, and the end of punishment considered to be either to deter from crime, or to reform the criminal, or to repress crime by eliminating or secluding him, pp. 79-81.--Objections to these theories, p. 82 _sq._--Facts which, to some extent, fill up the gap between the theory of retribution and the utilitarian theories of punishment, pp. 84-91.--The aggressive element in moral disapproval has undergone a change which tends to conceal its true nature by narrowing the channel in which it discharges itself, deliberate and discriminating resentment being apt to turn against the will rather than against the willer, p. 91 _sq._--Yet it is the instinctive desire to inflict counter-pain that gives to moral indignation its most important characteristic, p. 92 _sq._--Retributive kindly emotion a friendly attitude of mind towards a cause of pleasure, p. 93 _sq._--Retributive kindly emotion among the lower animals, p. 94.--Its intrinsic object, p. 94 _sq._--The want of discrimination which is sometimes found in retributive kindness, p. 95.--Moral approval a kind of retributive kindly emotion, _ibid._--Moral approval sometimes bestows its favours upon undeserving individuals for the merits of others, pp. 95-97.--Explanation of this, p. 97 _sq._--Protests against the notion of vicarious merit, p. 98 _sq._ {ix} CHAPTER IV THE NATURE OF THE MORAL EMOTIONS (_concluded_) Refutation of the opinion that moral emotions only arise in consequence of moral judgments, p. 100 _sq._--However, moral judgments, being definite expressions of moral emotions, help us to discover the true nature of these emotions, p. 101.--Disinterestedness and apparent impartiality characteristics by which moral indignation and approval are distinguished from other, non-moral, kinds of resentment or retributive kindly emotion, pp. 101-104.--Besides, a moral emotion has a certain flavour of generality, p. 104 _sq._--The analysis of the moral emotions which has been attempted in this and the two preceding chapters holds true not only of such emotions as we feel on account of the conduct of others, but of such emotions as we feel on account of our own conduct as well, pp. 105-107. CHAPTER V THE ORIGIN OF THE MORAL EMOTIONS We may feel disinterested resentment, or disinterested retributive kindly emotion, on account of an injury inflicted, or a benefit conferred, upon another person with whose pain, or pleasure, we sympathise, and in whose welfare we take a kindly interest, p. 108.--Sympathetic feelings based on association, p. 109 _sq._--Only when aided by the altruistic sentiment sympathy induces us to take a kindly interest in the feelings of our neighbours, and tends to produce disinterested retributive emotions, p. 110 _sq._--Sympathetic resentment to be found in all animal species which possess altruistic sentiments, p. 111 _sq._--Sympathetic resentment among savages, p. 113 _sq._--Sympathetic resentment may not only be a reaction against sympathetic pain, but may be directly produced by the cognition of the signs of anger (punishment, language, &c.), pp. 114-116.--Disinterested antipathies, p. 116 _sq._--Sympathy springing from an altruistic sentiment may also produce disinterested kindly emotion, p. 117.--Disinterested likings, _ibid._--Why disinterestedness, apparent impartiality, and the flavour of generality have become characteristics by which so-called moral emotions are distinguished from other retributive emotions, p. 117 _sq._--Custom not only a public habit, but a rule of conduct, p. 118.--Custom conceived of as a moral rule, p. 118 _sq._--In early society customs the only moral rules ever thought of, p. 119.--The characteristics of moral indignation to be sought for in its connection with custom, p. 120.--Custom characterised by generality, disinterestedness, and apparent impartiality, p. 120 _sq._--Public indignation lies at the bottom of custom as a moral rule, p. 121 _sq._--As public indignation is the prototype of moral disapproval, so public approval is the prototype of moral approval, p. 122.--Moral disapproval and approval have not always remained inseparably connected with the feelings of any special society, p. 122 _sq._--Yet they remain to the last public emotions if not in reality, then as an ideal, p. 123.--Refutation of the opinion that the original form of the moral consciousness has been the individual's own conscience, p. 123 _sq._--The antiquity of moral resentment, p. 124.--The supposition that remorse is unknown among the lower races contradicted by facts, p. 124 _sq._--Criticism of Lord Avebury's statement that modern savages seem to be almost entirely wanting in moral feeling, pp. 125-129.--The antiquity of moral approval, p. 129 _sq._ {x} CHAPTER VI ANALYSIS OF THE PRINCIPAL MORAL CONCEPTS Our analysis to be concerned with moral concepts formed by the civilised mind, p. 131.--Moral concepts among the lower races, pp. 131-133.--Language a rough generaliser, p. 133.--Analysis of the concepts _bad_, _vice_, and _wrong_, p. 134.--Of _ought_ and _duty_, pp. 134-137.--Of _right_, as an adjective, pp. 137-139.--Of _right_, as a substantive, p. 139 _sq._--Of the relations between _rights_ and _duties_, p. 140 _sq._--Of _injustice_ and _justice_, pp. 141-145.--Of _good_, pp. 145-147.--Of _virtue_, pp. 147-149.--Of the relation between _virtue_ and _duty_, p. 149 _sq._--Of _merit_, p. 150 _sq._--Of the relation between _merit_ and _duty_, p. 151 _sq._--The question of the _super-obligatory_, pp. 152-154.--The question of the morally _indifferent_, pp. 154-157. CHAPTER VII CUSTOMS AND LAWS AS EXPRESSIONS OF MORAL IDEAS How we can get an insight into the moral ideas of mankind at large, p. 158.--The close connection between the habitualness and the obligatoriness of custom, p. 159.--Though every public habit is not a custom, involving an obligation, men's standard of morality is not independent of their practice, p. 159 _sq._--The study of moral ideas to a large extent a study of customs, p. 160.--But custom never covers the whole field of morality, and the uncovered space grows larger in proportion as the moral consciousness develops, p. 160 _sq._--At the lower stages of civilisation custom the sole rule for conduct, p. 161.--Even kings described as autocrats tied by custom, p. 162.--In competition with law custom frequently carries the day, p. 163 _sq._--Custom stronger than law and religion combined, p. 164.--The laws themselves command obedience more as customs than as laws, _ibid._--Many laws were customs before they became laws, p. 165.--The transformation of customs into laws, p. 165 _sq._--Laws as expressions of moral ideas, pp. 166-168.--Punishment and indemnification, p. 168 _sq._--Definition of punishment, p. 169 _sq._--Savage punishments inflicted upon the culprit by the community at large, pp. 170-173.--By some person or persons invested with judicial authority, pp. 173-175.--The development of judicial organisation out of a previous system of lynch-law, p. 175.--Out of a previous system of private revenge, p. 176.--Public indignation displays itself not only in punishment, but to a certain extent in the custom of revenge, p. 176 _sq._--The social origin of the _lex talionis_, pp. 177-180.--The transition from revenge to punishment, and the establishment of a central judicial and executive authority, pp. 180-183.--The jurisdiction of chiefs, p. 183 _sq._--The injured party or the accuser acting as executioner, but not as judge, p. 184_sq._--The existence of punishment and judicial organisation among a certain people no exact index to its general state of culture, p. 185.--The supposition that punishment has been intended to act as a deterrent, p. 185 _sq._--Among various semi-civilised and civilised peoples the criminal law has assumed a severity which far surpasses the rigour of the _lex talionis_, pp. 186-183.--Wanton cruelty not a general characteristic of the public justice of savages, pp. 188-190. Legislators referring to the deterrent effects of punishment, p. 190 _sq._--The practice of punishing criminals in public, p. 191 _sq._--The punishment actually inflicted on the criminal in many cases much less severe than the punishment with which the law threatens him, p. 192 _sq._--The detection of criminals was in earlier times much rarer and more uncertain than it is now, p. 193.--The chief explanation of the great severity of certain {xi} criminal codes lies in their connection with despotism or religion or both, pp. 193-198.--Punishment may also be applied as a means of deterring from crime, p. 198 _sq._--But the scope which justice leaves for determent pure and simple is not wide, p. 199.--The criminal law of a community on the whole a faithful exponent of moral sentiments prevalent in that community at large, pp. 199-201. CHAPTER VIII THE GENERAL NATURE OF THE SUBJECTS OF ENLIGHTENED MORAL JUDGMENTS Definitions of the term "conduct," p. 202 _sq._--The meaning of the word "act," p. 203 _sq._--The meaning of the word "intention," p. 204.--There can be only one intention in one act, p. 204 _sq._ The moral judgments which we pass on acts do not really relate to the event, but to the intention, p. 205 _sq._--A person morally accountable also for his deliberate wishes, p. 206.--A deliberate wish is a volition, p. 206 _sq._--The meaning of the word "motive," p. 207.--Motives which are volitions fall within the sphere of moral valuation, _ibid._--The motive of an act may be an intention, but an intention belonging to another act, _ibid._--Even motives which consist of non-volitional conations may indirectly exercise much influence on moral judgments, p. 207 _sq._--Refutation of Mill's statement that "the motive has nothing to do with the morality of the action," p. 208 _sq._--Moral judgments really passed upon men as acting or willing, not upon acts or volitions in the abstract, p. 209. --Forbearances morally equivalent to acts, p. 209 _sq._--Distinction between forbearances and omissions, p. 210.--Moral judgments refer not only to willing, but to not-willing as well, not only to acts and forbearances, but to omissions, p. 210 _sq._--Negligence, heedlessness, and rashness, p. 211.--Moral judgments of blame concerned with not-willing only in so far as this not-willing is attributed to a defect of the "will," p. 211 _sq._--Distinction between conscious omissions and forbearances, and between not-willing to refrain from doing and willing to do, p. 212.--The "known concomitants of acts," p. 213.--Absence of volitions also gives rise to moral praise, p. 213 _sq._--The meaning of the term "conduct," p. 214.--The subject of a moral judgment is, strictly speaking, a person's will, or character, conceived as the cause either of volitions or of the absence of volitions, p. 214 _sq._--Moral judgments that are passed on emotions or opinions really refer to the will, p. 215 _sq._ CHAPTER IX THE WILL AS THE SUBJECT OF MORAL JUDGMENT AND THE INFLUENCE OF EXTERNAL EVENTS Cases in which no distinction is made between intentional and accidental injuries, pp. 217-219.--Yet even in the system of self-redress intentional or foreseen injuries often distinguished from unintentional and unforeseen injuries, pp. 219-221.--A similar distinction made in the punishments inflicted by many savages, p. 221 _sq._--Uncivilised peoples who entirely excuse, or do not punish, persons for injuries which they have inflicted by mere accident, p. 222 _sq._--Peoples of a higher culture who punish persons for bringing about events without any fault of theirs, pp. 223-226.--At the earlier stages of civilisation gods, in particular, attach undue importance to the outward aspect of conduct, pp. 226-231.--Explanation of all these facts, pp. 231-237.--The great influence which the outward event exercises upon moral estimates even among ourselves, pp. 238-240. --Carelessness generally not punished if no injurious result follows, p. 241.--An unsuccessful attempt to commit a criminal act, if punished at all, as a rule punished much less {xii} severely than the accomplished act, p. 241 _sq._--Exceptions to this rule, p. 242.--The question, which attempts should be punished, p. 243.--The stage at which an attempt begins to be criminal, and the distinction between attempts and acts of preparation, p. 243 _sq._--The rule that an outward event is requisite for the infliction of punishment, p. 244 _sq._--Exceptions to this rule, p. 245.--Explanation of laws referring to unsuccessful attempts, pp. 245-247.--Moral approval influenced by external events, p. 247.--Owing to its very nature, the moral consciousness, when sufficiently influenced by thought, regards the will as the only proper object of moral disapproval or praise, p. 247 _sq._ CHAPTER X AGENTS UNDER INTELLECTUAL DISABILITY An agent not responsible for anything which he could not be aware of, p. 249.--The irresponsibility of animals, pp. 249-251.--Resentment towards an animal which has caused some injury, p. 251.--At the lower stages of civilisation animals deliberately treated as responsible beings, _ibid._--The custom of blood-revenge extended to the animal world, pp. 251-253.--Animals exposed to regular punishment, pp. 253-255. --The origin of the mediæval practice of punishing animals, p. 255 _sq._ --Explanation of the practice of retaliating upon animals, pp. 256-260. --At the earlier stages of civilisation even inanimate things treated as if they were responsible agents, pp. 260-262.--Explanation of this, pp. 262-264.--The total or partial irresponsibility of childhood and early youth, pp. 264-267.--According to early custom, children sometimes subject to the rule of retaliation, p. 267. --Parents responsible for the deeds of their children, p. 267 _sq._--In Europe there has been a tendency to raise the age at which full legal responsibility commences, p. 268 _sq._--The irresponsibility of idiots and madmen, p. 269 _sq._--Idiots and insane persons objects of religious reverence, p. 270 _sq._--Lunatics treated with great severity or punished for their deeds, pp. 271-274.--Explanation of this, p. 274 _sq._--The ignorance of which lunatics have been victims in the hands of lawyers, pp. 275-277.--The total or partial irresponsibility of intoxicated persons, p. 277 _sq._--Drunkenness recognised as a ground of extenuation, pp. 278-280.--Not recognised as a ground of extenuation, p. 280 _sq._--Explanation of these facts, p. 281 _sq._ CHAPTER XI MOTIVES Motives considered only in proportion as the moral judgment is influenced by reflection, p. 283.--Little consideration for the sense of duty as a motive, _ibid._--Somewhat greater discrimination shown in regard to motives consisting of powerful non-volitional conations, p. 283 _sq._--Compulsion as a ground of extenuation, p. 284 _sq._--"Compulsion by necessity," pp. 285-287.--Self-defence, pp. 288-290.--Self-redress in the case of adultery, and other survivals of the old system of self-redress, pp. 290-294.--The moral distinction made between an injury which a person inflicts deliberately, in cold blood, and one which he inflicts in the heat of the moment, on provocation, pp. 294-297.--Explanation of this distinction, p. 297 _sq._--The pressure of a non-volitional motive on the will as a ground of extenuation, p. 298 _sq._--That moral judgments are generally passed, in the first instance, with reference to acts immediately intended, and consider motives only in proportion as the judgment is influenced by reflection, holds good not only of moral blame, but of moral praise, pp. 299-302. {xiii} CHAPTER XII FORBEARANCES AND CARELESSNESS--CHARACTER Why in early moral codes the so-called negative commandments are much more prominent than the positive commandments, p. 303.--The little cognisance which the criminal laws of civilised nations take of forbearances and omissions, p. 303 _sq._--The more scrutinising the moral consciousness, the greater the importance which it attaches to positive commandments, p. 304 _sq._--Yet the customs of all nations contain not only prohibitions, but positive injunctions as well, p. 305.--The unreflecting mind apt to exaggerate the guilt of a person who out of heedlessness or rashness causes harm by a positive act, _ibid._--Early custom and law may be anxious enough to trace an event to its source, pp. 305-307.--But they easily fail to discover where there is guilt or not, and, in case of carelessness, to determine the magnitude of the offender's guilt, p. 307 _sq._--The opinion that a person is answerable for all the damage which directly ensues from an act of his, even though no foresight could have reasonably been expected to look out for it, p. 308 _sq._--On the other hand, little or no censure passed on him whose want of foresight or want of self-restraint is productive of suffering, if only the effect is sufficiently remote, p. 309 _sq._--The moral emotions may as naturally give rise to judgments on human character as to judgments on human conduct, p. 310.--Even when a moral judgment immediately refers to a distinct act, it takes notice of the agent's will as a whole, p. 310 _sq._--The practice of punishing a second or third offence more severely than the first, p. 311 _sq._--The more a moral judgment is influenced by reflection, the more it scrutinises the character which manifests itself in that individual piece of conduct by which the judgment is occasioned, p. 312 _sq._--But however superficial it be, it always refers to a will conceived of as a continuous entity, p. 313. CHAPTER XIII WHY MORAL JUDGMENTS ARE PASSED ON CONDUCT AND CHARACTER--MORAL VALUATION AND FREE-WILL Explanation of the fact that moral judgments are passed on conduct and character, p. 314.--The correctness of this explanation proved by the circumstance that not only moral emotions, but non-moral retributive emotions as well, are felt with reference to phenomena exactly similar in nature to those on which moral judgments are passed, pp. 314-319.--Whether moral or non-moral, a retributive emotion is essentially directed towards a sensitive and volitional entity, or self, conceived of as the cause of pleasure or the cause of pain, p. 319.--The futility of other attempts to solve the problem, p. 319 _sq._--The nature of the moral emotions also gives us the key to the problem of the co-existence of moral responsibility with the general law of cause and effect, p. 320.--The theory according to which responsibility, in the ordinary sense of the term, and moral judgments generally, are inconsistent with the notion that the human will is determined by causes, p. 320 _sq._--Yet, as a matter of fact, moral indignation and moral approval are felt by determinists and libertarians alike, p. 321 _sq._--Explanation of the fallacy which lies at the bottom of the conception that moral valuation is inconsistent with determinism, p. 322.--Causation confounded with compulsion, pp. 322-324.--The difference between fatalism and determinism, pp. 324-326.--The moral emotions not concerned with the origin of the innate character, p. 326. {xiv} CHAPTER XIV PRELIMINARY REMARKS--HOMICIDE IN GENERAL Necessity of restricting the investigation to the more important modes of conduct with which the moral consciousness is concerned, p. 327 _sq._--The six groups into which these modes of conduct may be divided, p. 328.--The most sacred duty which we owe to our fellow-creatures generally considered to be regard for their lives, _ibid._--Among various uncivilised peoples human life said to be held very cheap, p. 328 _sq._--Among others homicide or murder said to be hardly known, p. 329 _sq._--In other instances homicide expressly said to be regarded as wrong, p. 330 _sq._--In every society custom prohibits homicide within a certain circle of men, p. 331.--Savages distinguish between an act of homicide committed within their own community and one where the victim is a stranger, pp. 331-333.--In various instances, however, the rule, "Thou shalt not kill," applies even to foreigners, p. 333 _sq._--Some uncivilised peoples said to have no wars, p. 334.--Savages' recognition of intertribal rights in times of peace obvious from certain customs connected with their wars, p. 334 _sq._--Savage custom does not always allow indiscriminate slaughter even in warfare, p. 335 _sq._--The readiness with which savages engage in war, p. 337.--The old distinction between injuries committed against compatriots and harm done to foreigners remains among peoples more advanced in culture, p. 337 _sq._--The readiness with which such peoples wage war on foreign nations, and the estimation in which the successful warrior is held, pp. 338-340.--The life of a guest sacred, p. 340.--The commencement of international hostilities preceded by special ceremonies, _ibid._--Warfare in some cases condemned, or a distinction made between just and unjust war, pp. 340-342.--Even in war the killing of an enemy under certain circumstances prohibited, either by custom or by enlightened moral opinion, pp. 342-344. CHAPTER XV HOMICIDE IN GENERAL (_continued_) Homicide of any kind condemned by the early Christians, p. 345.--Their total condemnation of warfare, p. 345 _sq._--This attitude towards war was soon given up, pp. 346-348.--The feeling that a soldier scarcely could make a good Christian, p. 348.--Penance prescribed for those who had shed blood in war, p. 348 _sq._--Wars forbidden by popes, p. 349. --The military Christianity of the Crusades, pp. 348-352.--Chivalry, pp. 352-354.--The intimate connection between chivalry and religion displayed in tournaments, p. 354 _sq._--The practice of private war, p. 355 _sq._--The attitude of the Church towards private war, p. 356.--The Truce of God, p. 357.--The main cause of the abolition of private war was the increase of the authority of emperors or kings, p. 357 _sq._--War looked upon as a judgment of God, p. 358.--The attitude adopted by the great Christian congregations towards war one of sympathetic approval, pp. 359-362.--Religious protests against war, pp. 362-365.--Freethinkers' opposition to war, pp. 365-367.--The idea of a perpetual peace, p. 367.--The awakening spirit of nationalism, and the glorification of war, p. 367 _sq._--Arguments against arbitration, p. 368.--The opposition against war rapidly increasing, p. 368 _sq._--The prohibition of needless destruction in war, p. 369 _sq._--The survival, in modern civilisation, of the old feeling that the life of a foreigner is not equally sacred with that of a countryman, p. 370.--The behaviour of European colonists towards coloured races, p. 370 _sq._ {xv} CHAPTER XVI HOMICIDE IN GENERAL (_concluded_) Sympathetic resentment felt on account of the injury suffered by the victim a potent cause of the condemnation of homicide, p. 372 _sq._--No such resentment felt if the victim is a member of another group, p. 373.--Why extra-tribal homicide is approved of, _ibid._--Superstition an encouragement to extra-tribal homicide, _ibid._--The expansion of the altruistic sentiment largely explains why the prohibition of homicide has come to embrace more and more comprehensive circles of men, _ibid._--Homicide viewed as an injury inflicted upon the survivors, p. 373 _sq._--Conceived as a breach of the "King's peace," p. 374.--Stigmatised as a disturbance of public tranquillity and an outrage on public safety, _ibid._--Homicide disapproved of because the manslayer gives trouble to his own people, p. 374 _sq._--The idea that a manslayer is unclean, pp. 375-377.--The influence which this idea has exercised on the moral judgment of homicide, p. 377.--The disapproval of the deed easily enhanced by the spiritual danger attending on it, as also by the inconvenient restrictions laid on the tabooed manslayer and the ceremonies of purification to which he is subject, p. 377 _sq._--The notion of a persecuting ghost may be replaced by the notion of an avenging god, pp. 378-380.--The defilement resulting from homicide particularly shunned by gods, p. 380 _sq._--Priests forbidden to shed human blood, p. 381 _sq._--Reasons for Christianity's high regard for human life, p. 382. CHAPTER XVII THE KILLING OF PARENTS, SICK PERSONS, CHILDREN-FETICIDE Parricide the most aggravated form of murder, pp. 383-386.--The custom of abandoning or killing parents who are worn out with age or disease, p. 386 _sq._--Its causes, pp. 387-390.--The custom of abandoning or killing persons suffering from some illness, p. 391 _sq._--Its causes, p. 392 _sq._--The father's power of life and death over his children, p. 393 _sq._--Infanticide among many savage races permitted or even enjoined by custom, pp. 394-398.--The causes of infanticide, and how it has grown into a regular custom, pp. 398-402.--Among many savages infanticide said to be unheard of or almost so, p. 402 _sq._--The custom of infanticide not a survival of earliest savagery, but seems to have grown up under specific conditions in later stages of development, p. 403.--Savages who disapprove of infanticide, p. 403 _sq._--The custom of infanticide in most cases requires that the child should be killed immediately or soon after its birth, p. 404 _sq._--Infanticide among semi-civilised or civilised races, pp. 405-411.--The practice of exposing new-born infants vehemently denounced by the early Fathers of the Church, p. 411.--Christian horror of infanticide, p. 411 _sq._--The punishment of infanticide in Christian countries, p. 412 _sq._--Feticide among savages, p. 413 _sq._--Among more civilised nations, p. 414 _sq._--According to Christian views, a form of murder, p. 415 _sq._--Distinctions between an _embryo informatus_ and an _embryo formatus_, p. 416 _sq._--Modern legislation and opinion concerning feticide, p. 417. CHAPTER XVIII THE KILLING OF WOMEN, AND OF SLAVES--THE CRIMINALITY OF HOMICIDE INFLUENCED BY DISTINCTIONS OF CLASS The husband's power of life and death over his wife among many of the lower races, p. 418 _sq._--The right of punishing his wife capitally not universally {xvi} granted to the husband in uncivilised communities, p. 419.--The husband's power of life and death among peoples of a higher type, _ibid._--Uxoricide punished less severely than matricide, p. 419 _sq._--The estimate of a woman's life sometimes lower than that of a man's, sometimes equal to it, sometimes higher, p. 420 _sq._--The master's power of life and death over his slave, p. 421 _sq._--The right, among many savages, of killing his slave at his own discretion expressly denied to the master, p. 422 _sq._--The murder of another person's slave largely regarded as an offence against the property of the owner, but not exclusively looked upon in this light, p. 423.--When the system of blood-money prevails, the price paid for the life of a slave less than that paid for the life of a freeman, _ibid._--Among the nations of archaic culture, also, the life of a slave held in less estimation than that of a freeman, but not even the master in all circumstances allowed to put his slave to death, pp. 423-426.--Efforts of the Christian Church to secure the life of the slave against the violence of the master, p. 426.--But neither the ecclesiastical nor the secular legislation gave him the same protection as was bestowed upon the free member of the Church and State, pp. 426-428.--In modern times, in Christian countries, the life of the negro slave was only inadequately protected by law, p. 428 _sq._--Why the life of a slave is held in so little regard, p. 429.--The killing of a freeman by a slave, especially if the victim be his owner, commonly punished more severely than if the same act were done by a free person, p. 429 _sq._--In the estimate of life a distinction also made between different classes of freemen, p. 430 _sq._--The magnitude of the crime may depend not only on the rank of the victim, but on the rank of the manslayer as well, pp. 431-433. --Explanation of this influence of class, p. 433.--In progressive societies each member of the society at last admitted to be born with an equal claim to the right to live, _ibid._ CHAPTER XIX HUMAN SACRIFICE The prevalence of human sacrifice, pp. 434-436.--This practice much more frequently found among barbarians and semi-civilised peoples than among genuine savages, p. 436 _sq._--Among some peoples it has been noticed to become increasingly prevalent in the course of time, p. 437.--Human sacrifice partly due to the idea that gods have an appetite for human flesh or blood, p. 437 _sq._--Sometimes connected with the idea that gods require attendants, p. 438.--Moreover, an angry god may be appeased simply by the death of him or those who aroused his anger, or of some representative of the offending community, or of somebody belonging to the kin of the offender, pp. 438-440.--Human sacrifice chiefly a method of life-insurance, based on the idea of substitution, p. 440.--Human victims offered in war, before a battle, or during a siege, p. 440 _sq._--For the purpose of stopping or preventing epidemics, p. 441 _sq._--For the purpose of putting an end to a devastating famine, p. 442 _sq._--For the purpose of preventing famine, p. 443 _sq._--Criticism of Dr. Frazer's hypothesis that the human victim who is killed for the purpose of ensuring good crops is regarded as a representative of the corn-spirit and is slain as such, pp. 444-451.--Human victims offered with a view to getting water, p. 451 _sq._--With a view to averting perils arising from the sea or from rivers, pp. 452-454.--For the purpose of preventing the death of some particular individual, especially a chief or a king, from sickness, old age, or other circumstances, pp. 454-457.--For the purpose of helping other men into existence, p. 457 _sq._--The killing of the first-born child, or the first-born son, p. 458 _sq._--Explanation of this practice, pp. 459-461.--Human sacrifices offered in connection with the foundation of buildings, p. 461 _sq._--The building-sacrifice, like other kinds of human sacrifice, probably based on the idea of substitution, pp.462-464. --The belief that {xvii} the soul of the victim is converted into a protecting demon, p. 464 _sq._--The human victim regarded as a messenger, p. 465 _sq._--Human sacrifice not an act of wanton cruelty, p. 466.--The king or chief sometimes sacrificed, _ibid._--The victims frequently prisoners of war or other aliens, or slaves, or criminals, pp. 466-468.--The disappearance of human sacrifice, p. 468.--Human sacrifice condemned, p. 465 _sq._--Practices intended to replace it, p. 469.--Human effigies or animals offered instead of men, p. 469 _sq._--Human sacrifices succeeded by practices involving the effusion of human blood without loss of life, p. 470.--Bleeding or mutilation practised for the same purpose as human sacrifice, p. 470 _sq._--Why the penal sacrifice of offenders has outlived all other forms of human sacrifice, p. 471.--Human beings sacrificed to the dead in order to serve them as slaves, wives, or companions, pp. 472-474.--This custom dwindling into a survival, p. 475.--The funeral sacrifice of men and animals also seems to involve an intention to vivify the spirits of the deceased with blood, p. 475 _sq._--Manslayers killed in order to satisfy their victims' craving for revenge, p. 476. CHAPTER XX BLOOD-REVENGE AND COMPENSATION--THE PUNISHMENT OF DEATH The prevalence of the custom of blood-revenge, pp. 477-479.--Blood-revenge regarded not only as a right, but as a duty, p. 479 _sq._--This duty in the first place regarded as a duty to the dead, whose spirit is believed to find no rest after death until the injury has been avenged, p. 481 _sq._--Blood-revenge a form of human sacrifice, p. 482.--Blood-revenge also practised on account of the injury inflicted on the survivors, p. 482 _sq._--Murder committed within the family or kin left unavenged, p. 483.--The injury inflicted on the relatives of the murdered man suggests not only revenge, but reparation, _ibid._--The taking of life for life may itself, in a way, serve as compensation, p. 483 _sq._--Various methods of compensation, p. 484.--The advantages of the practice of composition, p. 484 _sq._--Its disadvantages, p. 485.--The importance of these disadvantages depends on the circumstances in each special case, p. 486 _sq._--Among many peoples the rule of revenge strictly followed, and to accept compensation considered disgraceful, p. 487.--The acceptance of compensation does not always mean that the family of the slain altogether renounce their right of revenge, p. 487 _sq._--The acceptance of compensation allowed as a justifiable alternative for blood-revenge, or even regarded as the proper method of settling the case, p. 488 _sq._--The system of compensation partly due to the pressure of some intervening authority, p. 489 _sq._--The adoption of this method for the settling of disputes a sign of weakness, p. 491.--When the central power of jurisdiction is firmly established, the rule of life for life regains its sway, _ibid._--A person may forfeit his right to live by other crimes besides homicide, p. 491 _sq._--Opposition to and arguments against capital punishment, pp. 492-495.--Modern legislation has undergone a radical change with reference to capital punishment, p. 495.--Arguments against its abolition, p. 495 _sq._--The chief motive for retaining it in modern legislation, p. 496. CHAPTER XXI THE DUEL Duelling resorted to as a means of bringing to an end hostilities between different groups of people, p. 497 _sq._--Duels fought for the purpose of settling disputes between individuals, either by conferring on the victor the right of possessing {xviii} the object of the strife, or by gratifying a craving for revenge and wiping off the affront, pp. 498-502.--The circumstances to which these customs are due, p. 503 _sq._--The duel as an ordeal or "judgment of God," p. 504 _sq._--The judicial duel fundamentally derived its efficacy as a means of ascertaining the truth from its connection with an oath, p. 505 _sq._ How it came to be regarded as an appeal to the justice of God, p. 506 _sq._--The decline and disappearance of the judicial duel, p. 507.--The modern duel of honour, pp. 507-509.--Its causes, p. 509.--Arguments adduced in support of it, p. 509 _sq._ CHAPTER XXII BODILY INJURIES In the case of bodily injuries the magnitude of the offence, other things being equal, proportionate to the harm inflicted, pp. 511-513.--The degree of the offence also depends on the station of the parties concerned, and in some cases the infliction of pain held allowable or even a duty, p. 513.--Children using violence against their parents, _ibid._--Parents' right to inflict corporal punishment on their children, p. 513 _sq._--The husband's right to chastise his wife, pp. 514-516.--The master's right to inflict corporal punishment on his slave, p. 516 _sq._--The maltreatment of another person's slave regarded as an injury done to the master, rather than to the slave, p. 517.--Slaves severely punished for inflicting bodily injuries on freemen, p. 510.--The penalties or fines for bodily injuries influenced by the class or rank of the parties when both of them are freemen, p. 518 _sq._--Distinction between compatriots and aliens with reference to bodily injuries, p. 519.--The infliction of sufferings on vanquished enemies, p. 519 _sq._--The right to bodily integrity influenced by religious differences, p. 520--Forfeited by the commission of a crime, p. 520 _sq._--Amputation or mutilation of the offending member has particularly been in vogue among peoples of culture, p. 521 _sq._--The disappearance of corporal punishment in Europe, p. 522.--Corporal punishment has been by preference a punishment for poor and common people or slaves, p. 522 _sq._--The status of a person influencing his right to bodily integrity with reference to judicial torture, p. 523 _sq._--Explanation of the moral notions regarding the infliction of bodily injuries, p. 524.--The notions that an act of bodily violence involves a gross insult, and that corporal punishment disgraces the criminal more than any other form of penalty, p. 524 _sq._ CHAPTER XXIII CHARITY AND GENEROSITY The mother's duty to rear her children, p. 526.--The husband's and father's duty to protect and support his family, pp. 526-529.--The parents' duty of taking care of their offspring in the first place based on the sentiment of parental affection, p. 529.--The universality not only of the maternal, but of the paternal, sentiment in mankind, pp. 529-532.--Marital affection among savages, p. 532.--Explanation of the simplest paternal and marital duties, p. 533--Children's duty of supporting their aged parents, pp. 533-538. The duty of assisting brothers and sisters, p. 538.--Of assisting more distant relatives, pp. 538-540.--Uncivilised peoples as a rule described as kind towards members of their own community or tribe, enjoin charity between themselves as a duty, and praise generosity as a virtue, pp. 540-546.--Among many savages the old people, in particular, have a claim to support and assistance, p. 546.--The sick often carefully attended to, pp. 546-548.-- {xix} Accounts of uncharitable savages, p. 548 _sq._--Among semi-civilised and civilised nations charity universally regarded as a duty, and often strenuously enjoined by their religions, pp. 549-556.--In the course of progressing civilisation the obligation of assisting the needy has been extended to wider and wider circles of men, pp. 556-558.--The duty of tending wounded enemies in war, p. 558.--Explanation of the gradual expansion of the duty of charity, p. 559.--This duty in the first place based on the altruistic sentiment, p. 559 _sq._--Egoistic motives for the doing of good to fellow-creatures, p. 560.--By niggardliness a person may expose himself to supernatural dangers, pp. 560-562.--Liberality may entail supernatural reward, p. 562 _sq._ --The curses and blessings of the poor partly account for the fact that charity has come to be regarded as a religious duty, pp. 563-565.--The chief cause of the extraordinary stress which the higher religions put on the duty of charity seems to lie in the connection between almsgiving and sacrifice, the poor becoming the natural heirs of the god, p. 565.--Instances of sacrificial food being left for, or distributed among, the poor, p. 565 _sq._--Almsgiving itself regarded as a form of sacrifice, or taking the place of it, pp. 566-569. CHAPTER XXIV HOSPITALITY Instances of great kindness displayed by savages towards persons of a foreign race, pp. 570-572.--Hospitality a universal custom among the lower races and among the peoples of culture at the earlier stages of their civilisation, pp. 572-574.--The stranger treated with special marks of honour, and enjoying extraordinary privileges as a guest, pp. 574-576.--Custom may require that hospitality should be shown even to an enemy, p. 576 _sq._--To protect a guest looked upon as a most stringent duty, p. 577 _sq._--Hospitality in a remarkable degree associated with religion, pp. 578-580.--The rules of hospitality in the main based on egoistic considerations, p. 581.--The stranger, supposed to bring with him good luck or blessings, pp. 581-583.--The blessings of a stranger considered exceptionally powerful, p. 583 _sq._--The visiting stranger regarded as a potential source of evil, p. 584.--His evil wishes and curses greatly feared, owing partly to his quasi-supernatural character, partly to the close contact in which he comes with the host and his belongings, pp. 584-590.--Precautions taken against the visiting stranger, pp. 590-593.--Why no payment is received from a guest, p. 593 _sq._--The duty of hospitality limited by time, p. 594 _sq._--The cause of this, p. 595 _sq._--The decline of hospitality in progressive communities, p. 596. CHAPTER XXV THE SUBJECTION OF CHILDREN The right of personal freedom never absolute, p. 597.--Among some savages a man's children are in the power of the head of their mother's family or of their maternal uncle, p. 597 _sq._--Among the great bulk of existing savages children are in the power of their father, though he may to some extent have to share his authority with the mother, p. 598 _sq._--The extent of the father's power subject to great variations, p. 599.--Among some savages the father's authority practically very slight, p. 599 _sq._--Other savages by no means deficient in filial piety, p. 600 _sq._--The period during which the paternal authority lasts, p. 601 _sq._--Old age commands respect and gives authority, pp. 603-605.--Superiority of age also gives a certain amount {xx} of power, p. 605 _sq._--The reverence for old age may cease when the grey-head becomes an incumbrance to those around him, and imbecility may put an end to the father's authority over his family, p. 606 _sq._--Paternal, or parental, authority and filial reverence at their height among peoples of archaic culture, pp. 607-613.--Among these peoples we also meet with reverence for the elder brother, for persons of a superior age generally, and especially for the aged, p. 614 _sq._--Decline of the paternal authority in Europe, p. 615 _sq._--Christianity not unfavourable to the emancipation of children, though obedience to parents was enjoined as a Christian duty, p. 616 _sq._--The Roman notions of paternal rights and filial duties have to some extent survived in Latin countries, p. 617 _sq._--Sources of the parental authority, p. 618 _sq._--Among savages, in particular, filial regard is largely regard for one's elders or the aged, p. 619.--Causes of the regard for old age, pp. 619-621.--The chief cause of the connection between filial submissiveness and religious beliefs the extreme importance attached to parental curses and blessings, pp. 621-626.--Why the blessings and curses of parents are supposed to possess an unusual power, p. 626 _sq._--Explanation of the extraordinary development of the paternal authority in the archaic State, p. 627 _sq._--Causes of the downfall of the paternal power, p. 628. CHAPTER XXVI THE SUBJECTION OF WIVES Among the lower races the wife frequently said to be the property or slave of her husband, p. 629 _sq._--Yet even in such cases custom has not left her entirely destitute of rights, p. 630 _sq._--The so-called absolute authority of husbands over their wives not to be taken too literally, p. 631 _sq._--The bride-price does not _eo ipso_ confer on the husband absolute rights over her, p. 632 _sq._--The hardest drudgeries of life often said to be imposed on the women, p. 633 _sq._--In early society each sex has its own pursuits, p. 634.--The rules according to which the various occupations of life are divided between the sexes are on the whole in conformity with the indications given by nature, p. 635 _sq._--This division of labour emphasised by custom and superstition, p. 636 _sq._--It is apt to mislead the travelling stranger, p. 637.--It gives the wife authority within the circle which is exclusively her own, _ibid._--Rejection of the broad statement that the lower races in general hold their women in a state of almost complete subjection, pp. 638-646.--The opinion that a people's civilisation may be measured by the position held by the women not correct, at least so far as the earlier stages of culture are concerned, p. 646 _sq._--The position of woman among the peoples of archaic civilisation, pp. 647-653.--Christianity tended to narrow the remarkable liberty granted to married women under the Roman Empire, p. 653 _sq._--Christian orthodoxy opposed to the doctrine that marriage should be a contract on the footing of perfect equality between husband and wife, p. 654 _sq._--Criticism of the hypothesis that the social _status_ of women is connected with the system of tracing descent, p. 655 _sq._--The authority of a husband who lives with his wife in the house or community of her father, p. 656 _sq._--Wives' subjection to their husbands in the first place due to the men's instinctive desire to exert power, and to the natural inferiority of women in such qualities of body and mind as are essential for personal independence, p. 657.--Elements in the sexual impulse which lead to domination on the part of the man and to submission on the part of the woman, p. 657 _sq._--But if the man's domination is carried beyond the limits of female love, the woman feels it as a burden, p. 658 _sq._--In extreme cases of oppression, at any rate, the community at large would sympathise with her, and the public resentment against the oppressor would result in customs or laws limiting the {xxi} husband's rights, p. 659.--The offended woman may count upon the support of her fellow-sisters, _ibid._--The children's affection and regard for their mother gives her power, _ibid._--The influence which economic conditions exercise on the position of woman, pp. 659-661.--The status of wives connected with the ideas held about the female sex in general, p. 661.--Woman regarded as intellectually and morally vastly inferior to man, especially among nations more advanced in culture, pp. 661-663. --Progress in civilisation has exercised an unfavourable influence on the position of woman by widening the gulf between the sexes, p. 663.--Religion has contributed to her degradation by regarding her as unclean, p. 663 _sq._--Women excluded from religious worship and sacred functions, pp. 664-666.--The notion that woman is unclean, however, gives her a secret power over her husband, as women are supposed to be better versed in magic than men, pp. 666-668.--The curses of women greatly feared, p. 668.--Woman as an asylum, p. 668 _sq._--In archaic civilisation the _status_ of married women was affected by the fact that the house-father was invested with some part of the power which formerly belonged to the clan, p. 669.--Causes of the decrease of the husband's authority over his wife in modern civilisation, _ibid._ CHAPTER XXVII SLAVERY Definition of slavery, p. 670 _sq._--The distribution of slavery and its causes among savages, pp. 671-674.--The earliest source of slavery was probably war or conquest, p. 674 _sq._--Intra-tribal slavery among savages, p. 675 _sq._--The master's power over his slave among slave-holding savages, pp. 676-678.--Among the lower races slaves are generally treated kindly, pp. 678-680.--Intra-tribal slaves, especially such as are born in the house, generally treated better than extra-tribal or purchased slaves, p. 680 _sq._--Slavery among the nations of archaic culture, pp. 681-693.--The attitude of Christianity towards slavery, pp. 693-700.--The supposed causes of the extinction of slavery in Europe, pp. 697-701.--The chief cause the transformation of slavery into serfdom, p. 701.--Serfdom only a transitory condition leading up to a state of entire liberty, pp. 701-703.--The attitude of the Church towards serfdom, p. 703 _sq._--The negro slavery in the colonies of European countries and the Southern States of America, and the legislation relating to it, pp. 704-711.--The support given to it by the clergy, pp. 711-713.--The want of sympathy for, or positive antipathy to, the coloured race, p. 713 _sq._--The opinions regarding slavery and the condition of slaves influenced by altruistic considerations, p. 714 _sq._--The condition of slaves influenced by the selfish considerations of their masters, p. 715 _sq._ THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE MORAL IDEAS THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE MORAL IDEAS INTRODUCTORY THE main object of this book will perhaps be best explained by a few words concerning its origin. Its author was once discussing with some friends the point how far a bad man ought to be treated with kindness. The opinions were divided, and, in spite of much deliberation, unanimity could not be attained. It seemed strange that the disagreement should be so radical, and the question arose, Whence this diversity of opinion? Is it due to defective knowledge, or has it a merely sentimental origin? And the problem gradually expanded. Why do the moral ideas in general differ so greatly? And, on the other hand, why is there in many cases such a wide agreement? Nay, why are there any moral ideas at all? Since then many years have passed, spent by the author in trying to find an answer to these questions. The present work is the result of his researches and thoughts. The first part of it will comprise a study of the moral concepts: right, wrong, duty, justice, virtue, merit, &c. Such a study will be found to require an examination into the moral emotions, their nature and origin, as also into the relations between these emotions and the various {2} moral concepts. There will then be a discussion of the phenomena to which such concepts are applied--the subjects of moral judgments. The general character of these phenomena will be scrutinised, and an answer sought to the question why facts of a certain type are matters of moral concern, while other facts are not. finally, the most important of these phenomena will be classified, and the moral ideas relating to each class will be stated, and, so far as possible, explained. An investigation of this kind cannot be confined to feelings and ideas prevalent in any particular society or at any particular stage of civilisation. Its subject-matter is the moral consciousness of mankind at large. It consequently involves the survey of an unusually rich and varied field of research--psychological, ethnographical, historical, juridical, theological. In the present state of our knowledge, when monographs on most of the subjects involved are wanting, I presume that such an undertaking is, strictly speaking, too big for any man; at any rate it is so for the writer of this book. Nothing like completeness can be aimed at. Hypotheses of varying degrees of probability must only too often be resorted to. Even the certainty of the statements on which conclusions are based is not always beyond a doubt. But though fully conscious of the many defects of his attempt, the author nevertheless ventures to think himself justified in placing it before the public. It seems to him that one of the most important objects of human speculation cannot be left in its present state of obscurity; that at least a glimpse of light must be thrown upon it by researches which have extended over some fifteen years; and that the main principles underlying the various customs of mankind may be arrived at even without subjecting these customs to such a full and minute treatment as would be required of an anthropological monograph. Possibly this essay, in spite of its theoretical character, may even be of some practical use. Though rooted in the emotional side of our nature, our moral {3} opinions are in a large measure amenable to reason. Now in every society the traditional notions as to what is good or bad, obligatory or indifferent, are commonly accepted by the majority of people without further reflection. By tracing them to their source it will be found that not a few of these notions have their origin in sentimental likings and antipathies, to which a scrutinising and enlightened judge can attach little importance; whilst, on the other hand, he must account blamable many an act and omission which public opinion, out of thoughtlessness, treats with indifference. It will, moreover, appear that a moral estimate often survives the cause from which it sprang. And no unprejudiced person can help changing his views if he be persuaded that they have no foundation in existing facts. CHAPTER I THE EMOTIONAL ORIGIN OF MORAL JUDGMENTS THAT the moral concepts are ultimately based on emotions either of indignation or approval, is a fact which a certain school of thinkers have in vain attempted to deny. The terms which embody these concepts must originally have been used--indeed they still constantly are so used--as direct expressions of such emotions with reference to the phenomena which evoked them. Men pronounced certain acts to be good or bad on account of the emotions those acts aroused in their minds, just as they called sunshine warm and ice cold on account of certain sensations which they experienced, and as they named a thing pleasant or painful because they felt pleasure or pain. But to attribute a quality to a thing is never the same as merely to state the existence of a particular sensation or feeling in the mind which perceives it. Such an attribution must mean that the thing, under certain circumstances, makes a certain impression on the mind. By calling an object warm or pleasant, a person asserts that it is apt to produce in him a sensation of heat or a feeling of pleasure. Similarly, to name an act good or bad, ultimately implies that it is apt to give rise to an emotion of approval or disapproval in him who pronounces the judgment. Whilst not affirming the actual existence of any specific emotion in the mind of the person judging or of anybody else, the predicate of a moral judgment attributes to the subject a tendency to arouse an emotion. The moral {5} concepts, then, are essentially generalisations of tendencies in certain phenomena to call forth moral emotions. However, as is frequently the case with general terms, these concepts are mentioned without any distinct idea of their contents. The relation in which many of them stand to the moral emotions is complicated; the use of them is often vague; and ethical theorisers, instead of subjecting them to a careful analysis, have done their best to increase the confusion by adapting the meaning of the terms to fit their theories. Very commonly, in the definition of the goodness or badness of acts, reference is made, not to their tendencies to evoke emotions of approval or indignation, but to the causes of these tendencies, that is, to those qualities in the acts which call forth moral emotions. Thus, because good acts generally produce pleasure and bad acts pain, goodness and badness have been identified with the tendencies of acts to produce pleasure or pain. The following statement of Sir James Stephen is a clearly expressed instance of this confusion, so common among utilitarians:--"Speaking generally, the acts which are called right do promote, or are supposed to promote general happiness, and the acts which are called wrong do diminish, or are supposed to diminish it. I say, therefore, that this is what the words 'right' and 'wrong' mean, just as the words 'up' and 'down' mean that which points from or towards the earth's centre of gravity, though they are used by millions who have not the least notion of the fact that such is their meaning, and though they were used for centuries and millenniums before any one was or even could be aware of it."[1] So, too, Bentham maintained that words like "ought," "right," and "wrong," have no meaning unless interpreted in accordance with the principle of utility;[2] and James Mill was of opinion that "the very morality" of the act lies, not in the sentiments raised in the breast of him who perceives or contemplates it, but in "the consequences of the act, good or evil, and their being {6} within the intention of the agent."[3] He adds that a rational assertor of the principle of utility approves of an action "because it is good," and calls it good "because it conduces to happiness."[4] This, however, is to invert the sequence of the facts, since, properly speaking, an act is called good because it is approved of, and is approved of by an utilitarian in so far as it conduces to happiness. [Footnote 1: Stephen, _Liberty_, _Equality_, _Fraternity_, p. 338.] [Footnote 2: Bentham, _Principles of Morals and Legislation_, p. 4.] [Footnote 3: James Mill, _Fragment on Mackintosh_, pp. 5, 376.] [Footnote 4: _Ibid._ p. 368.] Such confusion of terms cannot affect the real meaning of the moral concepts. It is true that he who holds that "actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness,"[5] may, by a merely intellectual process, pass judgment on the moral character of particular acts; but, if he is an utilitarian from conviction, his first principle, at least, has an emotional origin. The case is similar with many of the moral judgments ordinarily passed by men. They are applications of some accepted general rule: conformity or non-conformity to the rule decides the rightness or wrongness of the act judged of. But whether the rule be the result of a person's independent deductions, or be based upon authority, human or divine, the fact that his moral consciousness recognises it as valid implies that it has an emotional sanction in his own mind. [Footnote 5: Stuart Mill, _Utilitarianism_, p. 9 _sq._] Whilst the import of the predicate of a moral judgment may thus in every case be traced back to an emotion in him who pronounces the judgment, it is generally assumed to possess the character of universality or "objectivity" as well. The statement that an act is good or bad does not merely refer to an individual emotion; as will be shown subsequently, it always has reference to an emotion of a more public character. Very often it even implies some vague assumption that the act must be recognised as good or bad by everybody who possesses a sufficient knowledge of the case and of all attendant circumstances, and who has a "sufficiently developed" {7} moral consciousness. We are not willing to admit that our moral convictions are a mere matter of taste, and we are inclined to regard convictions differing from our own as errors. This characteristic of our moral judgments has been adduced as an argument against the emotionalist theory of moral origins, and has led to the belief that the moral concepts represent qualities which are discerned by reason. Cudworth, Clarke, Price, and Reid are names which recall to our mind a theory according to which the morality of actions is perceived by the intellect, just as are number, diversity, causation, proportion. "Morality is eternal and immutable," says Richard Price. "Right and wrong, it appears, denote what actions are. Now whatever any thing is, that it is, not by will, or degree, or power, but by nature and necessity. Whatever a triangle or circle is, that it is unchangeably and eternally. . . . The same is to be said of right and wrong, of moral good and evil, as far as they express real characters of actions. They must immutably and necessarily belong to those actions of which they are truly affirmed."[6] And as having a real existence outside the mind, they can only be discerned by the understanding. It is true that this discernment is accompanied with an emotion: "Some impressions of pleasure or pain, satisfaction or disgust, generally attend our perceptions of virtue and vice. But these are merely their effects and concomitants, and not the perceptions themselves, which ought no more to be confounded with them, than a particular truth (like that for which Pythagoras offered a hecatomb) ought to be confounded with the pleasure that may attend the discovery of it."[7] [Footnote 6: Price, _Review of the Principal Questions in Morals_, pp. 63, 74 _sq._] [Footnote 7: _Ibid._ p. 63.] According to another doctrine, the moral predicates, though not regarded as expressions of "theoretical" truth, nevertheless derive all their import from reason from "practical" or "moral" reason, as it is variously {8} called. Thus Professor Sidgwick holds that the fundamental notions represented by the word "ought" or "right," which moral judgments contain expressly or by implication, are essentially different from all notions representing facts of physical or psychical experience, and he refers such judgments to the "reason," understood as a faculty of cognition. By this he implies "that what ought to be is a possible object of knowledge, _i.e._, that what I judge ought to be, must, unless I am in error, be similarly judged by all rational beings who judge truly of the matter." The moral judgments contain moral _truths_, and "cannot legitimately be interpreted as judgments respecting the present or future existence of human feelings or any facts of the sensible world."[8] [Footnote 8: Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_, pp. 25, 33 _sq._] Yet our tendency to objectivise the moral judgments is no sufficient ground for referring them to the province of reason. If, in this respect, there is a difference between these judgments and others that are rooted in the subjective sphere of experience, it is, largely, a difference in degree rather than in kind. The aesthetic judgments, which indisputably have an emotional origin, also lay claim to a certain amount of "objectivity." By saying of a piece of music that it is beautiful, we do not merely mean that it gives ourselves aesthetic enjoyment, but we make a latent assumption that it must have a similar effect upon everybody who is sufficiently musical to appreciate it. This objectivity ascribed to judgments which have a merely subjective origin springs in the first place from the similarity of the mental constitution of men, and, generally speaking, the tendency to regard them as objective is greater in proportion as the impressions vary less in each particular case. If "there is no disputing of tastes," that is because taste is so extremely variable; and yet even in this instance we recognise a certain "objective" standard by speaking of a "bad" and a "good" taste. On the other hand, if the appearance of objectivity in the moral judgments is so illusive as to {9} make it seem necessary to refer them to reason, that is partly on account of the comparatively uniform nature of the moral consciousness. Society is the school in which men learn to distinguish between right and wrong. The headmaster is Custom, and the lessons are the same for all. The first moral judgments were pronounced by public opinion; public indignation and public approval are the prototypes of the moral emotions. As regards questions of morality, there was, in early society, practically no difference of opinion; hence a character of universality, or objectivity, was from the very beginning attached to all moral judgments. And when, with advancing civilisation, this unanimity was to some extent disturbed by individuals venturing to dissent from the opinions of the majority, the disagreement was largely due to facts which in no way affected the moral principle, but had reference only to its application. Most people follow a very simple method in judging of an act. Particular modes of conduct have their traditional labels, many of which are learnt with language itself; and the moral judgment commonly consists simply in labelling the act according to certain obvious characteristics which it presents in common with others belonging to the same group. But a conscientious and intelligent judge proceeds in a different manner. He carefully examines all the details connected with the act, the external and internal conditions under which it was performed, its consequences, its motive; and, since the moral estimate in a large measure depends upon the regard paid to these circumstances, his judgment may differ greatly from that of the man in the street, even though the moral standard which they apply be exactly the same. But to acquire a full insight into all the details which are apt to influence the moral value of an act is in many cases anything but easy, and this naturally increases the disagreement. There is thus in every advanced society a diversity of opinion regarding the moral value of certain modes of conduct which results from circumstances of a purely {10} intellectual character--from the knowledge or ignorance of positive facts,--and involves no discord in principle. Now it has been assumed by the advocates of various ethical theories that all the differences of moral ideas originate in this way, and that there is some ultimate standard which must be recognised as authoritative by everybody who understands it rightly. According to Bentham, the rectitude of utilitarianism has been contested only by those who have not known their own meaning:--"When a man attempts to combat the principle of utility . . . his arguments, if they prove anything, prove not that the principle is wrong, but that, according to the applications he supposes to be made of it, it is misapplied."[9] Mr. Spencer, to whom good conduct is that "which conduces to life in each and all," believes that he has the support of "the true moral consciousness," or "moral consciousness proper," which, whether in harmony or in conflict with the "pro-ethical" sentiment, is vaguely or distinctly recognised as the rightful ruler.[10] Samuel Clarke, the intuitionist, again, is of opinion that if a man endowed with reason denies the eternal and necessary moral differences of things, it is the very same "as if a man that has the use of his sight, should at the same time that he beholds the sun, deny that there is any such thing as light in the world; or as if a man that understands Geometry or Arithmetick, should deny the most obvious and known proportions of lines or numbers."[11] In short, all disagreement as to questions of morals is attributed to ignorance or misunderstanding. [Footnote 9: Bentham, _Principles of Morals and Legislation_, p. 4 _sq._] [Footnote 10: Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, i. 45, 337 _sq._] [Footnote 11: Clarke, _Discourse concerning the Unchangeable Obligations of Natural Religion_, p. 179.] The influence of intellectual considerations upon moral judgments is certainly immense. We shall find that the evolution of the moral consciousness to a large extent consists in its development from the unreflecting to the reflecting, from the unenlightened to the enlightened. All higher emotions are determined by cognitions, they arise {11} from "the presentation of determinate objective conditions";[12] and moral enlightenment implies a true and comprehensive presentation of those objective conditions by which the moral emotions, according to their very nature, are determined. Morality may thus in a much higher degree than, for instance, beauty be a subject of instruction and of profitable discussion, in which persuasion is carried by the representation of existing data. But although in this way many differences may be accorded, there are points in which unanimity cannot be reached even by the most accurate presentation of facts or the subtlest process of reasoning. [Footnote 12: Marshall, _Pain_, _Pleasure_, _and Aesthetics_, p. 83.] Whilst certain phenomena will almost of necessity arouse similar moral emotions in every mind which perceives them clearly, there are others with which the case is different. The emotional constitution of man does not present the same uniformity as the human intellect. Certain cognitions inspire fear in nearly every breast; but there are brave men and cowards in the world, independently of the accuracy with which they realise impending danger. Some cases of suffering can hardly fail to awaken compassion in the most pitiless heart; but the sympathetic dispositions of men vary greatly, both in regard to the beings with whose sufferings they are ready to sympathise, and with reference to the intensity of the emotion. The same holds good for the moral emotions. The existing diversity of opinion as to the rights of different classes of men and of the lower animals, which springs from emotional differences, may no doubt be modified by a clearer insight into certain facts, but no perfect agreement can be expected as long as the conditions under which the emotional dispositions are formed remain unchanged. Whilst an enlightened mind _must_ recognise the complete or relative irresponsibility of an animal, a child, or a madman, and _must_ be influenced in its moral judgment by the motives of an act--no intellectual enlightenment, no scrutiny of facts, can decide how far the interests of the {12} lower animals should be regarded when conflicting with those of men, or how far a person is bound, or allowed, to promote the welfare of his nation, or his own welfare, at the cost of that of other nations or other individuals. Professor Sidgwick's well-known moral axiom, "I ought not to prefer my own lesser good to the greater good of another,"[13] would, if explained to a Fuegian or a Hottentot, be regarded by him, not as self-evident, but as simply absurd; nor can it claim general acceptance even among ourselves. Who is that "Another" to whose greater good I ought not to prefer my own lesser good? A fellow-countryman, a savage, a criminal, a bird, a fish--all without distinction? It will, perhaps, be argued that on this, and on all other points of morals, there would be general agreement, if only the moral consciousness of men were sufficiently developed.[14] But then, when speaking of a "sufficiently developed" moral consciousness (beyond insistence upon a full insight into the governing facts of each case), we practically mean nothing else than agreement with our own moral convictions. The expression is faulty and deceptive, because, if intended to mean anything more, it presupposes an objectivity of the moral judgments which they do not possess, and at the same time seems to be proving what it presupposes. We may speak of an intellect as sufficiently developed to grasp a certain truth, because truth is objective; but it is not proved to be objective by the fact that it is recognised as true by a "sufficiently developed" intellect. The objectivity of truth lies in the recognition of facts as true by all who understand them _fully_, whilst the appeal to a _sufficient_ knowledge assumes their objectivity. To the verdict of a perfect intellect, that is, an intellect which knows everything existing, all would submit; but we can form no idea of a moral consciousness which could lay claim to a similar authority. If the believers in an all-good {13} God, who has revealed his will to mankind, maintain that they in this revelation possess a perfect moral standard, and that, consequently, what is in accordance with such a standard must be objectively right, it may be asked what they mean by an "all-good" God. And in their attempt to answer this question, they would inevitably have to assume the objectivity they wanted to prove. [Footnote 13: Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 383.] [Footnote 14: This, in fact, was the explanation given by Professor Sidgwick himself in a conversation which I had with him regarding his moral axioms.] The error we commit by attributing objectivity to moral estimates becomes particularly conspicuous when we consider that these estimates have not only a certain quality, but a certain quantity. There are different degrees of badness and goodness, a duty may be more or less stringent, a merit may be smaller or greater.[15] These quantitative differences are due to the emotional origin of all moral concepts. Emotions vary in intensity almost indefinitely, and the moral emotions form no exception to this rule. Indeed, it may be fairly doubted whether the same mode of conduct ever arouses exactly the same degree of indignation or approval in any two individuals. Many of these differences are of course too subtle to be manifested in the moral judgment; but very frequently the intensity of the emotion is indicated by special words, or by the way in which the judgment is pronounced. It should be noticed, however, that the quantity of the estimate expressed in a moral predicate is not identical with the intensity of the moral emotion which a certain mode of conduct arouses on a special occasion. We are liable to feel more indignant if an injury is committed before our eyes than if we read of it in a newspaper, and yet we admit that the degree of wrongness is in both cases the same. The quantity of moral estimates is determined by the intensity of the emotions which their objects tend to evoke under exactly similar external circumstances. [Footnote 15: It will be shown in a following chapter why there are no degrees of rightness. This concept implies accordance with the moral law. The adjective "right" means that duty is fulfilled.] {14} Besides the relative uniformity of moral opinions, there is another circumstance which tempts us to objectivise moral judgments, namely, the authority which, rightly or wrongly, is ascribed to moral rules. From our earliest childhood we are taught that certain acts _are_ right and that others _are_ wrong. Owing to their exceptional importance for human welfare, the facts of the moral consciousness are emphasised in a much higher degree than any other subjective facts. We are allowed to have our private opinions about the beauty of things, but we are not so readily allowed to have our private opinions about right and wrong. The moral rules which are prevalent in the society to which we belong are supported by appeals not only to human, but to divine, authority, and to call in question their validity is to rebel against religion as well as against public opinion. Thus the belief in a moral order of the world has taken hardly less firm hold of the human mind than the belief in a natural order of things. And the moral law has retained its authoritativeness even when the appeal to an external authority has been regarded as inadequate. It filled Kant with the same awe as the star-spangled firmament. According to Butler, conscience is "a faculty in kind and in nature supreme over all others, and which bears its own authority of being so."[16] Its supremacy is said to be "felt and tacitly acknowledged by the worst no less than by the best of men."[17] Adam Smith calls the moral faculties the "vicegerents of God within us," who "never fail to punish the violation of them by the torments of inward shame and self-condemnation; and, on the contrary, always reward obedience with tranquillity of mind, with contentment, and self-satisfaction."[18] Even Hutcheson, who raises the question why the moral sense should not vary in different men as the palate does, considers it {15} "to be naturally destined to command all the other powers."[19] [Footnote 16: Butler, 'Sermon II.--Upon Human Nature,' in _Analogy of Religion_, _&c._ p. 403.] [Footnote 17: Dugald Stewart, _Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers of Man_, i. 302.] [Footnote 18: Adam Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 235.] [Footnote 19: Hutcheson, _System of Moral Philosophy_, i. 61.] Authority is an ambiguous word. It may indicate knowledge of truth, and it may indicate a rightful power to command obedience. The authoritativeness attributed to the moral law has often reference to both kinds of authority. The moral lawgiver lays down his rules in order that they should be obeyed, and they are authoritative in so far as they have to be obeyed. But he is also believed to know what is right and wrong, and his commands are regarded as expressions of moral truths. As we have seen, however, this latter kind of authority involves a false assumption as to the nature of the moral predicates, and it cannot be justly inferred from the power to command. Again, if the notion of an external lawgiver be put aside, the moral law does not generally seem to possess supreme authority in either sense of the word. It does not command obedience in any exceptional degree; few laws are broken more frequently. Nor can the regard for it be called the mainspring of action; it is only one spring out of many, and variable like all others. In some instances it is the ruling power in a man's life, in others it is a voice calling in the desert; and the majority of people seem to be more afraid of the blame or ridicule of their fellowmen, or of the penalties with which the law threatens them, than of "the vicegerents of God" in their own hearts. That mankind prefer the possession of virtue to all other enjoyments, and look upon vice as worse than any other misery,[20] is unfortunately an imagination of some moralists who confound men as they are with men as they ought to be. [Footnote 20: _Idem_, _Inquiry into the Original of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue_, p. 248.] It is said that the authority of the moral law asserts itself every time the law is broken, that virtue bears in itself its own reward, and vice its own punishment. But, to be sure, conscience is a very unjust retributer. The more a person habituates himself to virtue the more he {16} sharpens its sting, the deeper he sinks in vice the more he blunts it. Whilst the best men have the most sensitive consciences, the worst have hardly any conscience at all. It is argued that the habitual sinner has rid himself of remorse at a great cost;[21] but it may be fairly doubted whether the loss is an adequate penalty for his wickedness. We are reminded that men are rewarded for good and punished for bad acts by the moral feelings of their neighbours. But public opinion and law judge of detected acts only. Their judgment is seldom based upon an exhaustive examination of the case. They often apply a standard which is itself open to criticism. And the feelings with which men regard their fellow-creatures, and which are some of the main sources of human happiness and suffering, have often very little to do with morality. A person is respected or praised, blamed or despised, on other grounds than his character. Nay, the admiration which men feel for genius, courage, pluck, strength, or accidental success, is often superior in intensity to the admiration they feel for virtue. [Footnote 21: Ziegler, _Social Ethics_, p. 103.] In spite of all this, however, the supreme authority assigned to the moral law is not altogether an illusion. It really exists in the minds of the best, and is nominally acknowledged by the many. By this I do not refer to the universal admission that the moral law, whether obeyed or not, ought under all circumstances to be obeyed; for this is the same as to say that what ought to be ought to be. But it is recognised, in theory at least, that morality, either alone or in connection with religion, possesses a higher value than anything else; that rightness and goodness are preferable to all other kinds of mental superiority, as well as of physical excellence. If this theory is not more commonly acted upon, that is due to its being, in most people, much less the outcome of their own feelings than of instruction from the outside. It is ultimately traceable to some great teacher whose own mind was ruled by the ideal of moral perfection, and whose {17} words became sacred on account of his supreme wisdom, like Confucius or Buddha,[22] or on religious grounds, like Jesus. The authority of the moral law is thus only an expression of a strongly developed, overruling moral consciousness. It can hardly, as Mr. Sidgwick maintains, be said to "depend upon" the conception of the objectivity of duty.[23] On the contrary, it must be regarded as a cause of this conception--not only, as has already been pointed out, where it is traceable to some external authority, but where it results from the strength of the individual's own moral emotions. As clearness and distinctness of the conception of an object easily produces the belief in its truth, so the intensity of a moral emotion makes him who feels it disposed to objectivise the moral estimate to which it gives rise, in other words, to assign to it universal validity. The enthusiast is more likely than anybody else to regard his judgments as true, and so is the moral enthusiast with reference to his moral judgments. The intensity of his emotions makes him the victim of an illusion. [Footnote 22: "Besides the ideal king, the personification of Power and Justice, another ideal has played an important part in the formation of early Buddhist ideas regarding their Master. . . . It was the ideal of a perfectly Wise Man, the personification of Wisdom, the Buddha" (Rhys Davids, _Hibbert Lectures on Some Points in the History of Buddhism_, p. 141).] [Footnote 23: Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 104.] The presumed objectivity of moral judgments thus being a chimera, there can be no moral truth in the sense in which this term is generally understood. The ultimate reason for this is, that the moral concepts are based upon emotions, and that the contents of an emotion fall entirely outside the category of truth. But it may be true or not that we have a certain emotion, it may be true or not that a given mode of conduct has a tendency to evoke in us moral indignation or moral approval. Hence a moral judgment is true or false according as its subject has or has not that tendency which the predicate attributes to it. If I say that it is wrong to resist evil, and yet resistance to evil has no tendency whatever to call {18} forth in me an emotion of moral disapproval, then my judgment is false. If there are no general moral truths, the object of scientific ethics cannot be to fix rules for human conduct, the aim of all science being the discovery of some truth. It has been said by Bentham and others that moral principles cannot be proved because they are first principles which are used to prove everything else.[24] But the real reason for their being inaccessible to demonstration is that, owing to their very nature, they can never be true. If the word "Ethics," then, is to be used as the name for a science, the object of that science can only be to study the moral consciousness as a fact.[25] [Footnote 24: Bentham, _Principles of Morals and Legislation_, p. 4. _Cf._ Höffding, _Etik_, p. 43.] [Footnote 25: _Cf._ Simmel, _Einleitung in die Moralwissenschaft_, i. p. iii. _sq._; Westermarck, 'Normative und psychologische Ethik,' in _Dritter Internationaler Congress für Psychologie in München_, p. 428 _sq._] Ethical subjectivism is commonly held to be a dangerous doctrine, destructive to morality, opening the door to all sorts of libertinism. If that which appears to each man as right or good, stands for that which is right or good; if he is allowed to make his own law, or to make no law at all; then, it is said, everybody has the natural right to follow his caprice and inclinations, and to hinder him from doing so is an infringement on his rights, a constraint with which no one is bound to comply provided that he has the power to evade it. This inference was long ago drawn from the teaching of the Sophists,[26] and it will no doubt be still repeated as an argument against any theorist who dares to assert that nothing can be said to be truly right or wrong. [Footnote 26: Zeller, _History of Greek Philosophy_, ii. 475.] To this argument may, first, be objected that a scientific theory is not invalidated by the mere fact that it is likely to cause mischief. The unfortunate circumstance that there do exist dangerous things in the world, proves that something may be dangerous and yet true. Another question is whether any scientific truth really is mischievous {19} on the whole, although it may cause much discomfort to certain people. I venture to believe that this, at any rate, is not the case with that form of ethical subjectivism which I am here advocating. The charge brought against the Sophists does not at all apply to it. I do not even subscribe to that beautiful modern sophism which admits every man's conscience to be an infallible guide. If we had to recognise, or rather if we did recognise, as right everything which is held to be right by anybody, savage or Christian, criminal or saint, morality would really suffer a serious loss. But we do not, and we cannot, do so. My moral judgments are my own judgments; they spring from my own moral consciousness; they judge of the conduct of other men not from their point of view but from mine, not with primary reference to their opinions about right and wrong, but with reference to my own. Most of us indeed admit that, when judging of an act, we also ought to take into consideration the moral conviction of the agent, and the agreement or disagreement between his doing and his idea of what he ought to do. But although we hold it to be wrong of a person to act against his conscience, we may at the same time blame him for having such a conscience as he has. Ethical subjectivism covers all such cases. It certainly does not allow everybody to follow his own inclinations; nor does it lend sanction to arbitrariness and caprice. Our moral consciousness belongs to our mental constitution, which we cannot change as we please. We approve and we disapprove because we cannot do otherwise. Can we help feeling pain when the fire burns us? Can we help sympathising with our friends? Are these phenomena less necessary or less powerful in their consequences, because they fall within the subjective sphere of experience? So, too, why should the moral law command less obedience because it forms part of our own nature? Far from being a danger, ethical subjectivism seems to me more likely to be an acquisition for moral practice. {20} Could it be brought home to people that there is no absolute standard in morality, they would perhaps be somewhat more tolerant in their judgments, and more apt to listen to the voice of reason. If the right has an objective existence, the moral consciousness has certainly been playing at blindman's buff ever since it was born, and will continue to do so until the extinction of the human race. But who does admit this? The popular mind is always inclined to believe that it possesses the knowledge of what _is_ right and wrong, and to regard public opinion as the reliable guide of conduct. We have, indeed, no reason to regret that there are men who rebel against the established rules of morality; it is more deplorable that the rebels are so few, and that, consequently, the old rules change so slowly. Far above the vulgar idea that the right is a settled something to which everybody has to adjust his opinions, rises the conviction that it has its existence in each individual mind, capable of any expansion, proclaiming its own right to exist, and, if need be, venturing to make a stand against the whole world. Such a conviction makes for progress. CHAPTER II THE NATURE OF THE MORAL EMOTIONS IN the preceding chapter it was asserted, in general terms, that the moral concepts are based on emotions, and the leading arguments to the contrary were met. We shall now proceed to examine the nature of the moral emotions. These emotions are of two kinds: disapproval, or indignation, and approval. They have in common characteristics which make them moral emotions, in distinction from others of a non-moral character, but at the same time both of them belong to a wider class of emotions, which I call retributive emotions. Again, they differ from each other in points which make each of them allied to certain non-moral retributive emotions, disapproval to anger and revenge, and approval to that kind of retributive kindly emotion which in its most developed form is gratitude. They may thus, on the one hand, be regarded as two distinct divisions of the moral emotions, whilst, on the other hand, disapproval, like anger and revenge, forms a sub-species of resentment, and approval, like gratitude, forms a sub-species of retributive kindly emotion. The following diagram will help to elucidate the matter:-- Retributive Emotions. | ---------------------------------------- | | Resentment. Retributive Kindly Emotion. | | ----------------- --------------------------- | | | | Anger and Moral Moral Non-moral retributive Revenge. disapproval. approval Kindly Emotion, | | including Gratitude. --------------- | Moral Emotions. {22} That moral disapproval is a kind of resentment and akin to anger and revenge, and that moral approval is a kind of retributive kindly emotion and akin to gratitude, are, of course, statements which call for proof. An analysis of all these emotions, and a detailed study of the causes which evoke them, will, I hope, bear out the correctness of my classification. In this connection only the analysis can be attempted. The study of causes will be involved in the treatment of the subjects of moral judgments. Resentment may be described as an aggressive attitude of mind towards a cause of pain. Anger is sudden resentment, in which the hostile reaction against the cause of pain is unrestrained by deliberation. Revenge, on the other hand, is a more deliberate form of non-moral resentment, in which the hostile reaction is more or less restrained by reason and calculation.[1] It is impossible, however, to draw any distinct limit between these two types of resentment, as also to discern where an actual desire to inflict pain comes in. In its primitive form, anger, even when directed against a living being, contains a vehement impulse to remove the cause of pain without any real desire to produce suffering.[2] Anger is strikingly shown by many fish, and notoriously by sticklebacks when their territory is invaded by other sticklebacks. In such circumstances of provocation the whole animal changes colour, and, darting at the trespasser, shows rage and fury in every movement;[3] but we can hardly believe that any idea of inflicting pain is present to its mind. As we proceed still lower down the scale of animal life we find the conative element itself gradually dwindle away until nothing is left but mere reflex action. [Footnote 1: _Cf._ Ribot, _Psychology of the Emotions_, p. 220 _sqq._] [Footnote 2: There are some good remarks on this in Mr. Hiram Stanley's _Studies in the Evolutionary Psychology of Feeling_, p. 138 _sq._] [Footnote 3: Romanes, _Animal Intelligence_, p. 246 _sqq._] That the fury of an injured animal turns against the real or assumed cause of its injury is a matter of notoriety, and everybody knows that the same is the case with the {23} anger of a child. No doubt, as Professor Sully observes, "hitting out right and left, throwing things down on the floor and breaking them, howling, wild agitated movements of the arms and whole body, these are the outward vents which the gust of childish fury is apt to take."[4] But, on the other hand, we know well enough that Darwin's little boy, who became a great adept at throwing books and sticks at any one who offended him,[5] was in this respect no exceptional child. Towards the age of one year, according to M. Perez, children "will beat people, animals, and inanimate objects if they are angry with them; they will throw their toys, their food, their plate, anything, in short, that is at hand, at the people who have displeased them."[6] That a similar discrimination characterises the resentment of a savage is a fact upon which it is necessary to dwell at some length for the reason that it has been disputed, and because there are some seeming anomalies which require an explanation. [Footnote 4: Sully, _Studies in Childhood_, p. 232 _sq._] [Footnote 5: Darwin, 'Biographical Sketch of an Infant,' in _Mind_, ii. 288.] [Footnote 6: Perez, _first Three Years of Childhood_, p. 66 _sq._] In a comprehensive work,[7] Dr. Steinmetz has made the feeling of revenge the object of a detailed investigation, which cannot be left unnoticed. The ultimate conclusions at which he has arrived are these: Revenge is essentially rooted in the feeling of power and superiority. It arises consequently upon the experience of injury, and its aim is to enhance the "self-feeling" which has been lowered or degraded by the injury suffered. It answers this purpose best if it is directed against the aggressor himself, but it is not essential to it that it should take any determinate direction, for, _per se_, and originally, it is "undirected."[8] [Footnote 7: _Ethnologische Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_.] [Footnote 8: Strictly speaking, this theory is not new. Dr. Paul Rée, in his book _Die Entstehung des Gewissens_, has pronounced revenge to be a reaction against the feeling of inferiority which the aggressor impresses upon his victim. The injured man, he says (_ibid._ p. 40) is naturally reluctant to feel himself inferior to another man, and consequently strives, by avenging the aggression, to show himself equal or even superior to the aggressor. A similar view was previously expressed by Schopenhauer (_Parerga und Paralipomena_, ii. 475 _sq._). But Dr. Steinmetz has elaborated his theory with an independence and fulness which make any question of priority quite insignificant.] {24} We are told, in fact, that the first stage through which revenge passed within the human race was characterised by a total, or almost total, want of discrimination. The aim of the offended man was merely to raise his injured "self-feeling" by inflicting pain upon somebody else, and his savage desire was satisfied whether the man on whom he wreaked his wrath was guilty or innocent.[9] No doubt, there were from the outset instances in which the offender himself was purposely made the victim, especially if he was a fellow-tribesman; but it was not really due to the feeling of revenge if the suffering was inflicted upon him, in preference to others. Even primitive man must have found out that vengeance directed against the actual culprit, besides being a strong deterrent to others, was a capital means of making a dangerous person harmless. However, Dr. Steinmetz adds, these advantages should not be overestimated, as even indiscriminate revenge has a deterring influence on the malefactor.[10] In early times, then, vengeance, according to Dr. Steinmetz, was in the main "undirected." [Footnote 9: Steinmetz, _op. cit._ i. 355, 356, 359, 561.] [Footnote 10: _Ibid._ i. 362.] At the next stage it becomes, he says, somewhat less indiscriminate. A proper victim is sought for even in cases of what we should call natural death, which the savage generally attributes to the ill-will of some foe skilled in sorcery;[11] though indeed Dr. Steinmetz doubts whether in such cases the unfortunate sufferer is really supposed to have committed the deed imputed to him.[12] At all events, a need is felt of choosing somebody for a victim, and "undirected" vengeance gradually gives way to "directed" vengeance. A rude specimen of this is the blood-feud, in which the individual culprit is left out of consideration, but war is carried on against the group of which he is a member, either his family or his tribe. And {25} from this system of joint responsibility we finally come, by slow degrees, says Dr. Steinmetz, to the modern conception, according to which punishment should be inflicted upon the criminal and nobody else.[13] Dr. Steinmetz believes that the _vis agens_ in this long process of evolution lies in the intellectual development of the human race: man found out more and more distinctly that the best means of restraining wrongs was to punish a certain person, namely, the wrong-doer.[14] On this utilitarian calculation our author lays much stress in the latter part of his investigation; whereas in another place he observes that a revenge which is directed against the offender is particularly apt to remove the feeling of inferiority, by effectually humiliating the hitherto triumphant foe.[15] [Footnote 11: _Ibid._ i. 356 _sq._] [Footnote 12: _Ibid._ i. 359 _sq._] [Footnote 13: Steinmetz, _op. cit._ i. 361.] [Footnote 14: _Ibid._ i. 358, 359, 361 _sq._] [Footnote 15: _Ibid._ i. 111.] In this historical account the main points of interest are the initial stage of "undirected" vengeance, and the way in which such vengeance gradually became discriminate. If, in primitive times, a man did not care in the least on whom he retaliated an injury, then of course the direction of his vengeance could not be essential to the revenge itself, but would be merely a later appendix to it. The question is, what evidence can Dr. Steinmetz adduce to support his theory? Of primitive man we have no direct experience; no savage people now existing is a faithful representative of him, either physically or mentally. Yet however greatly the human race has changed, primitive man is not altogether dead. Traits of his character still linger in his descendants; and of primitive revenge, we are told, there are sufficient survivals left.[16] [Footnote 16: _Ibid._ i. 364.] Under the heading "Perfectly Undirected Revenge," Dr. Steinmetz sets out several alleged cases of such so-called survivals[17] 1. An Indian of the Omaha tribe, who was kicked out of a trading establishment which he had been forbidden to enter, declared in a rage that he would revenge himself for an injury so gross, and, "seeking some object to destroy, he encountered a {26} sow and pigs, and appeased his rage by putting them all to death." 2. The people of that same tribe believe that if a man who has been struck by lightning is not buried in the proper way, and in the place where he has been killed, his spirit will not rest in peace, but will walk about till another person is slain by lightning and laid beside him. 3. At the burial of a Loucheux Indian, the relatives sometimes will cut and lacerate their bodies, or, as sometimes happens, will, "in a fit of revenge against fate," stab some poor, friendless person who may be sojourning among them. 4. The Navahoes, when jealous of their wives, are apt to wreak their spleen and ill-will upon the first person whom they chance to meet. 5. The Great Eskimo, as it is reported, once after a severe epidemic swore to kill all white people who might venture into their country. 6. The Australian father, whose little child happens to hurt itself, attacks his innocent neighbours, believing that he thus distributes the pain among them and consequently lessens the suffering of the child. 7. The Brazilian Tupis ate the vermin which molested them, for the sake of revenge; and if one of them struck his foot against a stone, he raged over it and bit it, whilst, if he were wounded with an arrow, he plucked it out and gnawed the shaft. 8. The Dacotahs avenge theft by stealing the property of the thief or of somebody else. 9. Among the Tshatrali (Pamir), if a man is robbed of his meat by a neighbour's dog, he will, in a fit of rage, not only kill the offending dog, but will, in addition, kick his own. 10. In New Guinea the bearers of evil tidings sometimes get knocked on the head during the first outburst of indignation evoked by their news. 11. Some natives of Motu, who had rescued two shipwrecked crews and safely brought them to their home in Port Moresby, were attacked there by the very friends of those they had saved, the reason for this being that the Port Moresby people were angry at the loss of the canoes, and could not bear that the Motuans were happy while they themselves were in trouble. 12. Another story from New Guinea tells us of a man who killed some innocent persons, because he had been disappointed in his plans and deprived of valuable property. 13. Among the Maoris it sometimes happened that the friends of a murdered man killed the first man who came in their way, whether enemy or friend. 14. Among the same people, chiefs who had suffered some loss often used to rob their subjects of property in order to make good the damage. 15. If the son of a Maori is hurt, his maternal relatives, to whose tribe he is considered to belong, come to pillage his father's house or village. 16. If {27} a tree falls on a Kuki his fellows chop it up, and if one of that tribe kills himself by falling from a tree the tree from which he fell is promptly cut down. 17. In some parts of Daghestan, when the cause of a death is unknown, the relatives of the deceased declare some person chosen at random to have murdered him, and retaliate his death upon that person. [Footnote 17: _Ibid._ i. 318 _sqq._] I have been obliged to enumerate all these cases for the reason that a theory cannot be satisfactorily refuted unless on its own ground. I may confess at once that I scarcely ever saw an hypothesis vindicated by the aid of more futile evidence. The cases 7 and 16 illustrate just the reverse of "undirected" revenge, and, when we take into consideration the animistic beliefs of savages, present little to astonish us. In case 17 the guilt is certainly imputed to somebody at random, but only when the culprit is unknown. Cases 1, 4, 10 and 12 and perhaps also 11, imply that revenge is taken upon an innocent party in a fit of passion; in cases 1 and 12 the offender himself cannot be got at, in case 10 the man who is knocked on the head appears for the moment as the immediate cause of the grief or indignation evoked, while case 11 exhibits envy combined with extreme ingratitude. In case 9 the anger is chiefly directed against the "guilty" dog, and against the "innocent" one evidently by an association of ideas. Cases 8 and 14 illustrate indemnification for loss of property, and in case 8 the thief himself is specifically mentioned first. In case 15 the revenging attack is made upon the property of those people among whom the child lives, and who may be considered responsible for the loss its maternal clan sustains by the injury. Case 6 merely shows the attempt of a superstitious father to lessen the suffering of his child. As regards case 5, Petitot, who has recorded it, says expressly that the white people were supposed to have caused the epidemic by displeasing the god Tornrark.[18] Case 2 points to a superstitious belief which is interesting enough in itself, but which, so far as I can see, is without any bearing whatever on the point we are discussing. Case 3 looks like a death-offering. The stabbing of an innocent person is mentioned in connection with, or rather as an alternative to, the self-laceration of the mourners, which last has probably a sacrificial character. Moreover, there is in this case no question of a culprit. In case 13, finally, the idea of sacrifice is very conspicuous. Dr. Steinmetz has borrowed his statement from Waitz, whose account is incomplete. Dieffenbach, the original authority, says that the custom in question was called by the Maori _taua tapu_, _i.e._, sacred fight, {28} or _taua toto_, _i.e._, fight for blood. He describes it as follows:--"If blood has been shed, a party sally forth and kill the first person they fall in with, whether an enemy or belonging to their own tribe; even a brother is sacrificed. If they do not fall in with anybody, the _tohunga_ (that is, the priest) pulls up some grass, throws it into a river, and repeats some incantation. After this ceremony, the killing of a bird, or any living thing that comes in their way, is regarded as sufficient, provided that blood is actually shed. All who participate in such an excursion are _tapu_, and are not allowed either to smoke or to eat anything but indigenous food."[19] It seems probable that this ceremony was undertaken in order to appease the enraged spirit of the dead,[20] and at the same time it may have been intended to refresh the spirit with blood.[21] The question, however, is, Why was not his death avenged upon the actual culprit? To this Dr. Steinmetz would answer that the deceased was thought to be indiscriminate in his craving for vengeance.[22] But so far as the resentment of the dead is concerned, the "sacred fight" of the Maoris only seems to illustrate the impulsive character of anger. From Dieffenbach's description of it, it is obvious that the friends of the slain man considered it to be a matter of paramount importance that blood should be shed immediately. If no human being came in their way, an animal was killed, but then an incantation was uttered beforehand. I presume that the reason for this was the terror which the supposed wrath of the dead man's spirit struck into the living, combined perhaps with the idea that it was in immediate need of fresh blood. The Maoris considered all spirits of the dead to be maliciously inclined towards them,[23] and the ghost of a person who had died a violent death was certainly looked upon as especially dangerous. The craving for instantaneous shedding of blood is even more conspicuous in another case which may be appropriately mentioned in this connection. The Aetas of the Philippine Islands, we are told, "do not always {29} wait for the death of the afflicted before they bury him. Immediately after the body has been deposited in the grave, it becomes necessary, according to their usages, that his death should be avenged. The hunters of the tribe go out with their lances and arrows to kill the first living creature they meet with, whether a man, a stag, a wild hog, or a buffalo."[24] Dr. Steinmetz himself quotes some other instances from the same group of islands, in which, when a man dies, his nearest kinsmen go out to requite his death by the death of the first man who comes in their way.[25] It is worth noticing that the Philippine Islanders have the very worst opinion of their ghosts, and believe that these are particularly bloodthirsty soon after death.[26] [Footnote 18: Petitot, _Les Grands Esqimaux_, p. 207 _sq._] [Footnote 19: Dieffenbach, _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 127.] [Footnote 20: _Cf._ _ibid._ ii. 129.] [Footnote 21: The latter object is suggested by some funeral ceremonies which will be noticed in a following chapter. Among the Dyaks, "a father who lost his child would go out and kill the first man he met, as a funeral ceremony," believing that he thus provided the deceased with a slave to accompany him to the habitation of souls (Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, i. 459). Among the Garos, it was formerly the practice, "whenever the death of a great man amongst them occurred, to send out a party of assassins to murder and bring back the head of the first Bengali they met. The victims so immolated would, it was supposed, be acceptable to their gods" (Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 68).] [Footnote 22: _Cf._ Steinmetz, _op. cit._ i. 343.] [Footnote 23: Taylor, _Te Ika a Maui_, p. 221.] [Footnote 24: Earl, _Papuans_, p. 132.] [Footnote 25: Steinmetz, _op. cit._ i. 335 _sq._] [Footnote 26: Blumentritt, 'Der Ahnencultus der Malaien des Philippinen-Archipels' in _Mittheilungen der Geogr. Gesellsch. in Wien_, xxv. 166 _sqq._ De Mas, _Informe sobre el estado de las Islas filipinas en 1842_, _Orijen, &c._ p. 15.] Dr. Steinmetz also refers to some statements according to which, among certain Australian tribes, the relatives of a person who dies avenge his death by killing an innocent man.[27] But in these cases the avenged death, though "natural" according to our terminology, is, in the belief of the savages, caused by sorcery, and the revenge is not so indiscriminate as Dr. Steinmetz seems to assume. Among the Wellington tribe, as appears from a statement which he quotes himself, it is the sorcerer's life that must be taken for satisfaction.[28] In New South Wales, after the dead man has been interrogated as to the cause of his death, his kinsmen are resolute in taking vengeance, if they "imagine that they have got sure indications of the perpetrator of the wrong."[29] Among the Central Australian natives, "not infrequently the dying man will whisper in the ear of a _Railtchawa_, or medicine man, the name of the man whose magic is killing him," and if this be not done, "there is no difficulty, by some other method, of fixing sooner or later on the guilty party"; but only after the culprit has been revealed by the medicine man is it decided by a council of the old men whether an avenging party is to be arranged or not.[30] Among the aborigines of West Australia, the survivors are "pretty busy in seeking out" the sorcerer who is supposed to have caused the death of their friend.[31] [Footnote 27: Steinmetz, _op. cit._ i. 337 _sq._] [Footnote 28: Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition Vol. VI.--Ethnography and Philology_, p. 115; quoted by Steinmetz, _op. cit._ i. 337.] [Footnote 29: Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 86.] [Footnote 30: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 476 _sq._] [Footnote 31: Calvert, _Aborigines of Western Australia_, p. 20 _sq._] {30} To sum up: all the facts which Dr. Steinmetz has adduced as evidence for his hypothesis of an original stage of "undirected" revenge only show that, under certain circumstances, either in a fit of passion, or when the actual offender is unknown or out of reach, revenge may be taken on an innocent being, wholly unconnected with the inflicter of the injury which it is sought to revenge. There is such an intimate connection between the experience of injury and the hostile reaction by which the injured individual gives vent to his passion, that the reaction does not fail to appear even when it misses its aim. Anger, as Seneca said, "does not rage merely against its object, but against every obstacle which it encounters on its way."[32] Many infants, when angry and powerless to hurt others, "strike their heads against doors, posts, walls of houses, and sometimes on the floor."[33] Well known are the "amucks" of the Malays, in which "the desperado assails indiscriminately friend and foe," and, with dishevelled hair and frantic look, murders or wounds all whom he meets without distinction.[34] But all this is not revenge; it is sudden anger or blind rage. Nor is it revenge in the true sense of the word if a person who has been humiliated by his superior retaliates on those under him. It is only the outburst of a wounded "self-feeling," which, when not directed against its proper object, can afford no adequate consolation to a revengeful man. [Footnote 32: Seneca, _De ira_, iii. 1.] [Footnote 33: Stanley Hall, 'A Study of Anger,' in _American Jour. of Psychology_, x. 554.] [Footnote 34: Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, i. 67. _Cf._ Ellis, 'The Amok of the Malays,' in _Jour. of Mental Science_, xxxix. 325 _sqq._ In the Andaman Islands, it is not uncommon for a man "to vent his ill-temper, or show his resentment at any act, by destroying his own property as well as that of his neighbours" (Man, 'Aboriginal Inhabitants of the Andaman Islands,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 111). Among the Kar Nicobarese, when a quarrel takes place, in serious cases, a man will probably burn his own house down (Kloss, _In the Andamans and Nicobars_, p. 310). But in these instances it is not certain whether the offended party destroys his own property in blind rage, or with some definite object in view.] In the institution of the blood-feud some sort of collective responsibility is usually involved.[35] If the {31} offender is of another family than his victim, some of his relatives may have to expiate his deed.[36] If he belongs to another clan, the whole clan may be held responsible for it.[37] And if he is a member of another tribe, the vengeance may be wreaked upon his fellow-tribesmen indiscriminately.[38] [Footnote 35: _Cf._ Post, _Anfänge des Staats- und Rechtsleben_, p. 180; Rée, _op. cit._ p. 49 _sq._; Steinmetz, _op. cit._ i. ch. vi.] [Footnote 36: Besides the authorities quoted _infra_, see Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse von eingeborenen Völkern in Afrika und Ozeanien_, (Bakwiri); _ibid._ p. 49 (Banaka and Bapuku); Rautanen, _ibid._ p. 341 (Ondonga); Walter, _ibid._ p. 390 (natives of Nossi-Bé and Mayotte, near Madagascar); von Langsdorf, _Voyages and Travels_, i. 132 (Nukahivans); Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 473 (Timorese); Foreman, _Philippine Islands_, p. 213 (Igorrotes of Luzon); Kovalewsky, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxv. 113 (people of Daghestan); _Idem_, _Coutume contemporaine et loi ancienne_, p. 248 _sq._ (Ossetes); Merzbacher, _Aus den Hochregionen des Kaukasus_, ii. 51 (Khevsurs).] [Footnote 37: Bridges, in _A Voice for South America_, xiii. 207 (Fuegians). Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 369. Ridley, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ ii. 268 (Kamilaroi in Australia). Godwin-Austen, _ibid._ ii. 394 (Garo Hill tribes).] [Footnote 38: von Martins, _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 127 _sqq._ (Brazilian Indians). Crawfurd, _op. cit._ iii. 124 (natives of Celebes). Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vgl. Rechtswiss._ vii. 383 (Goajiros of Columbia). _Ibid._ vii. 376 (Papuans of New Guinea). Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 70. Scaramucci and Giglioli, 'Notizie sui Danakil,' in _Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia_, xiv. 39. Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 23 (Bakwiri). _Ibid._ p. 49 (Banaka and Bapuku).] "Among the Fuegians," says Mr. Bridges, "etiquette and custom require that all the relatives of a murdered person should . . . visit their displeasure upon every connection of the manslayers, each personally." The avengers of blood would by no means be satisfied with a party of natives if they should actually deliver up into their hands a manslayer, or kill him themselves, "but would yet exact from all the murderer's friends tribute or infliction of injuries with sticks or stones."[39] Among the Indians of British Columbia and Vancouver Island, "grudges are handed down from father to son for generations, and friendly relations are never free from the risk of being interrupted."[40] Among the Greenlanders, the revenge for a murder generally "costs the executioner himself, his children, cousins, or other relatives their lives; or if these are inaccessible, some other acquaintance in the neighbourhood."[41] Among the Maoris, blood-revenge might be taken on any relative of the homicide, "no matter how distant."[42] In Tana, {32} revenge "is often sought in the death of the brother, or some other near relative of the culprit."[43] Among the Kabyles, "la vengeance peut porter sur chacun des membres de la famille du meurtrier, quel qu'il soit."[44] The Bedouins, according to Burckhardt, "claim the blood not only from the actual homicide, but from all his relations; and it is these claims that constitute the right of _thár_, or the blood-revenge."[45] Among the people of Ibrim, in Nubia, on the other hand, the same traveller observes, "it is not considered as sufficient to retaliate upon any person within the fifth degree of consanguinity, as among the Bedouins of Arabia; only the brother, son, or first cousin can supply the place of the murderer."[46] Traces of collective responsibility in connection with blood-revenge are found among the Hebrews.[47] It has prevailed, or still prevails, among the Japanese[48] and Coreans,[49] the Persians[50] and Hindus,[51] the ancient Greeks[52] and Teutons.[53] It was a rule among the Welsh[54] and the Scotch in former days,[55] and is so still in Corsica,[56] Albania,[57] and among some of the Southern Slavs.[58] In Montenegro, if a homicide who cannot be caught himself has no relatives, revenge is sometimes taken on some inhabitant of the village or district to which he belongs, or even on a person who only is of the same religion and nationality as the murderer.[59] In Albania, under similar circumstances, the victim may be a person who has had nothing else to do with the offender than that he has perhaps once been speaking to him.[60] [Footnote 39: Bridges, in _South American Missionary Magazine_, xiii. 151 _sqq._] [Footnote 40: Macfie, _Vancouver Island and British Columbia_, p. 470.] [Footnote 41: Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 178.] [Footnote 42: Shortland, _Traditions and Superstitions of the New Zealanders_, p. 213 _sq._ _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 218 _sq._] [Footnote 43: Turner, _Samoa_, p. 317.] [Footnote 44: Hanoteau and Letourneux, _La Kabylie_, iii. 61.] [Footnote 45: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 85. See, also, Layard, _Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon_, p. 306; Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, i. 133.] [Footnote 46: Burckhardt, _Travels in Nubia_, p. 128.] [Footnote 47: _2 Samuel_, xiv. 7. _Cf._ _ibid._ xxi.] [Footnote 48: Dautremer, 'The Vendetta or Legal Revenge in Japan,' in _Trans. Asiatic Soc. Japan_, xiii. 84.] [Footnote 49: Griffis, _Corea_, p. 227.] [Footnote 50: Spiegel, _Erânische Alterthumskunde_, iii. 687. Polak, _Persien_, ii. 96.] [Footnote 51: Dubois, _Description of the Character, Manners, and Customs of the People of India_, p. 195.] [Footnote 52: Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Gentium_, p. 424.] [Footnote 53: _Gotlands-Lagen_, 13.] [Footnote 54: Walter, _Das alte Wales_, p. 138.] [Footnote 55: Mackintosh, _History of Civilisation in Scotland_, ii. 279.] [Footnote 56: Gregorovius, _Wanderings in Corsica_, i. 179.] [Footnote 57: Gop[vc]evi['c], _**Oberalbanien und seine Liga_, p. 324 _sqq._] [Footnote 58: Miklosich, 'Die Blutrache bei den Slaven,' in _Denkschriften der kaiserl. Akademie d. Wissensch. Philos.-histor. Classe_, Vienna, xxxvi. 131, 146 _sq._ Krauss, _Sitte und Brauch der Südslaven_, p. 39.] [Footnote 59: Lago, _Memorie sulla Dalmazia_, ii. 90.] [Footnote 60: Gop[vc]evi['c], _op. cit._ p. 325.] There is no difficulty in explaining these facts. The following statement made by Mr. Romilly with reference {33} to the Solomon Islanders has, undoubtedly, a much wider application:--"In the cases which call for punishment, the difficulties in the way of capturing the actual culprits are greater than any one, who has not been engaged in this disagreeable work, can imagine."[61] Though it may happen that a manslayer is abandoned by his own people,[62] the system of blood-revenge more often seems to imply, not only that all the members of a group are engaged, more or less effectually, in the act of revenge, but that they mutually protect each other against the avengers. A homicide frequently provokes a war,[63] in which family stands against family, clan against clan, or tribe against tribe. In such cases the whole group take upon themselves the deed of the perpetrator, and any of his fellows, because standing up for him, becomes a proper object of revenge. The guilt extends itself, as it were, in the eyes of the offended party. So, also, any person who lives on friendly terms with the offender, or is supposed to sympathise with him, is liable to arouse a feeling of resentment, and may consequently, in extreme cases, have to expiate his crime. Moreover, because of the close relationship which exists between the members of the sam__e group, the actual culprit will be mortified by any successful attack that the avengers make on his people, and, if he be dead, its painful and humiliating effects may still be supposed to reach his spirit. "When the offender himself is beyond the reach of direct attack," says Mr. Wilkins, "it is not beneath a Bengali's view to try to wound him through his children or other members of his family."[64] Among the South Slavonians, in a similar case, the avengers of blood first attempt to kill the father, brother, {34} or grown-up son of the murderer, "so as to inflict upon him a very heavy and painful loss"; and only when this has been tried in vain, are more distant relatives attacked.[65] The Bedouins of the Euphrates even prefer killing the chief man among the murderer's relations within the second degree to taking his own life, on the principle, "You have killed my cousin, I will kill yours."[66] And the Californian Nishinam "consider that the keenest and most bitter revenge which a man can take is, not to slay the murderer himself, but his dearest friend."[67] In these instances vengeance is exacted with reference rather to the loss suffered by the survivors than to the injury committed against the murdered man, the culprit being subjected to a deprivation similar to that which he has inflicted himself. So, also, among the Marea, if a commoner is slain by a nobleman, his death is not avenged directly on the slayer, but on some commoner who is subservient to him.[68] If, again, among the Quianganes of Luzon, a noble is killed by a plebeian, another nobleman, of the kin of the murderer, must be killed, while the murderer himself is ignored.[69] If, among the Igorrotes, a man slays a woman of another house, her nearest kinsman endeavours to slay a woman belonging to the household of the homicide, but to the guilty man himself he does nothing.[70] In all these cases the culprit is not lost sight of; vengeance is invariably wreaked upon somebody connected with him. But any consideration of guilt or innocence is overshadowed by the blind subordination to that powerful rule which requires strict equivalence between injury and punishment--an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth--and which, when strained to the utmost, cannot allow the life of a man to be sacrificed for that of a woman, or the life of a nobleman to be {35} sacrificed for that of a commoner, or the life of a commoner to expiate the death of a noble. This rule, as we shall see later on, is not suggested by revenge itself, but is due to the influence of other factors which intermingle with this feeling, and help, with it, to determine the action. [Footnote 61: Romilly, _Western Pacific and New Guinea_, p. 81. _Cf._ Friedrichs, 'Mensch und Person,' in _Das Ausland_, 1891, p. 299.] [Footnote 62: See, _e.g._, Scott Robertson, _The Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 440.] [Footnote 63: Dr. Post's statement (_Die Geschlechtsgenossenschaft der Urzeit_, p. 156) that the blood-revenge "characterisirt sich . . . ganz und gar als ein Privatkrieg zwischen zwei Geschlechtsgenossenschaften," however, is not quite correct in this unqualified form, as may be seen, _e.g._, from von Martius's description of the blood-revenge of the Brazilian Indians, _op. cit._ i. 127 _sqq._] [Footnote 64: Wilkins, _Modern Hinduism_, p. 411.] [Footnote 65: Krauss, _op. cit._ p. 39.] [Footnote 66: Blunt, _Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates_, ii. 206 _sq._] [Footnote 67: Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 320.] [Footnote 68: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 243.] [Footnote 69: Blumentritt, quoted by Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, i. 370 _sq._] [Footnote 70: Jagor, _Travels in the Philippines_, p. 213.] Nevertheless, the strong tendency to discrimination which characterises resentment, is not wholly lost even behind the veil of common responsibility. Mr. Howitt has come to the conclusion that, among the Australian Kurnai, if a homicide has been committed by an alien tribe, the feud "cannot be satisfied but by the death of the offender," although it is carried on, not against him alone, but against the whole group of which he is a member.[71] It is only "if they fail to secure the guilty person" that the natives of Western Victoria consider it their duty to kill one of his nearest relatives.[72] Concerning the West Australian aborigines, Sir George Grey observes, "The first great principle with regard to punishments is, that all the relations of a culprit, in the event of his not being found, are implicated in his guilt; if, therefore, the principal cannot be caught, his brother or father will answer nearly as well, and failing these, any other male or female relative, who may fall into the hands of the avenging party."[73] Among the Papuans of the Tami Islands, revenge may be taken on some other member of the murderer's family only if it is absolutely impossible to catch the guilty person himself.[74] That the blood-revenge is in the first place directed against the malefactor, and against some relative of his only if he cannot be found out, is expressly stated with reference to various peoples in different parts of the world;[75] and it is {36} probable that much more to the same effect might have been discovered, if the observers of savage life had paid more attention to this particular aspect of the matter. Among the Fuegians, the most serious riots take place when a manslayer, whom some one wishes to punish, takes refuge with his relations or friends.[76] Von Martius remarks of the Brazilian Indians in general that, even when an intertribal war ensues from the committing of homicide, the nearest relations of the killed person endeavour, if possible, to destroy the culprit himself and his family.[77] With reference to the Creek Indians, Mr. Hawkins says that though, if a murderer flies and cannot be caught, they will take revenge upon some innocent individual belonging to his family, they are "generally earnest of themselves, in their endeavours to put the guilty to death."[78] The same is decidedly the case in those parts of Morocco where the blood-feud still prevails. [Footnote 71: Fison and Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 221.] [Footnote 72: Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 71.] [Footnote 73: Grey, _Journals of Expeditions_, ii. 239.] [Footnote 74: Bamler, quoted by Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xiv. 380.] [Footnote 75: Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua_, p. 434 (natives of Wetter). Chalmers, _Pioneering in New Guinea_, p. 179. Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xiv. 446 (some Marshall Islanders). Merker, quoted by Kohler, _ibid._ xv. 53 _sq._ (Wadshagga). Brett, _Indian Tribes of Guiana_, p. 357. Bernau, _Missionary Labours in British Guiana_, p. 57. Dall, _Alaska_, p. 416. Boas, 'The Central Eskimo,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ vi. 582. Jacob, _Leben der vorislâmischen Beduinen_, p. 144. Kovalewsky, _Coutume contemporaine_, p. 248 (Ossetes). Popovi['c], _Recht und Gericht in Montenegro_, p. 69; Lago, _op. cit._ ii. 90 (Montenegrines). Miklosich, _loc. cit._ p. 131 (Slavs). Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 173 _sq._ (ancient Teutons).] [Footnote 76: Hyades and Deniker, _Mission scientifique du Cap Horn_, vii. 375.] [Footnote 77: von Martius, _op. cit._ i. 128.] [Footnote 78: Hawkins, in _Trans. American Ethn. Soc._ iii. 67.] Not only has Dr. Steinmetz failed to prove his hypothesis that revenge was originally "undirected," but this hypothesis is quite opposed to all the most probable ideas we can form with regard to the revenge of early man. For my own part I am convinced that we may obtain a good deal of knowledge about the primitive condition of the human race, but not by studying modern savages only. I have dealt with this question at some length in another place,[79] and wish now merely to point out that those general physical and psychical qualities which are not only common to all races of mankind, but which are shared by them with the animals most allied to man, may be assumed to have been present also in the earlier stages of {37} human development. Now, concerning revenge among animals, more especially among monkeys, many anecdotes have been told by trustworthy authorities, and in every case the revenge has been clearly directed against the offender. [Footnote 79: _History of Human Marriage_, p. 3 _sqq._] On the authority of a zoologist "whose scrupulous accuracy was known to many persons," Darwin relates the following story:--"At the Cape of Good Hope an officer had often plagued a certain baboon, and the animal, seeing him approaching one Sunday for parade, poured water into a hole and hastily made some thick mud, which he skilfully dashed over the officer as he passed by, to the amusement of many bystanders. For long afterwards the baboon rejoiced and triumphed whenever he saw his victim."[80] Prof. Romanes considers this to be a good instance of "what may be called brooding resentment deliberately preparing a satisfactory revenge."[81] This, I think, is to put into the statement somewhat more than it really contains; but at all events it records a case of revenge, in the sense in which Dr. Steinmetz uses the word. The same may be said of other instances mentioned by so accurate observers as Brehm and Rengger in their descriptions of African and American monkeys, and of various examples of resentment in elephants and even in camels.[82] According to Palgrave, the camel possesses the passion of revenge, and in carrying it out "shows an unexpected degree of far-thoughted malice, united meanwhile with all the cold stupidity of his usual character." The following instance, which occurred in a small Arabian town, deserves to be quoted, since it seems to have escaped the notice of the students of animal psychology. "A lad of about fourteen had conducted a large camel, laden with wood, from that very village to another at half an hour's distance or so. As the {38} animal loitered or turned out of the way, its conductor struck it repeatedly, and harder than it seems to have thought he had a right to do. But not finding the occasion favourable for taking immediate quits, it 'bode its time'; nor was that time long in coming. A few days later the same lad had to re-conduct the beast, but unladen, to his own village. When they were about half way on the road, and at some distance from any habitation, the camel suddenly stopped, looked deliberately round in every direction, to assure itself that no one was within sight, and, finding the road far and near clear of passers-by, made a step forward, seized the unlucky boy's head in its monstrous mouth, and lifting him up in the air flung him down again on the earth with the upper part of his skull completely torn off, and his brains scattered on the ground."[83] We are also told that elephants, though very sensitive to insults, are never provoked, even under the most painful or distracting circumstances, to hurt those from whom they have received no harm.[84] Sometimes animals show a remarkable degree of discrimination in finding out the proper object for their resentment. It is hardly surprising to read that a baboon, which was molested in its cage with a stick, tried to seize, not the stick, but the hand of its tormentor.[85] More interesting is the "revenge" which an elephant at Versailles inflicted upon a certain artist who had employed his servant to tease the animal by making a feint of throwing apples into its mouth:--"This conduct enraged the elephant; and, as if it knew that the painter was the cause of this teasing impertinence, instead of attacking the servant, it eyed the master, and squirted at him from its trunk such a quantity of water as spoiled the paper on which he was drawing."[86] [Footnote 80: Darwin, _Descent of Man_, p. 69.] [Footnote 81: Romanes, _Animal Intelligence_, p. 478.] [Footnote 82: Brehm, _Thierleben_, i. 156. _Idem_, _From North Pole to Equator_, p. 305. Rengger (_Naturgeschichte der Säugethiere von Paraguay_, p. 52) gives the following information about the Cay:--"Fürchtet er . . . seinen Gegner, so nimmt er seine Zuflucht zur Verstellung, und sucht sich erst dann an ihm zu rächen, wenn er ihn unvermuthet überfallen kann. So hatte ich einen Cay, welcher mehrere Personen die ihn oft auf eine grobe Art geneckt hatten, in einem Augenblicke lass, wo sie im besten Vernehmen mit ihm zu sein glaubten. Nach verübter That kletterte er schnell auf einen hohen Balken, wo man ihm nicht beikommen konnte, und grinste schadenfroh den Gegenstand seiner Rache an." See, moreover, Watson, _The Reasoning Power in Animals_, especially pp. 20, 21, 24, 156 _sq._; Romanes, _op. cit._ p. 387 _sqq._; but also Morgan, _Animal Life and Intelligence_, p. 401 _sq._] [Footnote 83: Palgrave, _Narrative of a Year's Journey through Central and Eastern Arabia_, i. 40.] [Footnote 84: Watson, _op. cit._ p. 26 _sq._] [Footnote 85: Aas, _Sjaeleliv og intelligens hos Dyr_, i. 72.] [Footnote 86: Smellie, _Philosophy of Natural History_, i. 448.] I find it inconceivable that anybody, in the face of such facts, could still believe that the revenge of early man was at first essentially indiscriminating, and became gradually discriminating from considerations of social expediency. But by this I certainly do not mean to deny that violation of the "self-feeling" is an extremely common and powerful incentive to resentment. It is so {39} among savage[87] and civilised men alike; even dogs and monkeys get angry when laughed at. Nothing more easily rouses in us anger and a desire for retaliation, nothing is more difficult to forgive, than an act which indicates contempt, or disregard of our feelings. Long after the bodily pain of a blow has ceased, the mental suffering caused by the insult remains and calls for vengeance. This is an old truth often told. According to Seneca, "the greater part of the things which enrage us are insults, not injuries."[88] Plutarch observes that, though different persons fall into anger for different reasons, yet in nearly all of them is to be found the idea of their being despised or neglected.[89] "Contempt," says Bacon, "is that which putteth an edge upon anger, as much, or more, than the hurt itself."[90] But, indeed, there is no need to resort to different principles in order to explain the resentment excited by different kinds of pain. In all cases revenge implies, primordially and essentially, a desire to cause pain or destruction in return for hurt suffered, whether the hurt be bodily or mental; and, if to this impulse is added a desire to enhance the wounded "self-feeling," that does not interfere with the true nature of the primary feeling of revenge. There are genuine specimens of resentment without the co-operation of self-regarding pride;[91] and, on the other hand, the reaction of the wounded "self-feeling" is not necessarily, in the first place, concerned with the infliction of pain. If a person has written a bad book which is severely criticised, he may desire to repair his reputation by writing a better book, not by humiliating his critics; and if he attempts the latter rather than the former, he does so, not merely in order to enhance his "self-feeling," {40} but because he is driven on by revenge. Dr. Boas tells us that the British Columbia Indian, when his feelings are hurt, sits down or lies down sullenly for days without partaking of food, and that, "when he rises his first thought is, not how to take revenge, but to show that he is superior to his adversary.[92] [Footnote 87: Turner, 'Ethnology of the Ungava District,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xi. 270 (Hudson Bay Indians). Georgi, _Russia_, iii. 205 (Aleuts). Sarasin, _Ergebnisse naturwiss. Forschungen auf Ceylon_, iii. 537 (Veddahs). von Wrede, _Reise in [H.]adhramaut_, p. 157 (Bedouins). Winterbottom, _Native Africans in the Neighbourhood of Sierra Leone_, i. 211.] [Footnote 88: Seneca, _De ira_, iii. 28.] [Footnote 89: Plutarch, _De cohibenda ira_, 12.] [Footnote 90: Bacon, 'Essay LVII. Of Anger,' in _Essays_, p. 514.] [Footnote 91: Bain, _Emotions and the Will_, p. 177.] [Footnote 92: Boas, _First General Report on the Indians of British Columbia_, read at the Newcastle-upon-Tyne meeting of the British Association, 1889, p. 19.] In the feeling of gratification which results from successful resentment, the pleasure of power or superiority also may form a very important element, but it is never the exclusive element.[93] As the satisfaction of every desire is accompanied by pleasure, so the satisfaction of the desire involved in resentment gives a pleasure by itself. The angry or revengeful man who succeeds in what he aims at, delights in the pain he inflicts for the very reason that he desired to inflict it. [Footnote 93: _Cf._ Ribot, _op. cit._ p. 221 _sq._] Revenge thus only forms a link in a chain of emotional phenomena, for which "non-moral resentment" may be used as a common name. In this long chain there is no missing link. Anger without any definite desire to cause suffering, anger with such a desire, more deliberate resentment--all these phenomena are so inseparably connected with each other that no one can say where one passes into another. Their common characteristic is that they are mental states marked by an aggressive attitude towards the cause of pain. As to their origin, the evolutionist can hardly entertain a doubt. Resentment, like protective reflex action, out of which it has gradually developed, is a means of protection for the animal. Its intrinsic object is to remove a cause of pain, or, what is the same, a cause of danger. Two different attitudes may be taken by an animal towards another which has made it feel pain: it may either shun or attack its enemy. In the former case its action is prompted by fear, in the latter by anger, and it depends on the circumstances which of these emotions is the actual {41} determinant. Both of them are of supreme importance for the preservation of the species, and may consequently be regarded as elements in the animal's mental constitution which have been acquired by means of natural selection in the struggle for existence. We have already noted that, originally, the impulse of attacking the enemy could hardly have been guided by a representation of the enemy as suffering. But, as a successful attack is necessarily accompanied by such suffering, the desire to produce it naturally, with the increase of intelligence, entered as an important element in resentment. The need for protection thus lies at the foundation of resentment in all its forms. This view is not new. More than one hundred and fifty years before Darwin, Shaftesbury wrote of resentment in these words:--"Notwithstanding its immediate aim be indeed the ill or punishment of another, yet it is plainly of the sort of those [affections] which tend to the advantage and interest of the self-system, the animal himself; and is withal in other respects contributing to the good and interest of the species."[94] A similar opinion is expressed by Butler, according to whom the reason and end for which man was made liable to anger is, that he might be better qualified to prevent and resist violence and opposition, while deliberate resentment "is to be considered as a weapon, put into our hands by nature, against injury, injustice, and cruelty."[95] Adam Smith, also, believes that resentment has "been given us by nature for defence, and for defence only," as being "the safeguard of justice and the security of innocence."[96] Exactly the same view is taken by several modern evolutionists as regards the "end" of resentment, though they, of course, do not rest contented with saying that this feeling has been given us by nature, but try to explain in what way it has developed. "Among members of the same species," says Mr. Herbert Spencer, "those individuals which have not, in any considerable degree, resented aggressions, must have ever tended to disappear, and to have left behind those which have with some effect made counter-aggressions."[97] Mr. {42} Hiram Stanley, too, quoting Junker's statement regarding the pigmies of Africa, that "they are much feared for their revengeful spirit,"[98] observes that, "other things being equal, the most revengeful are the most successful in the struggle for self-conservation and self-furtherance."[99] This evolutionist theory of revenge has been criticised by Dr. Steinmetz, but in my opinion with no success. He remarks that the _feeling_ of revenge could not have been of any use to the animal, even though the _act_ of vengeance might have been useful.[100] But this way of reasoning, according to which the whole mental life would be excluded from the influence of natural selection, is based on a false conception of the relation between mind and body, and, ultimately, on a wrong idea of cause and effect. [Footnote 94: Shaftesbury, 'Inquiry concerning Virtue or Merit,' ii. 2. 2, in _Characteristicks_, ii. 145.] [Footnote 95: Butler, 'Sermon VIII.--Upon Resentment,' _op. cit._ p. 457.] [Footnote 96: Adam Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 113.] [Footnote 97: Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, i. 361.] [Footnote 98: Junker, _Travels in Africa during the Years 1882-1886_, p. 85.] [Footnote 99: Hiram Stanley, _op. cit._ p. 180. _Cf._ also Guyau, _Esquisse d'une Morale sans obligation ni sanction_, p. 162 _sq._] [Footnote 100: Steinmetz, _Ethnol. Studien, &c._ i. 135.] From non-moral resentment we shall pass to the emotion of moral indignation. That this is closely connected with anger is indicated by language itself: we may feel indignant on other than moral grounds, and we may feel "righteous anger." The relationship between these emotions is also conspicuous in their outward expressions, which, when the emotion is strong enough, present similar characteristics. When possessed with strong moral indignation, a person looks as if he were angry,[101] and so he really is, in the wider sense of the term. This relationship has not seldom been recognised by moralists, though it has more often been forgotten. Some two thousand years ago Polybius wrote:--"If a man has been rescued or helped in an hour of danger, and, instead of showing gratitude to his preserver, seeks to do him harm, it is clearly probable that the rest will be displeased and offended with him when they know it, sympathising with their neighbour and imagining themselves in his case. Hence arises a notion in every breast of the meaning and theory of duty, which is in fact the beginning and end of justice."[102] Hartley regarded resentment and gratitude {43} as "intimately connected with the moral sense."[103] Adam Smith made the resentment of "the impartial spectator" a corner-stone of his theory of the moral sentiments.[104] Butler found the essential difference between sudden and deliberate anger to consist in this, that the "natural proper end" of the latter is "to remedy or prevent only that harm which implies, or is supposed to imply, injury or moral wrong."[105] And to Stuart Mill, the sentiment of justice, at least, appeared to be derived from "the animal desire to repel or retaliate a hurt or damage to oneself, or to those with whom one sympathises."[106] [Footnote 101: Notice, for instance, Michelangelo's Moses.] [Footnote 102: Polybius, _Historiae_, vi. 6.] [Footnote 103: Hartley, _Observations on Man_, i. 520.] [Footnote 104: Adam Smith, _op. cit._ _passim_.] [Footnote 105: Butler, _op. cit._ p. 458.] [Footnote 106: Stuart Mill, _Utilitarianism_, p. 79.] Moral indignation, or disapproval, like non-moral resentment, is a reactionary attitude of mind directed towards the cause of inflicted pain. In a subsequent chapter we shall see that both are in a similar way determined by the answer given to the question, What is the cause of the pain?--a fact which, whilst strongly confirming their affinity, throws light upon some of the chief characteristics of the moral consciousness. Nay, moral indignation resembles non-moral resentment even in this respect that, in various cases, the aggressive reaction turns against innocent persons who did not commit the injury which gave rise to it. The collective responsibility assumed in certain types of blood-revenge is an evidence of this in so far as such revenge is not merely a matter of individual practice, but has the sanction of custom. And even punishment, which, in the strict sense of the term, is a more definite expression of public, or moral, indignation than the custom of private retaliation, is often similarly indiscriminate. Like revenge, and for similar reasons, punishment sometimes falls on a relative of the culprit in cases when he himself cannot be caught. In Fiji, says Mr. Williams, "the virtue of vicarious suffering is recognised." It once happened that a warrior left his charged musket so {44} carelessly that it went off and killed and wounded some individuals, whereupon he fled himself. His case was judged worthy of death by the chiefs of the tribe, and the offender's aged father was in consequence seized and strangled.[107] [Footnote 107: Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, p. 24.] In other cases an innocent person is killed for the offence of another, not because the offender cannot be seized, but with a view to inflicting on him a loss, according to the rule of like for like. The punishment, then, is meant for the culprit, though the chief sufferer is somebody else. According to the Laws of [Hv]ammurabi, "if a builder has built a house for a man and has not made strong his work, and the house he built has fallen, and he has caused the death of the owner, that builder shall be put to death." But "if he has caused the son of the owner of the house to die, one shall put to death the son of that builder."[108] Similarly, "if a man has struck a gentleman's daughter and caused her to drop what is in her womb, he shall pay ten shekels of silver for what was in her womb." But "if that woman has died, one shall put to death his daughter."[109] The following custom which Mr. Gason reports, as existing among the Australian Dieyerie, in case a man should unintentionally kill another in a fight, is probably based on a similar principle:--"Should the offender have an elder brother, then he must die in his place; or, should he have no elder brother, then his father must be his substitute; but in case he has no male relative to suffer for him, then he himself must die."[110] [Footnote 108: _Laws of [Hv]ammurabi_, 229 _sq._] [Footnote 109: _Ibid._ 209 _sq._] [Footnote 110: Gason, 'Manners and Customs of the Dieyerie Tribe,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 265.] This extreme disregard of the suffering of guiltless persons is probably not so much due to downright callousness as to a strong feeling of family solidarity. The same feeling is very obvious in those numerous instances in which both the criminal himself and members of his family are implicated in the punishment. {45} Among the Atkha Aleuts, the punishment for certain offences was sometimes carried so far as to include the wife of the offender.[111] Among the E[(w]e-speaking peoples of the Slave Coast, "a person found guilty of having procured, or endeavoured to procure, the death of another through the agency of the gods Huntin and Loko, is put to death, and his family is generally enslaved as well."[112] Among the Matabele, if a person is declared by the witch-doctor to have caused injury to somebody else by making charms, he "is immediately put to death, his wife and the whole of his family sharing his fate."[113] Among the Shilluks of the White Nile, "murder is punished with death to the criminal and the forfeiture of wives and children to the Sultan, who retains them in bondage."[114] Among the Kafirs, in cases of trespasses against the king, the sentence falls not only on the individual, but on his whole house.[115] In Madagascar, the code of native laws, up to recent time, reduced for many offences the culprit's wife and children to slavery.[116] In some parts of the Malay Archipelago, according to Crawfurd, a father and child are considered almost inseparable, hence when the one is punished the other seldom escapes.[117] In Bali, the law prescribes that for certain kinds of sorcery the offender shall be put to death. It adds, "If the matter be very clearly made out, let the punishment of death be extended to his father and his mother, to his children and to his grand-children; let none of them live; let none connected with one so guilty remain on the face of the land, and let their goods be in like manner confiscated."[118] [Footnote 111: Petroff, 'Report on Alaska,' in _Tenth Census of the United States_, p. 158.] [Footnote 112: Ellis, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 225.] [Footnote 113: Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, p. 153.] [Footnote 114: Petherick, _Travels in Central Africa_, ii. 3.] [Footnote 115: Ratzel, _History of Mankind_, ii. 445.] [Footnote 116: Sibree, _The Great African Island_, p. 181. Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 174, 175, 193.] [Footnote 117: Crawfurd, _op. cit._ i. 82.] [Footnote 118: _Ibid._ iii. 138.] The Chinese doctrine of responsibility is to a great extent based upon family solidarity; in great crimes all the male relatives of the offender are held responsible for his deed. Every male relative, of whatever degree, who may be dwelling under the roof of a man guilty of treason, is doomed to death, with the exception of young boys, who are allowed their lives, but on the condition that they are made eunuchs for service in the imperial palace.[119] In ancient Mexico, traitors and conspirators were not only themselves killed, but their children and relatives {46} were made slaves to the fourth generation.[120] According to an Athenian law, a man who committed sacrilege or betrayed his country was banished with all his children.[121] Aristotle mentions a case of sacrilege in which "the bones of the guilty dead were disentombed and cast beyond the borders of Attica; the living clan were condemned to perpetual exile, and the city was subsequently purified."[122] The Macedonian law involved in punishment the kindred of conspirators against the monarch.[123] Dionysius of Halicarnassus states that some of the Greeks "think it reasonable to put to death the sons of tyrants together with their fathers, whereas others punish them with perpetual banishment"; and he contrasts this with the Roman principle that "the sons shall be exempted from all punishment, whose fathers are offenders, whether they happen to be the sons of tyrants, of parricides, or of traitors."[124] But after the end of the Marsic, and civil wars, this rule was transgressed;[125] and later on Arcadius, though expressly ordaining that the punishment of the crime shall extend to the criminal alone,[126] took a different view of the punishment for treason. By a special extension of his imperial clemency, he allows the sons of the criminal to live, although in strict justice, being tainted with hereditary guilt, they ought to suffer the punishment of their father. But they shall be incapable of inheritance; they shall be abandoned to the extreme of poverty and perpetual indigence; they shall be excluded from all honours and from the participation of religious rites; the infamy of their father shall ever attend them, and such shall be the misery of their condition, that life shall be a punishment and death a comfort.[127] Among the Anglo-Saxons, before the time of Cnut, the child, even the infant in the cradle, was liable to be sold into slavery for the payment of penalties incurred by the father, being "held by the covetous to be equally guilty as if it had discretion."[128] Even later, the child of an outlaw, following the condition of the father, also became an outlaw; and this grievance was only partly remedied by Edward the Confessor, who relieved from the consequences of the father's outlawry such children as were born before he was {47} outlawed, but not such as were born afterwards.[129] During the Middle Ages it was the invariable rule to confiscate the entire property of an impenitent heretic, a rule which was justified on the ground that his crime is so great that something of his impurity falls upon all related to him.[130] The Pope Alexander IV. also excluded the descendants of an heretic to the second generation from all offices in the Church.[131] Owing to religious influence, illegitimate children were not only deprived of the title to inheritance, but they were treated by some law-books as almost rightless beings, on a par with robbers and thieves.[132] If a person committed suicide, his goods were confiscated, and, according to a French mediæval law, his wife was besides deprived of her own private property.[133] Even in the latter half of the eighteenth century, in France, in the case of an attempt made against the life of the king, the whole family of the criminal was banished.[134] Nay, in various European countries, up to quite recent times--in England till 1870--forfeiture of property has been the punishment prescribed for certain crimes, including suicide;[135] which means, if not actually the imposition of penalties on the survivors in a case where the culprit himself is out of reach, at least a gross disregard of their ordinary rights of property. It is hardly necessary to point out how often, in the very society in which we live, "social punishments" are inflicted upon children for their father's wrongs. [Footnote 119: Douglas, _Society in China_, p. 71 _sq._ _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. ccliv. p. 270.] [Footnote 120: Bancroft, _Native Races of the Pacific States_, ii. 459.] [Footnote 121: Meursius, _Themis Attica_, ii. 2, in Gronovius, _Thesaurus Graecarum Antiquitatum_, v. 1968.] [Footnote 122: Aristotle, _De republica Atheniensium_ 1. _Cf._ _ibid._ 20.] [Footnote 123: Curtius Rufus, _De gestis Alexandri Magni_, vi. 11. 20.] [Footnote 124: Dionysius of Halicarnassus, _Antiquitates Romanae_, viii. 80.] [Footnote 125: _Ibid._ viii. 80.] [Footnote 126: _Codex Iustinianus_, ix. 47. 22.] [Footnote 127: _Ibid._ ix. 8. 5.] [Footnote 128: Laws of Cnut, ii. 77. _Cf._ Lappenberg, _History of England under the Anglo-Saxon Kings_, ii. 414; Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 906.] [Footnote 129: _Leges Edwardi Confessoris_, 19.] [Footnote 130: Lecky, _History of Rationalism in Europe_, ii. 36, n. 1. Eicken, _Geschichte und System der mittelalterlichen Weltanschauung_, p. 572 _sq._ Paramo, _De origine et progressu Sancti Inquisitionis_ p. 587 _sq._] [Footnote 131: Eicken, _op. cit._ p. 573.] [Footnote 132: _Ibid._ p. 573.] [Footnote 133: Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel des peuples modernes_, ii. 236.] [Footnote 134: Hertz, _Voltaire und die französische Strafrechtspflege im achtzehnten Jahrhundert_, p. 27.] [Footnote 135: Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, i. 487 _sq._; iii. 105.] For the explanation of these facts we have to remember what has been said before about collective responsibility in the case of revenge. Speaking of the Chinese doctrine of family solidarity, Dr. de Groot observes that, "under the influence of this doctrine, families, not men individually, came to be regarded, from the Government's point of view, as the smallest particles, the molecules of the nation, each individual being swallowed up in the circle of his kinsfolk."[136] Such a doctrine assumes that the other members of the family-group are, in a way, accessories {48} to any crime committed by a fellow-member. "Human nature," says Lord Kames, "is not so perverse, as without veil or disguise to punish a person acknowledged to be innocent. An irregular bias of imagination, which extends the qualities of the principal to its accessories, paves the way to that unjust practice. This bias, strengthened by indignation against an atrocious criminal, leads the mind hastily to conclude, that all his connections are partakers of his guilt."[137] Among the ancients we also meet with a strong belief that, according to the course of nature, wicked fathers have wicked sons. "That which is begot," says Plutarch, "is not, like some production of art unlike the begetter, for it proceeds from him, and is not merely produced by him, so that it appropriately receives his share, whether that be honour or punishment."[138] To destroy, or to make harmless, the family of an offender may be, not only an act of retaliation, but a precaution; according to an old Greek adage, "a man is a fool if he kills the father and leaves the sons alive."[139] This especially holds good for treason, which generally suggests accomplices; and of all crimes for which penalties are imposed upon other individuals besides the culprit, treason is probably the most common. This crime is also particularly apt to evoke the hatred of those who have the power to punish, hence the punishment of it, being closely allied to an act of revenge, is often inflicted without due discrimination. Moreover, by being extended to the criminal's family, the punishment falls more heavily upon himself as well. Again, in case the crime is of a sacrilegious character, it is supposed to pollute everybody connected with the criminal, and even the whole community where he dwells. [Footnote 136: de Groot, _Religious System of China_ (vol. ii. book) i. 539.] [Footnote 137: Kames, _Sketches of the History of Man_, iv. 148.] [Footnote 138: Plutarch, _De sera numinis vindicta_, 16. _Cf._ Dionysius of Halicarnassus, _op. cit._ viii. 80.] [Footnote 139: Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 126.] In their administration of justice, gods are still more indiscriminate than men. They hold the individual responsible for the whole to which he belongs. They {49} punish the community for the sins of one of its members. They visit the iniquity of the fathers and forefathers upon the children and descendants. The Sibuyaus, a tribe belonging to the Sea Dyaks, "are of opinion that an unmarried girl proving with child must be offensive to the superior powers, who, instead of always chastising the individual, punish the tribe by misfortunes happening to its members. They, therefore, on the discovery of the pregnancy fine the lovers, and sacrifice a pig to propitiate offended Heaven, and to avert that sickness or those misfortunes that might otherwise follow; and they inflict heavy mulcts for every one who may have suffered from any severe accident, or who may have been drowned within a month before the religious atonement was made."[140] According to Chinese beliefs, whole kingdoms are punished for the conduct of their rulers by spirits who act as avengers with orders or approval from the _Tao_, or Heaven.[141] Prevalent opinion in China, continuously inspired anew by literature of all times and ages, further admits that spiritual vengeance may come down upon the culprit's offspring in the form of disease or death.[142] When a maimed or deformed child is born the Japanese say that its parents or ancestors must have committed some great sin.[143] The Vedic people ask Varuna to forgive the wrongs committed by their fathers.[144] Says the poet:--"What we ourselves have sinned in mercy pardon; my own misdeeds do thou, O god, take from me, and for another's sin let me not suffer."[145] According to the ancient Greek theory of divine retribution, the community has to suffer for the sins of some of its members, children for the sins of their fathers.[146] Hesiod says that often a whole town is punished with famine, pestilence, barrenness of its women, or loss of its army or vessels for the misdeeds of a single individual.[147] Cr[oe]sus atoned by the forfeiture of his kingdom for the crime of Gyges, his fifth ancestor, who had murdered his master and usurped his throne.[148] Cytissorus brought down the anger of gods upon his descendants by {50} rescuing Athamas, whom the Achaians intended to offer up as an expiatory sacrifice on behalf of their country.[149] When hearing of the death of his wife, Theseus exclaims, "This must be a heaven-sent calamity in consequence of the sins of an ancestor, which from some remote source I am bringing on myself."[150] According to Hebrew notions, sin affects the nation through the individual and entails guilt on succeeding generations.[151] The anger of the Lord is kindled against the children of Israel on account of Achan's sin.[152] The sin of the sons of Eli is visited on his whole house from generation to generation.[153] Because Saul has slain the Gibeonites, the Lord sends, in the days of David, a three years' famine, which ceases only when seven of Saul's sons are hanged.[154] The sins of Manasseh are expiated even by the better generation under Josiah.[155] The notion of a jealous God who visits the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate Him,[156] is also frequently met with in the Old Testament Apocrypha. "The inheritance of sinners' children shall perish, and their posterity shall have a perpetual reproach."[157] "The seed of an unrighteous bed shall be rooted out."[158] The same idea has survived among Christian peoples. It was referred to in Canon Law as a principle to be imitated by human justice,[159] and by Innocent III. in justification of a bull which authorised the confiscation of the goods of heretics.[160] Up to quite recent times it was a common belief in Scotland that the punishment of the cruelty, oppression, or misconduct of an individual descended as a curse on his children to the third and fourth generation. It was not confined to the common people; "all ranks were influenced by it; and many believed that if the curse did not fall upon the first or second generation it would inevitably descend upon the succeeding."[161] In the dogma that the whole human race is condemned on {51} account of the sin of its first parents, the doctrine of collective responsibility has reached its pitch. [Footnote 140: St. John, _Life in the Forests of the Far East_, i. 63.] [Footnote 141: de Groot, _op. cit._ (vol. iv. book) ii. 432, 435. Davis, _China_, ii. 34 _sq._] [Footnote 142: de Groot, _op. cit._ (vol. iv. book) ii. 452.] [Footnote 143: Griffis, _Mikado's Empire_, p. 472.] [Footnote 144: _Rig-Veda_, vii. 86. 5. _Cf._ _Atharva-Veda_, v. 30. 4; x. 3. 8.] [Footnote 145: _Rig-Veda_, ii. 28. 9. _Cf._ _ibid._ vi. 51. 7; vii. 52. 2.] [Footnote 146: Nägelsbach, _Nachhomerische Theologie des griechischen Volksglaubens_, p. 34 _sq._ Schmidt, _op. cit._ i. 67 _sqq._ Farnell, _Cults of the Greek States_, i. 76 _sq._] [Footnote 147: Hesiod, _Opera et dies_, 240 _sqq._] [Footnote 148: Herodotus, i. 91.] [Footnote 149: _Ibid._ vii. 197.] [Footnote 150: Euripides, _Hippolytus_, 831 _sq._] [Footnote 151: Oehler, _Theology of the Old Testament_, i. 236. Dorner, _System of Christian Doctrine_, ii. 325. Montefiore, _Hibbert Lectures_, p. 103. Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 421. Schultz, _Old Testament Theology_, ii. 308. Bernard, 'Sin,' in Hastings, _Dictionary of the Bible_, iv. 530, 534.] [Footnote 152: _Joshua_, vii. 1.] [Footnote 153: _1 Samuel_, ii. 27 _sqq._] [Footnote 154: _2 Samuel_, xxi. 1 _sqq._] [Footnote 155: _Deuteronomy_, i. 37; iii. 26; iv. 21. _2 Kings_, xxiii. 26; xxiv. 3. _Jeremiah_, xv. 4 _sqq._] [Footnote 156: _Exodus_, xx. 5; xxiv. 7, _Numbers_, xiv. 18. _Deuteronomy_, v. 9. _Cf._ _Leviticus_, xxvi. 39.] [Footnote 157: _Ecclesiasticus_, xli. 6. _Cf._ _ibid._ xvi. 4; xli. 5, 7 _sqq._] [Footnote 158: _Wisdom of Solomon_, iii. 16. _Cf._ _ibid._ iii. 12, 13, 17 _sqq._] [Footnote 159: Eicken, _op. cit._ p. 572.] [Footnote 160: Lecky, _History of Rationalism in Europe_, ii. 37 n.] [Footnote 161: Stewart, _Sketches of the Character, &c., of the Highlanders of Scotland_, p. 127.] Men originally attribute to their gods mental qualities similar to their own, and imagine them to be no less fierce and vindictive than they are themselves. Thus the retribution of a god is, in many cases, nothing but an outburst of sudden anger, or an act of private revenge, and as such particularly liable to comprise, not only the offender himself, but those connected with him. Plutarch even argued that the punishments inflicted by gods on cities for ill-deeds committed by their former inhabitants allowed of a just defence, on the ground that a city is "one continuous entity, a sort of creature that never changes from age, or becomes different by time, but is ever sympathetic with and conformable to itself," and therefore "answerable for whatever it does or has done for the public weal, as long as the community by its union and federal bonds preserves its unity."[162] He further observes that a bad man is not bad only when he breaks out into crime, but has the seeds of vice in his nature, and that the deity, knowing the nature and disposition of every man, prefers stifling crime in embryo to waiting till it becomes ripe.[163] [Footnote 162: Plutarch, _De sera numinis vindicta_, 15.] [Footnote 163: _Ibid._ 20.] But there are yet special reasons for extending the retribution of a god beyond the limits of individual guilt. Whilst the resentment of a man is a matter of experience, that of a god is a matter of inference. That some particular case of suffering is a divine punishment, is inferred either from its own peculiar character, suggesting the direct interference of a god, or from the assumption that a certain act, on account of its offensiveness, cannot be left unpunished. Now experience shows that, in many instances, the sinner himself escapes all punishment, leading a happy life till his death; hence the conclusion is near at hand that any grave misfortune which befalls his descendants, is the delayed retribution of the offended {52} god.[164] Such a conclusion is quite in harmony with the common notions of divine power. It especially forces itself upon a mind which has no idea of a hell with _post mortem_ punishments for the wicked. And, where the spirit of a man after his death is believed to be still ardently concerned for the welfare of his family,[165] the affliction of his descendants naturally appears as a punishment inflicted upon himself. As Dr. de Groot observes, the doctrine of the Chinese, that spiritual vengeance may descend on the offender's offspring, tallies perfectly with their conception "that the severest punishment which may be inflicted on one, both in his present life and the next, is decline or extermination of his male issue, leaving nobody to support him in his old age, nobody to protect him after his death from misery and hunger by caring for his corpse and grave, and sacrificing to his manes."[166] [Footnote 164: _Cf._ Isocrates, _Oratio de pace_, 120; Cicero, _De natura Deorum_, iii. 38; Nägelsbach, _op. cit._ p. 33 _sq._] [Footnote 165: _Cf._ Schmidt, _op. cit._ i. 71 _sq._ (ancient Greeks).] [Footnote 166: de Groot, _op. cit._ (vol. iv. book) ii. 452.] The retributive sufferings which innocent persons have to undergo in consequence of the sins of the guilty, are not always supposed to be inflicted upon them directly, as a result of divine resentment. They are often attributed to infection. Sin is looked upon in the light of a contagious matter which may be transmitted from parents to children, or be communicated by contact. This idea is well illustrated by the funeral ceremonies of the Tahitians. "When the house for the dead had been erected, and the corpse placed upon the platform or bier, the priest ordered a hole to be dug in the earth or floor near the foot of the platform. Over this he prayed to the god by whom it was supposed the spirit of the deceased had been required. The purport of his prayer was that all the dead man's sins, and especially that for which his soul had been called to the _po_, might be deposited there, that they might not attach in any degree to the survivors, and that the anger of the god might be appeased." All who were employed in embalming the dead were also, during the process, carefully avoided by every person, {53} as the guilt of the crime for which the deceased had died was believed to contaminate such as came in contact with the corpse; and as soon as the ceremony of depositing the sins in the hole was over, all who had touched the body or the garments of the deceased, which were buried or destroyed, fled precipitately into the sea to cleanse themselves from the pollution.[167] In one part of New Zealand "a service was performed over an individual, by which all the sins of the tribe were supposed to be transferred to him, a fern stalk was previously tied to his person, with which he jumped into the river and there unbinding, allowed it to float away to the sea, bearing their sins with it."[168] The Iroquois White Dog Feast, which was held every year in January, February, or early in March,[169] implied, according to most authorities, a ceremony of sin-transference.[170] The following description of it is given by Mrs. Jemison, a white woman who was captured by the Indians in the year 1755:--Two white dogs, without spot or blemish, are strangled and hung near the door of the council-house. On the fourth or fifth day the "committee," consisting of from ten to twenty active men who have been appointed to superintend the festivities, "collect the evil spirit, or drive it off entirely, for the present, and also concentrate within themselves all the sins of their tribe, however numerous or heinous. On the eighth or ninth day, the committee having received all the sin, as before observed, into their own bodies, they take down the dogs, and after having transfused the whole of it into one of their own number, he, by a peculiar sleight of hand, or kind of magic, works it all out of himself into the dogs. The dogs, thus loaded with all the sins of the people, are placed upon a pile of wood that is directly set on fire. Here they are burnt, together with the sins with which they were loaded."[171] Among the Badágas of India, at a burial, "an elder, standing by the corpse, offers up a prayer that the dead may not go to hell, that the sins committed on earth may be forgiven, and that the sins may be borne by a calf, which is let loose in the jungle and used thenceforth for no manner of work."[172] At Utch-Kurgan, in Turkestan, Mr. Schuyler saw an old man, constantly {54} engaged in prayer, who was said to be an _iskatchi_, that is, "a person who gets his living by taking on himself the sins of the dead, and thenceforth devoting his life to prayer for their souls."[173] [Footnote 167: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 401 _sqq._] [Footnote 168: Taylor, _Te Ika a Maui_, p. 101.] [Footnote 169: Beauchamp, 'Iroquois White Dog Feast,' in _American Antiquarian_, vii. 236 _sq._ Hale, 'Iroquois Sacrifice of the White Dog,' _ibid._ vii. 7.] [Footnote 170: Beauchamp, _loc. cit._ p. 237 _sq._] [Footnote 171: Seaver, _Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison_, p. 158 _sqq._ _Cf._ Mr. Clark's description, quoted by Beauchamp, _loc. cit._ p. 238.] [Footnote 172: Thurston, 'Badágas of the Nilgiris,' in the Madras Government Museum's _Bulletin_, ii. 4. _Cf._ Metz, _Tribes inhabiting the Neilgherry Hills_, p. 78; Graul, _Reise nach Ostindien_, iii. 296 _sqq._] [Footnote 173: Schuyler, _Turkistan_, ii. 28.] In ancient Peru, an Inca, after confession of guilt, bathed in a neighbouring river, and repeated this formula:--"O thou River, receive the sins I have this day confessed unto the Sun, carry them down to the sea, and let them never more appear."[174] According to Vedic beliefs, sin is a contamination which may be inherited, or contracted in various ways,[175] and of which the sinner tries to rid himself by transferring it to some enemy,[176] or by invoking the gods of water or fire.[177] It is washed out by Varuna, in his capacity of a water-god,[178] and by Trita, another water-god,[179] and even by "the Waters" in general, as appears from the prayer addressed to them:--"O Waters, carry off whatever sin is in me and untruth."[180] For a similar reason, as it seems, water became in the later, Brahmanic age, the "essence (sap) of immortality"[181] and the belief in its purifying power still survives in modern India. No sin is too heinous to be removed, no character too black to be washed clean, by the waters of Ganges.[182] At sacred places of pilgrimage on the banks of rivers, the Hindus perform special religious shavings for the purpose of purifying soul and body from pollution; and persons who have committed great crimes or are troubled by uneasy consciences, travel hundreds of miles to such holy places where "they may be released from every sin by first being relieved of every hair and then plunging into the sacred stream."[183] So, also, according to Hindu beliefs, contact with cows purifies, and, as in the Parsi ritual, the dung and urine of cows have the power of preventing or cleansing away not only material, but moral defilements.[184] In post-Homeric Greece, individuals and a whole people were cleansed from their sins by water or some other material means of purification.[185] Plutarch, after observing {55} that "there are other properties that have connection and communication, and that transfer themselves from one thing to another with incredible quickness and over immense distances," asks whether it is "more wonderful that Athens should have been smitten with a plague which started in Arabia, than that, when the Delphians and Sybarites became wicked, vengeance should have fallen on their descendants."[186] The Hebrews annually laid the sins of the people upon the head of a goat, and sent it away into the wilderness;[187] and they cleansed every impurity with consecrated water or the sprinkling of blood.[188] To this day, the Jews in Morocco, on their New-Year's day, go to the sea-shore, or to some spring, and remove their sins by throwing stones into the water. The words of the Psalmist, "wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin,"[189] were not altogether a figure of speech; nor is Christian baptism originally a mere symbol. Its result is forgiveness of sins;[190] by the water, as a medium of the Holy Ghost, "the stains of sin are washed away."[191] That sin is contagious has been expressly stated by Christian writers. Novatian says that "the one is defiled by the sin of the other, and the idolatry of the transgressor passes over to him who does not transgress."[192] [Footnote 174: Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, ii. 435.] [Footnote 175: _Atharva-Veda_, v. 30. 4; x. 3. 8; vii. 64. i. _sq._ _Cf._ Oldenberg, _Religion des Veda_, p. 290.] [Footnote 176: _Rig-Veda_, x. 36. 9; x. 37. 12.] [Footnote 177: _Ibid._ x. 164. 3. _Atharva-Veda_, vii. 64. 2. _Cf._ Kaegi, _Rig-Veda_, p. 157; Oldenberg, _op. cit._ pp. 291-298, 319 _sqq._] [Footnote 178: _Cf._ Hopkins, _Religions of India_ pp. 65 n. 1, 66.] [Footnote 179: _Atharva-Veda_, vi. 113. 1 _sqq._] [Footnote 180: _Rig-Veda_, i. 23. 22. Sin is also looked upon as a galling chain from the captivity of which release is besought (_ibid._ i. 24. 9, 13 _sq._; ii. 27. 16; ii. 28. 5; v. 85. 8; vi. 74. 3; &c.).] [Footnote 181: Hopkins, _op. cit._ p. 196.] [Footnote 182: Monier Williams, _Br[=a]hmanism and Hind[=u]uism_, p. 347.] [Footnote 183: _Ibid._ p. 375.] [Footnote 184: Barth, _Religions of India_, p. 264. _Laws of Manu_, iii. 206; v. 105, 121, 124; xi. 110, 203, 213.] [Footnote 185: Stengel, _Die griechischen Kultusaltertümer_, p. 138 _sqq._] [Footnote 186: Plutarch, _De sera numinis vindicta_, 14.] [Footnote 187: _Leviticus_, xvi.] [Footnote 188: _Numbers_, viii. 7; xix. 4-9, 13 _sqq._; xxxi. 23. _Leviticus_, xvi. 14 _sqq._] [Footnote 189: _Psalms_, li. 2.] [Footnote 190: Harnack, _op. cit._ ii. 140 _sqq._] [Footnote 191: _Catechism of the Council of Trent_, ii. 2. 10, p. 162.] [Footnote 192: Quoted by Harnack, _op. cit._ ii. 119.] In this materialistic conception of sin there is an obvious confusion between cause and effect, between the sin and its punishment. Sin is looked upon as a substance charged with injurious energy, which will sooner or later discharge itself to the discomfort or destruction of anybody who is infected with it. The sick Chinese says of his disease, "it is my sin," instead of saying, "it is the punishment of my sin."[193] Both in Hebrew and in the Vedic language the word for sin is used in a similar way.[194] "In the consciousness of the pious Israelite," Professor Schultz observes, "sin, guilt, and punishment, are ideas so directly connected that the words for them are interchangeable."[195] {56} The prophets frequently and emphatically declare that there is in sin itself a power which must destroy the sinner.[196] So, too, as M. Bergaigne points out, there is in the Vedic notion of sin, "la croyance à une sorte de vertu propre du péché, grâce à laquelle il produit de lui-même son effet nécessaire, à savoir le châtiment du pécheur."[197] Sins are thus treated like diseases, or the germs of diseases, of which patients likewise try to rid themselves by washing or burning, or which are described in the very language often applied to sins as fetters which hold them chained.[198] All kinds of evil are in this way materialised. The Shamanistic peoples of Siberia, says Georgi, "hold evil to be a self-existing substance which they call by an infinitude of particular names."[199] According to Moorish ideas, _l-bas_, or "misfortune," is a kind of infection, which may be contracted by contact and removed by water or fire; hence in all parts of Morocco water- and fire-ceremonies are performed annually, either on the _[(]âshur_-eve or at midsummer, _l-[(]an[s.]ara_, for the purpose of purifying men, animals, and fruit-trees.[200] And just as the Moors, on these {57} occasions, rid themselves of _l-bas_, so, in modern Greece, the women make a fire on Midsummer Eve, and jump over it, crying, "I leave my sins."[201] [Footnote 193: Edkins, _Religion in China_, p. 134.] [Footnote 194: Holzman, 'Sünde und Sühne in den Rigvedahymnen und den Psalmen,' in _Zeitschr. f. Völkerpsychologie_, xv. 9.] [Footnote 195: Schultz, _op. cit._ ii. 306. _Cf._ Curtiss, _Primitive Semitic Religion To-day_, p. 124 _sqq._] [Footnote 196: _Ibid._ ii. 308 _sq._] [Footnote 197: Bergaigne, _Religion védique_, iii. 163. _Cf._ _Rig-Veda_, x. 132. 5.] [Footnote 198: Oldenberg, _op. cit._ p. 288.] [Footnote 199: Georgi, _Russia_, iii. 257.] [Footnote 200: The various methods of transferring or expelling evil, which abundantly illustrate the materialistic notions held about it, have been treated by Dr. Frazer with unrivalled learning (_The Golden Bough_), iii. 1 _sqq._ I have little doubt that the fire- and water-ceremonies, once practised all over Europe on a certain day every year, belong to the same group of rites. "The best general explanation of these European fire-festivals," says Dr. Frazer (_ibid._ iii. 300), "seems to be the one given by Mannhardt, namely, that they are sun-charms or magical ceremonies intended to ensure a proper supply of sunshine for men, animals, and plants." But it should be noticed that in Europe, as in Morocco, a purificatory purpose is expressly ascribed to them by the very persons by whom they are practised (see Frazer, _op. cit._ iii. 238 _sqq._), that they alternate with lustration by water (see Grimm, _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. 588 _sqq._). On the other hand, in Dr. Frazer's exhaustive description of these ceremonies I fail to discover a single fact which would make Mannhardt's hypothesis at all probable. Dr. Frazer says (_op. cit._ iii. 301), "The custom of rolling a burning wheel down a hillside, which is often observed at these times, seems a very natural imitation of the sun's course in the sky." To me it appears as a method of distributing the purificatory energy over the fields or vineyards. Notice, for instance, the following statements:--In the Rhon Mountains, Bavaria, "a wheel wrapt in combustibles, was kindled and rolled down the hill; and the young people rushed about the fields with their burning torches and brooms. . . . In neighbouring villages of Hesse . . . it is thought that wherever the burning wheels roll, the fields will be safe from hail and storm" (_ibid._ iii. 243 _sq._). At Volkmarsen, in Hesse, "in some places tar-barrels or wheels wrapt in straw used to be set on fire, and then sent rolling down the hillside. In others the boys light torches and whisps of straw at the bonfires and rush about brandishing them in their hands" (_ibid._ iii. 254). In Münsterland, "boys with blazing bundles of straw run over the fields to make them fruitful" (_ibid._ iii. 255). Dr. Frazer says (_ibid._ iii. 301), "The custom of throwing blazing discs, shaped liked suns, into the air is probably also a piece of imitative magic." But why should it not, in conformity with other practices, be regarded as a means of purifying the air? According to old writers, the object of Midsummer fires was to disperse the aerial dragons (_ibid._ iii. 267). It would carry me too far from my subject to enter into further details. I have dealt with the matter in my article 'Midsummer Customs in Morocco.' in _Folk-Lore_, xvi. 27-47.] [Footnote 201: Grimm, _Teutonic Mythology_, ii. 623.] Closely connected with the primitive conception of sin, is that of a curse. In fact, the injurious energy attributed to a sinful act, is in many cases obviously due to the curse of a god. The curse is looked upon as a baneful substance, as a miasma which injures or destroys anybody to whom it cleaves. The curse of Moses was said to lie on mount Ebal, ready to descend with punishments whenever there was an occasion for it.[202] The Arabs, when being cursed, sometimes lay themselves down on the ground so that the curse, instead of hitting them, may fly over their bodies.[203] According to Teutonic notions, curses alight, settle, cling, they take flight, and turn home as birds to their nests.[204] It is the vulgar opinion in Ireland "that a curse once uttered must alight on something: it will float in the air seven years, and may descend any moment on the party it was aimed at; if his guardian angel but forsake him, it takes forthwith the shape of some misfortune, sickness or temptation, and strikes his devoted head."[205] We shall later on see that curses are communicated through material media. In some parts of Morocco, if a man is not powerful enough to avenge an infringement on his marriage-bed, he leaves seven tufts of hair on his head and goes to another tribe to ask for help. This is _l-[(]âr_, a conditional curse, which is first seated in the tufts, and {58} from there transferred to those whom he invokes. Similarly, a person under the vow of blood-revenge lets his hair grow until he has fulfilled his vow. The oath clings to his hair, and will fall upon his head if he violates it.[206] [Footnote 202: _Deuteronomy_, xi. 29.] [Footnote 203: Goldziher, _Abhandlungen zur arabischen Philologie_, i. 29. Wellhausen, _Reste arabischen Heidentums_, p. 139, n. 4.] [Footnote 204: Grimm, _op. cit._ iv. 1690.] [Footnote 205: _Ibid._ iii. 1227. Wood-Martin, _Traces of the Elder Faiths of Ireland_ ii, 57 _sq._] [Footnote 206: The same practice prevailed among the ancient Arabs (Wellhausen, _op. cit._ p. 122), and some other cases are recorded by Dr. Frazer (_op. cit._ i. 370 _sq._). I cannot accept Wellhausen's explanation (_op. cit._ p. 124) that the hair is allowed to grow for the purpose of being sacrificed when the vow is fulfilled.] Generally, a curse follows the course which is indicated by the curser. But it does not do so in every case, and it has a tendency to spread. In ancient India[207] and among the Arabs[208] and Hebrews,[209] there was a belief that a curse, especially if it was undeserved, might fall back on the head of him who uttered it. The same belief prevailed, or still prevails, among the Irish;[210] so, also, according to an English proverb, "curses, like chickens, come home to roost." According to Plato, the curse of a father or mother taints everything with which it comes in contact. Any one who is found guilty of assaulting a parent, shall be for ever banished from the city into the country, and shall abstain from the temples; and "if any freeman eat or drink, or have any other sort of intercourse with him, or only meeting him have voluntarily touched him, he shall not enter into any temple, nor into the agora, nor into the city, until he is purified; for he should consider that he has become tainted by a curse."[211] Plutarch asks whether Jupiter's priest was forbidden to swear for the reason that "the peril of perjury would reach in common to the whole commonwealth, if a wicked, godless, and forsworn person should have the charge and superintendence of the prayers, vows, and sacrifices made on behalf of the city."[212] The Romans believed that certain horrid imprecations had such power, that not only the object of them never escaped their influence, but that the person who used them also was sure {59} to be unhappy.[213] Among the Arinzes, an oath is reckoned a terrible thing:--"They do not suffer a person, who has been under the necessity of expurgating himself in so dreadful a manner, to remain among them: he is sent into exile."[214] According to Bedouin notions, a solemn oath should only be taken at a certain distance from the camp, "because the magical nature of the oath might prove pernicious to the general body of Arabs, were it to take place in their vicinity."[215] "To take an oath of any sort," says Burckhardt, "is always a matter of great concern among the Bedouins. It seems as if they attached to an oath consequences of a supernatural kind. . . . A Bedouin, even in defence of his own right, will seldom be persuaded to take a solemn oath before a kadhy, or before the tomb of a sheikh or saint, as they are sometimes required to do; and would rather forfeit a small sum than expose himself to the dreaded consequences of an oath."[216] Exactly the same holds good for the Moors. The conditional self-curse is supposed in some degree to pollute the swearer even though the condition referred to in the oath be only imaginary, in other words, though he do not perjure himself. This, I think, is the reason why, among the Berbers in the South of Morocco, persons who have been wrongly accused of a crime, sometimes entirely undress themselves in the sanctuary where they are going to swear. They believe that, if they do so, the saint will punish the accuser; and I conclude that at the bottom of this belief there is a vague idea that the absence of all clothes will prevent the oath from clinging to themselves. They say that it is bad not only to swear, but even to be present when an oath is taken by somebody else. And at Demnat, in the Great Atlas, I was told that when a person has made oath at a shrine, he avoids going back to his house the same way as he came, since otherwise, at least if he {60} has sworn false, his family as well as himself would have to suffer. [Footnote 207: _Atharva-Veda_, ii. 7. 5.] [Footnote 208: Goldziher, _Abhandlungen_, i. 38 _sq._] [Footnote 209: _Ecclesiasticus_, xxi. 27.] [Footnote 210: Wood-Martin, _op. cit._ ii. 57 _sq._] [Footnote 211: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 881.] [Footnote 212: Plutarch, _Questiones Romanae_, 44.] [Footnote 213: _Idem_, _Vita Cassi_, 16.] [Footnote 214: Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 54 _sq._] [Footnote 215: Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 73.] [Footnote 216: _Ibid._ p. 165.] If a curse is infectious, it is naturally liable to contaminate those who derive their origin from the infected individual. The house of Glaucus was utterly extirpated from Sparta, in accordance with the words of the oracle, "There is a nameless son of the Oath-god who has neither hands nor feet; he pursues swiftly, until, having seized, he destroys the whole race, and all the house."[217] So, too, the Erinyes visited the sins of the fathers even on the children and grandchildren;[218] and the Erinyes were originally only personifications of curses.[219] It is said in the Ecclesiasticus:--"A man that useth much swearing shall be filled with iniquity, and the plague shall never depart from his house. . . . If he swear in vain, he shall not be innocent, but his house shall be full of calamities."[220] Casalis remarks of the Basutos, that "the dreadful consequences that the curse of Noah has had for Ham and his descendants appear quite natural to these people."[221] The Dharkâr and Majhwâr in Mirzapur, believe that a person who forswears himself will lose his property and his children;[222] but as we do not know the contents of the oath, it is possible that the destruction of the latter is not ascribed to mere contagion, but is expressly imprecated on them by the swearer.[223] Among the Rejangs of Sumatra, {61} "any accident that happens to a man, who has been known to take a false oath, or to his children or grandchildren, is carefully recorded in memory, and attributed to this sole cause."[224] Among the Karens the following story is told:--"Anciently there was a man who had ten children, and he cursed one of his brethren, who had done him no injury; but the curse did the man no harm, and he did not die. Then the curse returned to the man who sent it, and all his ten children died."[225] The Moors are fond of cursing each other's father or mother, or grandfather, or grandfather's father, such a curse being understood to involve their descendants as well. The Rev. R. Taylor says of the Maoris, "To bid you go and cook your father would be a great curse, but to tell a person to go and cook his great-grandfather would be far worse, because it included every individual who has sprung from him."[226] [Footnote 217: Herodotus, vi. 86. _Cf._ Hesiod, _Opera et dies_, 282 _sqq._] [Footnote 218: Aeschylus, _Eumenides_, 934 _sqq._] [Footnote 219: Aeschylus (_Eumenides_, 416 _sq._) expressly designates the Erinyes by the title of "curses" ([Greek: a)rai\]), and Pausanias derives the name Erinys from an Arcadian word signifying a fit of anger. _Cf._ von Lasaulx, 'Der fluch bei Griechen und Römern,' in _Verzeichnis der Vorlesungen an der Julius-Maximilians-Universitaet zu Würzburg im Sommer-Semester_ 1843, p. 8; Müller, _Dissertations on the Eumenides of Aeschylus_, p. 155 _sqq._; Rohde, 'Paralipomena,' in _Rheinisches Museum für Philologie_, 1895, p. 16 _sq._] [Footnote 220: _Ecclesiasticus_, xxiii. 11. _Cf._ _ibid._ xli. 5 _sqq._; _Wisdom of Solomon_, iii. 12 _sq._, xii. 11.] [Footnote 221: Casalis, _Basutos_, p. 305.] [Footnote 222: Crooke, _Tribes and Castes of the North-Western Provinces and Oudh_, ii. 287; iii. 444. _Cf._ _ibid._ i. 132.] [Footnote 223: Among these tribes it is usual to swear by "putting a bamboo on the head," or "touching a broad-sword, touching the feet of a Brâhman, holding a cow's tail, touching Ganges water." But among many of the other tribes described by Mr. Crooke, persons swear on the heads of their children (_ibid._ i. 11, 130, 172; ii. 96, 138, 339, 357; iii. 40, 113, 251, 262; iv. 35), or with a son or grandson in the arms (_ibid._ ii. 428), and in such cases the death of the child would naturally be expected to follow perjury as a direct result of it. Among the Kol, the usual form of an oath is, "May my children die if I lie" (_ibid._ iii. 313).] [Footnote 224: Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 240.] [Footnote 225: Mason, in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxxvii. pt. ii. 137.] [Footnote 226: Taylor, _Te Ika a Maui_, p. 208.] Thus, from the conception that sins and curses are contagious it follows that an innocent person may have to suffer for the sin of another. His suffering does not necessarily relieve the sinner from punishment; sin, like an infectious disease, may spread without vacating the seat of infection. But, as we have seen, it may also be transferred, and sin-transference involves vicarious suffering. At the same time, this kind of vicarious suffering must not be confounded with vicarious expiatory sacrifice. As a general rule, the scapegoat is driven or cast away, not killed. The exceptions to this rule seem to be due to two different causes. On the one hand, the scapegoat may be chased to death, or perhaps be pushed over a precipice,[227] for the sake of ridding the community as {62} effectively as possible of the evils loaded on the victim. Thus the Bhotiyás of Juhár take a dog, make him drunk, "and having fed him with sweetmeats, lead him round the village and let him loose. They then chase and kill him with sticks and stones, and believe that by so doing no disease or misfortune will visit the village during the year."[228] On the other hand, the transference of evil may be combined with a sacrifice. But of such a combination only a few instances are recorded, and most of them are ambiguous. Considering further that in these cases, or at least in the best known of them, the act of transference takes place _after_ the victim has been killed, it seems to me extremely probable that we have here to do with a fusion of two distinct rites into one, and that the victim is not offered up as a sacrifice in its capacity of a scapegoat, but, once sacrificed, has been made use of as a conductor for all the evils with which the people are beset. [Footnote 227: According to the Mishna, the Hebrew scapegoat was not allowed to go free in the wilderness, but was killed by being pushed over a precipice (Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 418). See also the ambiguous passage in Servius, _In Virgilii Aeneidos_, iii. 57.] [Footnote 228: Atkinson, 'Notes on the History of Religion in the Himálaya of the N.W. Provinces,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, liii. pt. i. 62.] In his list of scapegoats, Dr. Frazer refers to a case of human sacrifice witnessed by the Rev. J. C. Taylor at Onitsha, on the Niger.[229] A young woman was drawn, with her face to the earth, from the king's house to the river. As the people drew her along, they cried, "Wickedness! Wickedness!" so as to notify to the passers-by to screen themselves from witnessing the dismal scene. The sacrifice was to take away the iniquities of the land. The body was dragged along in a merciless manner "as if the weight of all their wickedness were thus carried away"; and it was finally drowned in the river. Our informant also heard that there was a man killed, as a sacrifice for the sins of the king. "Thus two human beings were offered as sacrifices, to propitiate their heathen deities, thinking that they would thus atone for the individual sins of those who had broken God's laws during the past year. . . . Those who had fallen into gross sins during the past year--such as incendiarisms, thefts, fornications, adulteries, witchcrafts, incests, slanders, &c.--were expected to pay in twenty-eight _ngugus_, or _£_2 0_s._ 7½_d._, as a fine; and this money was taken into the interior, to purchase two sickly persons, to be {63} offered as a sacrifice for all these abominable crimes--one for the land, and one for the river."[230] As will be seen in a following chapter, human sacrifices to rivers are very common in the Niger country. In the cases mentioned by the English missionary, the idea of vicarious expiation is obvious. But I find no evidence of actual sin-transference. [Footnote 229: Frazer, _op. cit._ iii. 109 _sq._] [Footnote 230: Crowther and Taylor, _Gospel on the Banks of the Niger_, p. 344 _sq._] Dr. Frazer further mentions a custom which, according to Strabo, prevailed among the Albanians of the Eastern Caucasus.[231] In the temple of the Moon they kept a number of sacred slaves, of whom many were inspired and prophesied. When one of these men exhibited more than usual symptoms of inspiration or insanity, the high priest had him bound with a sacred chain and maintained him in luxury for a year. At the end of the year he was anointed with unguents and led forth to be sacrificed. A man thrust a sacred spear into his side, piercing his heart. From the manner in which the victim fell, omens were drawn as to the welfare of the commonwealth. Then the body was carried to a certain spot where all the people stood upon it as a purificatory ceremony.[232] Dr. Frazer maintains that "the last circumstance clearly indicates that the sins of the people were transferred to the victim, just as the Jewish priest transferred the sins of the people to the scapegoat by laying his hand on the animal's head."[233] So it may be, although, in my opinion, the purificatory ceremony described by Strabo also allows of another interpretation. The victim was evidently held to be saturated with magic energy; this is commonly the case with men, or animals, or even inanimate things, that are offered in sacrifice, and in the present instance the man was regarded as holy already, long before he was slain. To stand on the corpse, then, might have been regarded as purifying in consequence of the benign virtue inherent in it, just as, according to Muhammedan notions, contact with a saint cures disease, not by transferring it to the saint, but by annihilating it or expelling it from the body of the patient. But whether the ceremony in question involved the idea of sin-transference or not, there is no indication that the sacrifice of the slave was of an expiatory character. The same may be said both of the Egyptian sacrifice of a bull, mentioned by Herodotus, and of the white dog sacrifice performed by the Iroquois. The Egyptians first invoked the god and slew the bull. They then cut off his head and flayed the body. Next {64} they took the head, and heaped imprecations on it, praying that, if any evil was impending either over those who sacrificed or over the land of Egypt, it might be made to fall upon that head. And finally, they either sold the head to Greek traders or threw it into the river[234]--which shows that the real scapegoat, the head, was not regarded as a sacrifice to the god. Among the Iroquois, also, the victims were slain before the sins of the people were transferred to them. According to Hale's and Morgan's accounts of this rite, which have reference to different tribes of the Iroquois, no mention of sin-transference is made in the hymn which accompanied the sacrifice.[235] Only blessings were invoked. This was the beginning of the chant:--"Now we are about to offer this victim adorned for the sacrifice, in hope that the act will be pleasing and acceptable to the All-Ruler, and that he will so adorn his children, the red men, with his blessings, when they appear before him."[236] Mr. Morgan even denies that the burning of the dog had the slightest connection with the sins of the people, and states that "in the religious system of the Iroquois, there is no recognition of the doctrine of atonement for sin, or of the absolution or forgiveness of sins."[237] [Footnote 231: Frazer, _op. cit._ iii. 112 _sq._] [Footnote 232: Strabo, xi. 4. 7.] [Footnote 233: Frazer, _op. cit._ iii. 113.] [Footnote 234: Herodotus, ii. 39.] [Footnote 235: Hale, in _American Antiquarian_, vii. 10 _sqq._ Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 217 _sq._] [Footnote 236: Hale, _loc. cit._ p. 10.] [Footnote 237: Morgan, _op. cit._ p. 216.] I think we can see the reason why, in some cases, a sacrificial victim is used as scapegoat. The transference of sins or evils is not looked upon as a mere "natural" process, it can hardly be accomplished without the aid of mysterious, magic energy. Among the Berbers of Ait Zel[t.]n, in Southern Morocco, sick people used to visit a miracle-working wild olive-tree, growing in the immediate vicinity of the supposed grave of Sîdi Butlîla. They there relieve themselves of their complaints by tying a woollen string to one of its branches; in case of headache the patient previously winds the string three times round the top of his head, whilst, in case of fever, he spits on the string, and, when tying it to the tree, says, "I left my fever in thee, O wild olive-tree." He believes that he may thus transfer his disease to this tree because there is _baraka_, "benign virtue," in it; he would not expect to be cured {65} by tying the string to any ordinary tree. This illustrates a principle of probably world-wide application. In Morocco, and, I presume, in other countries where disease-transference is believed in, rags tied to a tree are a sure indication that the tree is regarded as holy. Similarly I venture to believe that the transference of sins and evils to a scapegoat is generally supposed to require magic aid of some kind or other. Among the Hebrews, it took place on the Day of Atonement only, and the act was performed by the high-priest.[238] Among the Iroquois, it was by "a kind of magic" that the sins of the people were worked into the white dogs;[239] and that the animals themselves were held to be charged with supernatural energy, appears from the fact that, according to one account, the ashes of the pyre on which one of them was burnt were "gathered up, carried through the village, and sprinkled at the door of every house."[240] Considering, then, that sacrificial victims, owing to their close contact with the deities to whom they are offered, are held more or less sacred, the idea of employing them as scapegoats is certainly near at hand. But this does not make the sacrifice expiatory. In fact, I know of no instance of an expiatory sacrifice being connected with a ceremony of sin-transference. Hence the materialistic conception of sin hardly helps to explain the belief that the sins of a person may be atoned by another person being offered as a sacrifice to the offended god. [Footnote 238: _Leviticus_, xvi. 21.] [Footnote 239: Seaver, _op. cit._ p. 160.] [Footnote 240: Beauchamp, _loc. cit._ p. 239.] A sacrifice is expiatory if its object is to avert the supposed anger or indignation of a superhuman being from those on whose behalf it is offered. In various cases the offended god is thought to be appeased only by the death of a man. But it is not always necessary that the victim should be the actual offender. The death of a substitute may expiate his guilt. The expiatory sacrifice may be vicarious. We shall see, in a subsequent chapter, that, as a general {66} rule, human victims are sacrificed for the purpose of saving the lives of the sacrificers: before the beginning of a battle or during a siege, previously to a dangerous sea-expedition, during epidemics, famines, or on other similar occasions, when murderous designs are attributed to some superhuman being on whose will the lives of men are supposed to depend. But these sacrifices are not always expiatory in nature. A god may desire to cause the death of men not only because he is offended, but because he delights in human flesh, or because he wants human attendants, or--no one knows exactly why. It is impossible to find out in each particular case whether the sacrifice is meant to be an expiation or not; it is not certain that the sacrificers know it themselves. Yet in many instances there can be no doubt that its object is to serve as a vicarious atonement. In Eastern Central Africa, "if a freeman were to set fire to the grass or reeds beside a lake, and cause a great conflagration close to the chosen abode of the deity, he is liable to be offered up to the god that is thus annoyed," but if he be the owner of many slaves he can easily redeem himself by offering one of them in his place.[241] The Ojibways, it is said, were once visited with an epidemic, which they regarded as a divine punishment sent them on account of their wickedness; and when all other efforts failed, "it was decided that the most beautiful girl of the tribe should enter a canoe, push into the channel just above the Sault, and throw away her paddle."[242] In B[oe]otia, a drunken man having killed a priest of Dionysus Aegobolus, and a pestilence having broken out immediately after, the calamity was regarded as a judgment on the people for the sacrilege, and the oracle of Delphi ordered them to expiate it by sacrificing to the god a blooming boy.[243] In his work on the Jews, Philo of Byblus states that "it was the custom among the ancients in cases of great dangers, that the rulers of a city or a nation, in order to avert universal destruction, should give the dearest of their children to be killed as a ransom offered to avenging demons."[244] The idea that sins could be expiated by the death of one who {67} had not deserved it, was familiar to the Hebrews. It was said that "the death of the righteous makes atonement."[245] The passage in Isaiah liii. 12 was interpreted of Moses, who "poured out his soul unto death[246] and was numbered with the transgressors (the generation that died in the wilderness) and bare the sin of many "that he might atone for the sin of the golden calf.[247] Ezekiel suffered "that he might wipe out the transgressions of Israel."[248] And of the Maccabaean martyrs it is said, "Having become as it were a vicarious expiation for the sins of the nation, and through the blood of those godly men and their atoning death, divine providence saved Israel which had before been evil entreated."[249] In these cases, of course, there was no sacrifice in the proper sense of the term, but they obviously illustrate the same characteristic of the divine mind. In fact, the death of Christ, by which he atoned and obliterated the sins of all ages, was conceived as a sacrifice, or spoken of in sacrificial figures.[250] [Footnote 241: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 96 _sq._] [Footnote 242: Dorman, _Origin of Primitive Superstitions_, p. 208.] [Footnote 243: Pausanias, ix. 8. 2.] [Footnote 244: Eusebius, _Praeparatio Evangelica_, i. 10. 40 (Migne, _Patrologia_, Ser. Gr. xxi. 85).] [Footnote 245: Moore, in Cheyne and Black, _Encyclopaedia Biblica_, iv. 4226.] [Footnote 246: _Exodus_, xxxii. 32.] [Footnote 247: _S[=o][t.][=a]h_, 14 A, quoted by Moore, _loc. cit._ col. 4226.] [Footnote 248: _Sanhedrin_, 39 A, quoted _ibid._ col. 4226.] [Footnote 249: _4 Maccabaeans_, xvii. 22, quoted _ibid._ col. 4232.] [Footnote 250: See Moore, _loc. cit._ col. 4229 _sqq._] It is said that, according to early ideas, "it did not essentially concern divine justice that the punishment of faults committed should fall precisely on the guilty; what did concern it was that it should fall on some one, that it should have its accomplishment."[251] Men, we are told, could not fail to discern that a transgression produces suffering as its consequence, and, seeing this, they "associate suffering with the expiation of sin, and, in atoning for their transgressions, they mark their contrition by the suffering which they inflict vicariously on the victim. They argue thus: 'I have broken a law of God. God exacts pain as a consequence of such a breach. I will therefore slay this lamb, and its sufferings shall make the atonement requisite.'"[252] But, so far as I can see, this interpretation of the idea of vicarious expiation is not supported by facts. The victim whose suffering or death is calculated to appease the wrathful god is not anybody {68} at random, whosoever he may be. He is a representative of the community which has incurred the anger of the god, and is accepted as a substitute on the principle of social solidarity. So, also, according to the Western Church, Christ discharged the punishment due to the sins of mankind and propitiated the justice of his Father, in his capacity of a man, as a representative of the human race; whereas in the East, where it was maintained that the _deity_ suffered (though he suffered through the human nature which he had made his own), the idea of substitution could hardly take root, since, as Harnack remarks, "the dying _God_-man really represented no one."[253] The Greek Church regarded the death of Christ as a ransom for mankind paid to the devil, and this doctrine was also accepted by the most important of the Western Fathers, although it flatly contradicted their own theory of atonement.[254] There can be no doubt that expiatory sacrifices are frequently offered as ransoms, in other words, that the god or demon is supposed to be appeased, not by the suffering of the victim, but by the gift. Among men it often occurs that the offended party is induced by some material compensation to desist from avenging the injury--in many societies such placability is even prescribed by custom,--and something similar is naturally believed to be the case with gods. From this point of view, of course, it is not necessary that the victim should be a person who is connected with the offender by ties of social solidarity, although he may still be regarded as in a way a substitute. He may be an alien or a slave; or animals or inanimate things may be offered to expiate the sins of men. Among the Dacotahs, "for the expiation of sins or crimes a sacrifice is made of some kind of an animal."[255] Of the Melanesian sacrifices, says Dr. Codrington, "some are propitiatory, substituting an animal for the person who has offended."[256] The Shánárs of Tinnevelly offer up a {69} goat, a sheep, or a fowl, in order "to appease the angry demon, and induce him to remove the evil he has inflicted, or abstain from the infliction he may meditate."[257] It would be almost absurd to suppose that in similar cases the suffering or death of the animal is looked upon in the light of a vicarious _punishment_. Of the Hebrew sin-offering, Professor Kuenen aptly remarks:--[258]"According to the Israelite's notion, Yahveh in his clemency permits the soul of the animal sacrificed to take the place of that of the sacrificer. No transfer of guilt to the animal sacrificed takes place: the blood of the latter is clean and remains so, as is evident from the very fact that this blood is put upon the altar; it is a token of mercy on Yahveh's part that he accepts it. . . . Nor can it be asserted that the animal sacrificed undergoes the punishment in the place of the transgressor: this is said nowhere, and therefore, in any case, gives another, more sharply defined idea than that which the Israelite must have formed for himself; moreover, it is irreconcilable with the rule that the indigent may bring the tenth part of an ephah of fine flour as a sin-offering."[259] It should also be noticed that a purifying effect was ascribed to contact with the victim's blood: the high priest should put or sprinkle some blood upon the altar "and cleanse it, and hallow it from the uncleanness of the children of Israel."[260] [Footnote 251: Réville, _Prolegomena of the History of Religions_, p. 135.] [Footnote 252: Baring-Gould, _Origin and Development of Religious Belief_, i. 387 _sq._] [Footnote 253: Harnack, _op. cit._ iii. 312 _sqq._] [Footnote 254: _Ibid._ iii. 307, 315 n. 2.] [Footnote 255: Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, ii. 196.] [Footnote 256: Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 127.] [Footnote 257: Percival, _Land of the Veda_, p. 309 _sq._ _Cf._ Caldwell, _Tinnevelly Shánárs_, p. 37.] [Footnote 258: Kuenen, _Religion of Israel_, ii. 266 _sq._] [Footnote 259: _Leviticus_, v. 11 _sqq._] [Footnote 260: _Ibid._ xvi. 18 _sq._] To sum up:--The fact that punishments for offences are frequently inflicted, or are supposed to be inflicted, by men or gods upon individuals who have not committed those offences, is explicable from circumstances which in no way clash with our thesis that moral indignation is, in its essence, directed towards the assumed cause of inflicted pain. In many cases the victim, in accordance with the doctrine of collective responsibility, is punished because he is considered to be involved in the guilt--even when he is really innocent--or because he is regarded as a fair {70} representative of an offending community. In other cases, he is supposed to be polluted by a sin or a curse, owing to the contagious nature of sins and curses. The principle of social solidarity also accounts for the efficacy ascribed to vicarious expiatory sacrifices; but in many instances expiatory sacrifices only have the character of a ransom or bribe. And whilst thus our thesis as to the true direction of moral indignation is not in the least invalidated by facts, apparently, but only apparently, contradictory, it is, on the other hand, strongly supported by the protest which the moral consciousness, when sufficiently guided by discrimination and sympathy, enters against the infliction of penal suffering upon the guiltless. Such a protest is heard from various quarters, both with reference to human justice and with reference to the resentment of gods. Confucius taught that the vices of a father should not discredit a virtuous son.[261] Plato lays down the rule that "the disgrace and punishment of the father is not to be visited on the children"; on the contrary, he says, if the children of a criminal who has been punished capitally avoid the wrongs of their father, they shall have glory, and honourable mention shall be made of them, "as having nobly and manfully escaped out of evil into good."[262] According to Roman law, "crimen vel poena paterna nullam maculam filio infligere potest."[263] "Nothing," says Seneca, "is more unjust than that any one should inherit the quarrels of his father."[264] The Deuteronomist enjoins, "The fathers shall not be put to death for the children, neither shall the children be put to death for the fathers: every man shall be put to death for his own {71} sin."[265] Lawgivers have been anxious to restrict the blood-feud to the actual culprit. The Koran forbids the avenger of blood to kill any other person than the manslayer himself.[266] In England, according to a law of Edmund, the feud was not to be prosecuted against the kindred of the slayer, unless they made his misdeed their own by harbouring him.[267] So, also, in Sweden, in the thirteenth century, the blood feud was limited by law to the guilty individual;[268] and we meet with a similar restriction in Slavonic law-books.[269] [Footnote 261: _Lun Yü_, vi. 4. _Cf._ _Thâi-Shang_ 4.] [Footnote 262: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 854 _sqq._ Plato makes an exception for those whose fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers have successively undergone the penalty of death: "Such persons the city shall send away with all their possessions to the city and country of their ancestors, retaining only and wholly their appointed lot" (_ibid._ ix. 856). But this enactment had no doubt a purely utilitarian foundation, the offspring of a thoroughly wicked family being considered a danger to the city.] [Footnote 263: _Digesta_, xlviii. 19. 26. _Cf._ _ibid._ xlviii. 19. 20.] [Footnote 264: Seneca, _De ira_, ii. 34. _Cf._ Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 25.] [Footnote 265: _Deuteronomy_, xxiv. 16. _Cf._ _2 Kings_ xiv. 6.] [Footnote 266: _Koran_, xvii. 35.] [Footnote 267: _Laws of Edmund_, ii. 1.] [Footnote 268: Nordström, _Bidrag till den svenska samhälls-författningens historia_, ii. 103, 334, 335, 399. Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 174.] [Footnote 269: Kovalewsky, _Coutume contemporaine_, p. 248. In Montenegro it was enjoined by Daniel I. (Post, _Anfänge des Staats- und Rechtsleben_, p. 181).] Passing to the vengeance of gods: according to the Atharva-Veda, Agni, who forgives sin committed through folly and averts Varuna's wrath, also frees from the consequence of a sin committed by a man's father or mother.[270] Theognis asks, "How, O king of immortals, is it just that whoso is aloof from unrighteous deeds, holding no transgression, nor sinful oath, but being righteous, should suffer what is not just?"[271] According to Bion, the deity, in punishing the children of the wicked for their fathers' crimes, is more ridiculous than a doctor administering a potion to a son or grandson for a father's or grandfather's disease.[272] The early Greek notion of an inherited curse was modified into the belief that the curse works through generations because the descendants each commit new acts of guilt.[273] The persons who prohibited the sons of such as had been proscribed by Sylla, from standing candidates for their fathers' honours, and from being admitted into the senate, were supposed to have been punished by the gods for this injustice:--"In process of time," says Dionysius of Halicarnassus, "a blameless punishment, the avenger of their crimes, pursued {72} them, by which they themselves were brought down from the greatest height of glory, to the lowest degree of obscurity; and none, even, of their race are now left, but women."[274] Among the Hebrews, Jeremiah and Ezekiel broke with the old notion of divine vengeance. The law of individual responsibility, which had already previously been laid down as a principle of human justice, was to be extended to the sphere of religion.[275] "Every one shall die for his own iniquity: every man that eateth the sour grape, his teeth shall be set on edge."[276] "The soul that sinneth, it shall die. The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son: the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him."[277] [Footnote 270: _Atharva-Veda_, v. 30. 4. _Cf._ Macdonell, _Vedic Mythology_, p. 98.] [Footnote 271: Theognis, 743 _sqq._] [Footnote 272: Plutarch, _De sera numinis vindicta_ 19. _Cf._ _ibid._ 12; Cicero, _De natura Deorum_, iii. 38.] [Footnote 273: Farnell, _op. cit._ i. 77. Maine, _Ancient Law_, p. 127.] [Footnote 274: Dionysius of Halicarnassus, _op. cit._ viii. 80.] [Footnote 275: _Cf._ Montefiore, _op. cit._ p. 220; Kuenen, _op. cit._ ii. 35 _sq._] [Footnote 276: _Jeremiah_, xxxi. 30.] [Footnote 277: _Ezekiel_, xviii. 20. For Talmudic views, see Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 52.] CHAPTER III THE NATURE OF THE MORAL EMOTIONS (_continued_) IT was said in the last chapter that moral disapproval is a sub-species of resentment, and that resentment is, in its essence, an aggressive attitude of mind towards an assumed cause of pain. It was shown that, in the course of mental evolution, the true direction of the hostile reaction involved in moral disapproval has become more apparent. We shall now see that, at the same time, its aggressive character has become more disguised. This is evidenced by the changed opinion about anger and revenge which we meet at the higher stages of moral development. Retaliation is condemned, and forgiveness of injuries is laid down as a duty. The rule that a person should be forbearing and kind to his enemy has no place in early ethics. "Let those that speak evil of us perish. Let the enemy be clubbed, swept away, utterly destroyed, piled in heaps. Let their teeth be broken. May they fall headlong into a pit. Let us live, and let our enemies perish." Such were the requests which generally concluded the prayers of the Fijians.[1] A savage would find nothing objectionable in them. On the contrary, he regards revenge as a duty,[2] and forgiveness of enemies as a sign of weakness, or cowardice, or want of honour.[3] Nor {74} is this opinion restricted to the savage world. In the Old Testament the spirit of vindictiveness pervades both the men and their god. The last thing with which David on his death-bed charged Solomon was to destroy an enemy whom he himself had spared.[4] Sirach counts among the nine causes of a man's happiness to see the fall of his enemy.[5] The enemies of Yahveh can expect no mercy from him, but utter destruction is their lot.[6] To do good to a friend and to do harm to an enemy was a maxim of the ancient Scandinavians.[7] It was taken for a matter of course by popular opinion in Greece[8] and Rome. According to Aristotle, "it belongs to the courageous man never to be worsted"; to take revenge on a foe rather than to be reconciled is just, and therefore honourable.[9] Cicero defines a good man as a person "who serves whom he can, and injures none except when provoked by injury."[10] Except in domestic life and in the case of friends, Professor Seeley observes, "people not only did not forgive their enemies, but did not wish to do so, nor think better of themselves for having done so. That man considered himself fortunate who on his deathbed could say, in reviewing his past life, that no one had done more good to his friends or more mischief to his enemies. This was the celebrated felicity of Sulla; this the crown of Xenophon's panegyric on Cyrus the Younger."[11] [Footnote 1: Fison, quoted by Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 147, n. 1.] [Footnote 2: See _infra_, on Blood-revenge.] [Footnote 3: _Cf._ Domenech, _Great Deserts of North America_, ii. 97, 338, 438 (Dacotahs); Boas, _first General Report on the Indians of British Columbia_, p. 38; Baker, _Albert N'yanza_ i. 240 _sq._ (Latukas).] [Footnote 4: _1 Kings_, ii. 8 _sq._] [Footnote 5: _Ecclesiasticus_, xxv. 7.] [Footnote 6: _Cf._ Montefiore, Hibbert Lectures, p. 40.] [Footnote 7: Maurer, _Bekehrung des Norwegischen Stammes_, ii. 154 _sq._] [Footnote 8: Maury, _Histoire des religions de la Grèce antique_, i. 383. Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 309 _sqq._] [Footnote 9: Aristotle, _Rhetorica_, i. 9. 24. _Cf._ Aeschylus, _Choeophori_, 309 _sqq._; Plato, _Meno_, p. 71; Xenophon, _Memorabilia_, ii. 6. 35.] [Footnote 10: Cicero, _De officiis_, iii. 19. iii. 19. _Cf._ _ibid._ ii. 14; but _cf._ also _ibid._ i. 25, where it is said that nothing is more worthy of a great and a good man than placability and moderation.] [Footnote 11: Seeley, _Ecce Homo_, p. 273.] But side by side with the doctrine of resentment, we meet, among peoples of culture, the doctrine of forgiveness. "Recompense injury with kindness," says Lao-Tsze.[12] According to Mencius, "a benevolent man does not lay up anger, nor cherish resentment against his brother, but only regards him with affection and love."[13] In the laws of Manu the following rule is laid down for the twice-born man:--"Against an angry man let him not in return show anger, let him bless {75} when he is cursed."[14] It is said in the Buddhistic Dhammapada: "Hatred does not cease by hatred at any time; hatred ceases by love, this is an old rule . . . . Among men who hate us we dwell free from hatred. . . . Let a man overcome anger by love, let him overcome evil by good; let him overcome the greedy by liberality, the liar by truth."[15] According to one of the Pahlavi texts, we ought not to indulge in wrathfulness; wrath is one of the fiends besetting man, and "goodness is little in the mind of a man of wrath."[16] [Footnote 12: _Tâo Teh King_, ii. 63. 1. According to _Thâi-Shang_, 4, a bad man "broods over resentment without ceasing."] [Footnote 13: Mencius, v. 1. 3. 2.] [Footnote 14: _Laws of Manu_, vi. 48. _Cf._ _ibid._ viii. 313; Monier-Williams, _Indian Wisdom_, pp. 444, 446; Muir, _Additional Moral and Religious Passages, rendered from the Sanskrit_, p. 30.] [Footnote 15: _Dhammapada_, i. 5; xv. 197; xvii. 223. _Cf._ _J[=a]taka Tales_, i. 22; Oldenberg, _Buddha_, p. 298.] [Footnote 16: _Dînâ-î-Maînôg-î Khirad_, ii. 16; xli. 11; xxxix. 26.] In Leviticus hatred is condemned:--"Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thine heart. . . . Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people."[17] Sirach, whom I have already quoted, says in another passage, "Forgive thy neighbour the hurt that he has done unto thee, so shall thy sins also be forgiven when thou prayest."[18] According to the Talmud, "whosoever does not persecute them that persecute him, whosoever takes an offence in silence, he who does good because of love, he who is cheerful under his sufferings they are the friends of God, and of them the Scripture says, And they shall shine forth as does the sun at noon-day."[19] The Koran, whilst repeating the old rule, "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,"[20] at the same time teaches that Paradise is "for those who repress their rage, and those who pardon men; God loves the kind."[21] Muhammedan tradition puts the following words in the mouth of the Prophet:--"Say not, if people do good to us, we will do good to them, and if people oppress us, we will oppress them: but resolve that if people do good to you, you will do good to them, and if they oppress you, oppress them not again."[22] Professor Goldziher emphasises Muhammed's opposition to the traditional rule of the Arabs that an enemy is a proper object of hatred;[23] and Syed Ameer Ali has collected various passages from the writings of Muhammedan scholars, which prove that, {76} in spite of what has often been said to the contrary, forgiveness of injuries is by no means foreign to the spirit of Islam.[24] Thus the author of the Kashshâf prescribes, "Seek again him who drives you away; give to him who takes away from you; pardon him who injures you: for God loveth that you should cast into the depth of your souls the roots of His perfections."[25] That "the sandal-tree perfumes the axe that fells it," is a saying in everyday use among the Muhammedans of India.[26] And Lane often heard Egyptians forgivingly say, on receiving a blow from an equal, "God bless thee," "God requite thee good," "Beat me again."[27] [Footnote 17: _Leviticus_, xix. 17 _sq._ _Cf._ _Exodus_, xxiii. 4.] [Footnote 18: _Ecclesiasticus_, xxviii. 2. _Cf._ _ibid._ x, 6; _Proverbs_, xxv. 21.] [Footnote 19: Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 58. _Cf._ Katz, _Der wahre Talmudjude_, p. 11, _sq._] [Footnote 20: _Koran_, ii. 190: "Whoso transgresses against you, transgress against him like as he transgressed against you."] [Footnote 21: _Ibid._ iii. 125. _Cf._ _ibid._ xxiii. 98; xxiv. 22; xli. 34.] [Footnote 22: Lane-Poole, _Speeches and Table-Talk of Mohammad_, p. 147.] [Footnote 23: Goldziher, _Mohammedanische Studien_, i. 15 _sq._] [Footnote 24: Ameer Ali, _Ethics of Islam_, p. 26 _sqq._] [Footnote 25: _Ibid._ p. 7. _Idem_, _Life and Teachings of Mohammed_, p. 280.] [Footnote 26: Poole, _Studies in Mohammedanism_, p. 226.] [Footnote 27: Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, p. 314 _sq._] The principles of forgiveness had also advocates in Greece and Rome. In one of the Platonic dialogues, Socrates says, "We ought not to retaliate or render evil for evil to any one, whatever evil we may have suffered from him"; though he wisely adds that "this opinion has never been held, and never will be held, by any considerable number of persons."[28] The Stoics strongly condemned anger as unnatural and unreasonable. "Mankind is born for mutual assistance, anger for mutual ruin."[29] "Anger is a crime of the mind; . . . it often is even more criminal than the faults with which it is angry."[30] He is the best and purest "who pardons others as if he sinned himself daily, but avoids sinning as if he never pardoned."[31] "If any one is angry with you, meet his anger by returning benefits for it."[32] "The cynic loves those who beat him."[33] [Footnote 28: Plato, _Crito_, p. 49.] [Footnote 29: Seneca, _De ira_, i. 5.] [Footnote 30: _Ibid._ i. 16; ii. 6.] [Footnote 31: Pliny, _Epistolæ_, ix. 22 (viii. 22).] [Footnote 32: Seneca, _op. cit._ ii. 34.] [Footnote 33: Epictetus, _Dissertationes_, iii. 22, 54.] Forgiveness of enemies is thus by no means an exclusively Christian tenet, although it has never before or after been inculcated with the same emphasis as it was by Jesus. "Love your enemies; bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you."[34] When St. Peter asked, "Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times?" Jesus replied, "I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven,"[35]--that is, as often as he repeats the offence. It would seem that Jesus by these sentences expressly forbade men to avenge themselves, or even {77} to feel resentment on their own behalf; and so also he was understood by St. Paul.[36] [Footnote 34: _St. Matthew_, v. 44. _Cf._ _ibid._ v. 39 _sq._; vi. 14 _sq._; _St. Luke_, vi. 27 _sqq._; xvii. 3 _sq._; _St. Mark_, xi. 25 _sq._] [Footnote 35: _St. Matthew_, xviii. 21 _sq._] [Footnote 36: _Romans_, xii. 19 _sqq._; _1 Thessalonians_, v. 14 _sq._; _Colossians_, iii. 12 _sq._] The rule of retaliation and the rule of forgiveness, however, are not so radically opposed to each other as they appear to be. What the latter condemns is, in reality, not every kind of resentment, but non-moral resentment; not impartial indignation, but personal hatred. It prohibits revenge, but not punishment. According to the Laws of Manu, crime was so indispensably to be followed by punishment, that if the king pardoned a thief or a perpetrator of violence, instead of slaying or striking him, the guilt fell on the king;[37] and if Lao-tsze was an enemy to the infliction of any kind of suffering, it was because he held that in a well-governed State the necessity for punishment could not arise, as crime would cease to exist.[38] The Chinese book, _Merits and Errors Scrutinised_, which regards it as a merit to refrain from avenging an injury, adds that, "if a man should omit to avenge the injuries of his parents, it would become an error."[39] Jesus was certainly not free from righteous indignation. It does not appear that he ever forgave the legalists who sinned against the kingdom of God, and he told his disciples that, if a brother who had trespassed against his brother neglected to hear the church, he should be looked upon as a heathen and a publican.[40] Christian writers have laid much stress upon the circumstance that Jesus enjoined men to forgive their own enemies, but not to abstain from resenting injuries done to others. According to Thomas Aquinas, "the good bear with the wicked to this extent, that, so far as it is proper to do so, they patiently endure at their hands the injuries done to themselves; but they do not bear with them to the extent of enduring the injuries done to God and their neighbours. For Chrysostom says, 'For it {78} is praiseworthy to be patient under one's own wrongs, but the height of impiety to dissemble injuries done to God.'"[41] Practically, at least, Christianity has not altered the validity of the Aristotelian rule that anger admits not only of an excess, but of a defect, and that we ought to feel angry at certain things.[42] As Plutarch says, we even think those worthy of hatred who are not vexed at hateful individuals; and we can sympathise with the man who, hearing somebody praise Charillus, king of Sparta, for his gentleness, replied, "How can Charillus be good, who is not harsh even to the bad?"[43] Moreover, the belief in a transcendental retributive justice, in an ultimate punishment of badness, which we meet with in Taouism,[44] Brahmanism, Buddhism,[45] Christianity,[46] side by side with the doctrine of forgiveness, is based upon the demand that wrong should be resented. [Footnote 37: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 316, 346 _sq._ _Cf._ _Gautama_, xii. 45; _Âpastamba_, i. 9. 25. 5.] [Footnote 38: Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 204.] [Footnote 39: 'Merits and Errors scrutinised,' in _Indo-Chinese Gleaner_, iii. 153.] [Footnote 40: _St. Matthew_, xviii. 15 _sqq._] [Footnote 41: Thomas Aquinas, _Summa Theologia_, ii.-ii. 108. 1. 2. _Cf._ Lactantius, _De ira Dei_, 17.] [Footnote 42: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, ii. 7. 10; iii. 1. 24; iv. 5. 3 _sqq._] [Footnote 43: Plutarch, _De invidia et odio_, 5.] [Footnote 44: Douglas, _op. cit._ p. 257.] [Footnote 45: _Dhammapada_, i. 15, 17; x. 137 _sqq._] [Footnote 46: _Cf._ _Romans_, xii. 19: "Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord."] It is easy to see why enlightened and sympathetic minds disapprove of resentment and retaliation springing from personal motives. Such resentment is apt to be partial. It is too often directed against persons whom impartial reflection finds to be no proper objects of indignation, and still more frequently it is unduly excessive. As Butler ays, "we are in such a peculiar situation, with respect to injuries done to ourselves, that we can scarce any more see them as they really are, than our eye can see itself."[47] "As bodies seem greater in a mist, so do little matters in a rage"; hence the old rule that we ought not to punish whilst angry.[48] The more the moral consciousness is influenced by sympathy, the more severely it condemns any retributive infliction of pain which it regards as undeserved; and it seems to be in the first place with a {79} view to preventing such injustice that teachers of morality have enjoined upon men to love their enemies. It would, indeed, be absurd to blame a person for expressing moral indignation at an act simply because he himself happens to be the offended party; practically we allow him to be even more indignant than the impartial spectator would be, whereas excessive placability often meets with censure. Like Aristotle, we maintain that "to submit to insult, or to overlook an insult offered to our friends, shows a slavish spirit"[49]; and we agree with the Confucian maxims, that injuries should be recompensed, not with kindness, but with justice, and that nobody but he who deserves it should be an object of hatred.[50] [Footnote 47: Butler, 'Sermon IX.--Upon Forgiveness of Injuries,' in _Analogy of Religion, &c._, p. 469.] [Footnote 48: Plutarch, _De cohibenda ira_, 11. Montaigne, _Essais_, ii. 31 (_Oeuvres_, p. 396).] [Footnote 49: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, 5. 6.] [Footnote 50: _Lun Yü_ xiv. 36. 3; xvii. 9. 1, 5; xvii. 24. 1. Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 9. _Cf._ _Chung Yung_, x. 3; xxxi. 1; xxxiii. 4.] At the same time, the injunctions of moralists that unjust resentment should be suppressed, are far from introducing any absolutely new element into the estimation of conduct. They only represent a higher stage of a process of moral development the early phases of which are found already in primitive societies. Even the savage who enjoins revenge as a duty, regards revenge under certain circumstances as wrong.[51] The restraining rule of like for like, as we shall see, is an instance of this. [Footnote 51: Concerning the Dacotahs, Prescott observes, "There are cases where the Indians say retaliation is wrong, and they try to prevent it" (Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes_, ii. 197).] The aggressive character of moral disapproval has become more disguised, not only by the more scrutinising attitude towards the resentment and retaliation which distinguishes the moral consciousness of a higher type, but by the different way in which the aggressiveness displays itself. The infliction of suffering merely for the sake of retribution is condemned, and the rule is laid down that we should hate, not the sinner, but only the sin. Punishment, which expresses more or less faithfully the moral indignation of the society which inflicts it, is externally similar to an act of revenge; it causes, or is intended {80} to cause, pain in return for inflicted pain. For ages it was looked upon as a matter of course that if a person had committed an offence he should have to suffer for it. This is still the notion of the multitude, as also of a host of theorisers, who, by calling punishment an expiation, or a reparation, or a restoration of the disturbed equilibrium of justice, only endeavour to give a philosophical sanction to a very simple fact, the true nature of which they too often have failed to grasp. The infliction of pain, however, is not an act which the moral consciousness regards with indifference, even in the case of a criminal; and to many enlightened minds with keen sympathy for human suffering, it has appeared both unreasonable and cruel that the State should wilfully torment him to no purpose. But whilst retributive punishment has been condemned, punishment itself has been defended; it is only looked upon in a different light, not as an end by itself, but as a means of attaining an end. It is to be inflicted, not because wrong has been done, but in order that wrong be not done. Its object is held to be, either to deter from crime, or to reform the criminal, or by means of elimination or seclusion, to make it physically impossible for him to commit fresh crimes. These views were expressed already in Greek and Roman antiquity.[52] According to Plato, a reasonable man punishes for the sake of deterring from wickedness, or with a view to correcting the offender.[53] Aristotle looks upon punishment as a moral medicine.[54] Seneca maintains that the law, in punishing wrong, aims at three ends: "either that it may correct him whom it punishes, or that his punishment may render other men better, or that, by bad men being put out of the way, the rest may live without fear."[55] In modern times all these theories have had, and still have, their numerous adherents. According to Hugo Grotius, "men are so bound together by their common {81} nature, that they ought not to do each other harm, except for the sake of some good to be attained"; hence "man is not rightly punished by man merely for the sake of punishing"; advantage alone makes punishment right--"either the advantage of the offender, or of him who suffers by the offence, or of persons in general."[56] For a long time the view taken by Hobbes, that "the aym of Punishment is not a revenge, but terrour,"[57] remained the leading doctrine on the subject, among philosophers, as well as legislators. It was shared by Montesquieu,[58] Beccaria,[59] and filangieri,[60] by Anselm von Feuerbach[61] and Schopenhauer,[62] and, in the main, by Bentham.[63] During the nineteenth century the principle of determent was largely superseded by the principle of reformation; whilst certain contemporary criminologists--like some previous ones[64]--are of opinion that punishment should aim to repress crime by an "absolute" or "relative elimination" of the criminal, that is, in extreme cases by killing him, but generally by incarcerating him in a criminal lunatic asylum, or by banishing him for ever or for a certain period, or by interdicting him from a particular neighbourhood.[65] [Footnote 52: _Cf._ Laistner, _Das Recht in der Strafe_, p. 9 _sqq._; Thonissen, _Le droit pénal de la république Athénienne_, p. 418 _sqq._] [Footnote 53: Plato, _Protagoras_, p. 324. _Idem_, _Politicus_, p. 293. _Idem_, _Gorgias_, p. 479. _Idem_, _Leges_, ix. 854; xi. 934; xii. 944.] [Footnote 54: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, ii. 3. 4.] [Footnote 55: Seneca, _De clementia_, i. 22. _Cf._ _Idem_, _De ira_, i. 19.] [Footnote 56: Grotius, _De iure belli et pacis_, ii. 20. 4 _sqq._] [Footnote 57: Hobbes, _Leviathan_, ii. 28, p. 243.] [Footnote 58: Montesquieu, _Lettres Persanes_, 81.] [Footnote 59: Beccaria, _Dei delitti e delle pene_, _passim_.] [Footnote 60: filangieri, _La scienza della legislazione_, iii. 2. 27, vol. iv. 13 _sq._] [Footnote 61: von Feuerbach-Mittermaier, _Lehrbuch des gemeinen in Deutschland gültigen Peinlichen Rechts_, p. 38 _sqq._] [Footnote 62: Schopenhauer, _Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung_, ii. 683 _sqq._] [Footnote 63: Bentham, _Principles of Morals and Legislation_, p. 170 _sq._ n. 1: ". . . Example is the most important end of all." _Idem_, _Rationale of Punishment_, p. 19 _sqq._] [Footnote 64: See von Feuerbach-Mittermaier, _op. cit._ p. 40.] [Footnote 65: Garofalo, _Criminologie_, p. 251 _sqq._ Ferri, _Criminal Sociology_, p. 204 _sqq._] The advocates of these various theories are unanimous in condemning retributive punishment as wrong. Without the grounds of social defence, says M. Guyau, "the punishment would be as blameworthy as the crime, and . . . the lawgivers and the judges, by deliberately condemning the guilty to punishment, would become their fellows."[66] For my own part I believe, on the contrary, that those who would venture to carry out all the consequences to which the theories of social defence or of reformation might lead, would be regarded even as more criminal than those they punished, not only by the {82} opponents, but probably by the very supporters of the theories in question. A brief statement of some of those consequences will, I hope, suffice to prove that punishment can hardly be guided exclusively by utilitarian considerations, but requires the sanction of the retributive emotion of moral disapproval. [Footnote 66: Guyau, _Esquisse d'une morale sans obligation ni sanction_, p. 148.] The principle of repressing crime by eliminating the criminal may at once be put aside, because it has no reference to the _punishment_ of criminals, although it contains a suggestion--and a most excellent one indeed--as to the proper mode of treating them. Their exclusion from the company of their fellow-men--not to speak of their elimination by death--certainly entails suffering, but, according to the principle with which we are dealing, this suffering is not _intended_. On the other hand, punishment, in the ordinary sense of the word, always involves an express intention to inflict pain, whatever be the object for which pain is inflicted. We do not punish an ill-natured dog when we tie him up so as to prevent him from doing harm, nor do we punish a lunatic by confining him in a madhouse. According to the principle of determent, the infliction of suffering in consequence of an offence is justified as a means of increasing public safety. The offender is sacrificed for the common weal. But why the offender only? It is quite probable that a more effective way of deterring from crime would be to punish his children as well; and if the notion of justice derived all its import from the result achieved by the punishment, there would be nothing unjust in doing so. The only objection which, from this point of view, might ever be raised against the practice of visiting the wrongs of the fathers upon the children, is that it is needlessly severe; the innocence of the children could count for nothing. Nor do I see why the law should not allow our own judges now and then to follow the example of their Egyptian colleague who in an intricate lawsuit caused a person avowedly innocent to be bastinadoed with the hope that whoever was the real {83} culprit might be induced to confess out of compassion.[67] Moreover, if the object of punishment is merely preventive, the heaviest punishment should be threatened where the strongest motive is needed to restrain. Consequently, an injury committed under great temptation, or in a passion, should be punished with particular severity; whereas a crime like parricide might be treated with more indulgence than other kinds of homicide, owing to the restraining influence of filial affection. Could the moral consciousness approve of this? [Footnote 67: Burckhardt, _Arabic Proverbs_, p. 103 _sq._] Again, if punishment were to be regulated by the principle of reforming the criminal, the result would in some cases be very astonishing. There is no more incorrigible set of offenders than habitual vagrants and drunkards, whereas experience has shown that the most easily reformed of all offenders is often some person who has committed a serious crime. According to the reformation theory, the latter should soon be set free, whilst the petty offender might have to be shut up for all his life. Nay more, if the criminal proves absolutely incorrigible, and not the slightest hope of his reformation is left, there would no longer be any reason for punishing him at all.[68] The reformationist may also be asked why he does not try some more humane method of improving people's characters than by the infliction of suffering. [Footnote 68: _Cf._ Morrison, _Crime and its Causes_, p. 203; Durkheim, _Division du travail social_, p. 94.] It may seem strange that theories which are open to such objections should have been able to attract so many intelligent partisans. These theories must at least possess a certain plausibility. If punishment on the one hand springs from moral indignation, and on the other hand is frequently interpreted as a means either of deterring from crime or of reforming the criminal, there must obviously be some connection between these ends and the retributive aim of moral resentment. There must be certain facts which, to some extent, fill up the gap between the theory of retribution and the other theories of punishment. {84} The doctrine of determent regards punishment as a means of preventing crime. A crime always involves the infliction of pain; and the one thing which men try to prevent for its own sake is pain. The one thing which arouses resentment is likewise pain. There must consequently be a general coincidence between the acts which people resent and the acts which the law would punish if it were framed on the principle of determent. But the resemblance between the desire to deter and resentment is greater still. Resentment is not only aroused by pain, but is a hostile attitude towards its cause, and its intrinsic object is to remove this cause, that is, to prevent pain. An act of moral resentment is therefore apt to resemble a punishment inflicted with a view to deterring from crime, provided that the punishment is directed against the cause of crime--the criminal himself--and is not unduly severe. The doctrine of reformation aims at the removal of a criminal disposition of mind by improving the offender. Moral resentment likewise aims at the removal of a volitional cause of pain, by bringing about repentance in the offender. That repentance ought to be followed by forgiveness, partial or total, is a widely recognised moral claim. According to the Chinese Penal Code, whoever, having committed an injury which can be repaired by restitution or compensation, surrenders himself voluntarily, and acknowledges his guilt to a magistrate, before it is otherwise discovered, shall be freely pardoned, though all claims upon his property shall be duly liquidated.[69] In Madagascar, according to a law made in 1828, "all the fines shall be reduced one-half, according to the nature of the fines, if the persons guilty accuse themselves."[70] According to Zoroastrianism, one element of atonement consists in repentance, as manifested by avowal of the guilt and by the recital of a formula, the _Patet_.[71] It is said in the Laws of Manu:--"In proportion as a man who has done wrong, himself {85} confesses it, even so far he is freed from guilt, as a snake from its slough. . . . He who has committed a sin and has repented, is freed from that sin, but he is purified only by the resolution of ceasing to sin and thinking 'I will do so no more.'"[72] According to the Rig-Veda, Varuna inflicts terrible punishments on the hardened criminal, but is merciful to him who repents; to Varuna the cry of anguish from remorse ascends, and before him the sinner comes to discharge himself of the burden of his guilt by confession.[73] So, also, Zeus pardons the repentant.[74] The main doctrine of Judaism on the subject of atonement is comprised in the single word Repentance. No teachers, says Mr. Montefiore, "exalted the place and power of repentance more than the Rabbis. There was no sin for which in their eyes a true repentance could not obtain forgiveness from God."[75] According to the Talmud, a space of only two fingers' breadth lies between Hell and Heaven: the sinner has only to repent sincerely, and the gates to everlasting bliss will spring open.[76] Jesus commanded his disciples to forgive injuries if followed by repentance:--"If thy brother trespass against thee, rebuke him; and if he repent, forgive him. And if he trespass against thee seven times in a day, and seven times in a day turn again to thee, saying, I repent; thou shalt forgive him."[77] [Footnote 69: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. xxv. p. 27 _sq._] [Footnote 70: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 386.] [Footnote 71: Darmesteter, in _Sacred Books of the East_, iv. p. lxxxvi.] [Footnote 72: _Laws of Manu_, xi. 229, 231. _Cf._ _ibid._ xi. 228, 230.] [Footnote 73: _Rig-Veda_, i. 25. 1 _sq._; ii. 28. 5 _sqq._; v. 85. 7 _sq._; vii. 87. 7, 88. 6 _sq._, 89. 1 _sqq._ Barth, _Religions of India_, p. 17.] [Footnote 74: _Ilias_, ix. 502 _sqq._] [Footnote 75: Montefiore, _op. cit._ pp. 524, 335 n.] [Footnote 76: Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 53. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 56; Katz, _Der wahre Talmudjude_, p. 87 _sq._; Kohler, 'Atonement,' in _Jewish Encyclopedia_, ii. 279; Moore, 'Sacrifice' in Cheyne and Black, _Encyclopædia Biblica_, iv. 4224 _sq._] [Footnote 77: _St. Luke_, xvii. 3 _sq._] But repentance not only blunts the edge of moral indignation and recommends the offender to the mercy of men and gods: it is the sole ground on which pardon can be given by a scrupulous judge. When sufficiently guided by deliberation and left to itself, without being unduly checked by other emotions, the feeling of moral resentment is apt to last as long as its cause remains unaltered, that is until the will of the offender has ceased to be offensive; and it ceases to be offensive only when he acknowledges his guilt and repents. It is true that the mere performance of certain ceremonies is frequently supposed to relieve the performer of his sins,[78] and that the {86} same end is thought to be attained by pleasing God in some way or other, by sacrifice, or alms-giving, or the like. Men even lay claim to divine forgiveness as a right belonging to them in virtue of some meritorious deeds of theirs, according to the doctrine of _opera supererogativa_--a doctrine which, in substance, is not restricted to Roman Catholicism, but is found, in a more or less developed form, in Judaism,[79] Muhammedanism,[80] Brahmanism,[81] and degenerated Buddhism.[82] But all such ideas are objectionable to the moral consciousness of a higher type. They are based on the crude notion that sin is a material substance which may be removed by material means; or on the belief that an offender may compound with the deity for sinning against him, in the same way as he pacifies his injured neighbour, by bribery or flattery; or on the assumptions that by a good or meritorious deed a man has done more than his duty, that a good deed stands in the same relation to a bad deed as a claim to a debt, that the claim is made on the same person to whom the debt is due, namely, God--even though it beinclihedinclihed only by his mercy--and that the debt consequently may be compensated by the claim in the same way as the payment of a certain sum may compensate for a loss inflicted. This doctrine attaches badness and goodness to external acts rather than to mental facts. Reparation implies compensation for a loss. The loss may be compensated by the bestowal of a corresponding advantage; but no reparation can be given for badness. Badness can only be forgiven, and moral forgiveness can be granted only on condition that the agent's mind has undergone a radical alteration for the better, that the badness of the will has given way to repentance.[83] Hence the Reformation {87} proscribed offerings for the redemption of sins, together with the trade in indulgences; and we meet with an analogous movement in other comparatively advanced forms of religion. In reformed Brahmanism, repentance is declared to be the only means of redeeming trespasses.[84] The idea expressed in the Psalms, that God delights not in burnt offerings, but that the sacrifices of God are a broken and a contrite heart,[85] became the prevailing opinion among the Rabbis, most of whom regarded repentance as the _conditio sine quâ non_ of expiation and the forgiveness of sins.[86] Let us also remember that he who commanded his followers to forgive a brother for his sin, at the same time pronounced the qualification: "if he repent."[87] [Footnote 78: _Supra_, p. 53 _sqq._ Heriot, _Travels through the Canadas_, p. 378 (ancient Mexicans). Adair, _History of the American Indians_, p. 150. Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamchatka_, p. 178. Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, p. 24.] [Footnote 79: Montefiore, _op. cit._ p. 525 _sqq._] [Footnote 80: _Koran_, xi. 116. Sell, _Faith of Islám_, p. 220 _sq._ According to Muhammadanism, however, it is only "little sins" that are forgiven if some good actions are done, whereas "great sins" can only be forgiven after due repentance (_ibid._ p. 214).] [Footnote 81: Wheeler, _History of India_, ii. 475.] [Footnote 82: _Indo-Chinese Gleaner_, iii. 150, 161, 164. Davis, _China_, ii. 48.] [Footnote 83: This point was certainly not overlooked by the Catholic moralists, but even the most ardent apology cannot explain away the idea of reparation in the Catholic doctrine of the justification of man (_cf._ Manzoni, _Osservazioni sulla Morale Cattolica_, p. 100). Penance consists of contrition, confession, and satisfaction, and contrition itself is chiefly "a willingness to compensate" (_Catechism of the Council of Trent_, ii. 5. 22).] [Footnote 84: Goblet d'Alviella, _Hibbert Lectures on the Origin and Growth of the Conception of God_, p. 263.] [Footnote 85: _Psalms_, li. 16 _sq._] [Footnote 86: Moore, _loc. cit._ col. 4225.] [Footnote 87: _Cf._ Martineau, _Types of Ethical Theory_, ii. 203.] That moral indignation is appeased by repentance, and that repentance is the only proper ground for forgiveness, is thus due, not to the specifically moral character of such indignation, but to its being a form of resentment. This is confirmed by the fact that an angry and revengeful man is apt to be in a similar way influenced by the sincere apologies of the offender. As Aristotle said, men are placable in regard to those who acknowledge and repent their guilt: "there is proof of this in the case of chastising servants; for we chastise more violently those who contradict us, and deny their guilt; but towards such as acknowledge themselves to be justly punished, we cease from our wrath."[88] To take an instance from the savage world. The Caroline Islander, according to Mr. Christian, "is inclined to be revengeful, and will bide his time patiently until his opportunity comes. Yet he is not implacable, and counts reconciliation a noble and a princely thing. There is a form of etiquette to be observed on {88} these occasions--a present (_katom_) is made, an apology offered--a piece of sugar-cane accepted by the aggrieved party--honour is satisfied and the matter ends."[89] In the case of revenge, external satisfaction or material compensation is often allowed to take the place of genuine repentance, and the humiliation of the adversary may be sufficient to quiet the angry passion. But the revenge felt by a reflecting mind is not so readily satisfied. It wants to remove the cause which aroused it. The object which resentment is chiefly intent upon, Adam Smith observes, "is not so much to make our enemy feel pain in his turn, as to make him conscious that he feels it upon account of his past conduct, to make him repent of that conduct, and to make him sensible, that the person whom he injured did not deserve to be treated in that manner."[90] The delight of revenge, says Bacon, "seemeth to be not so much in doing the hurt, as in making the party repent."[91] [Footnote 88: Aristotle, _Rhetorica_, ii. 3. 5.] [Footnote 89: Christian, _Caroline Islands_, p. 72.] [Footnote 90: Adam Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 138 _sq._] [Footnote 91: Bacon, 'Essay IV. Of Revenge,' in _Essays_, p. 45. _Cf._ Montaigne, _Essais_, ii. 27 (_Oeuvres_, p. 384).] We can now see the origin of the idea that the true end of punishment is the reformation of the criminal. This idea merely emphasises the most humane element in resentment, the demand that the offender's will shall cease to be offensive. The principle of reformation has thus itself a retributive origin. This explains the fact, otherwise inexplicable, that the amendment which it has in view is to be effected by the infliction of pain. It also accounts for the inconsistent attitude of the reformationist towards incorrigible offenders, already commented upon. Resentment gives way to forgiveness only in the case of repentance, not in the case of incorrigibility. Hence, not even the reformationist regards incorrigibility as a legitimate ground for exempting a person from punishment, although this flatly contradicts his theory about the true aim of all punishment. Thus the theories both of determent and of reformation are ultimately offspring of the same emotion that first {89} induced men to inflict punishment on their fellow-creatures. It escaped the advocates of these theories that they themselves were under the influence of the very principle they fought against, because they failed to grasp its true import. Rightly understood, resentment is preventive in its nature, and, when sufficiently deliberate, regards the infliction of suffering as a means rather than as an end. It not only gives rise to punishment, but readily suggests, as a proper end of punishment, either determent or amendment or both. But, first of all, moral resentment wants to raise a protest against wrong. And the immediate aim of punishment has always been to give expression to the righteous indignation of the society which inflicts it. Now it may be thought that men have no right to give vent to their moral resentment in a way which hurts their neighbours unless some benefit may be expected from it. In the case of many other emotions, we hold that the conative element in the emotion ought not to be allowed to develop into a distinct volition or act; and it would seem that a similar view might be taken with reference to the aggressiveness inherent in moral disapproval. It is a notion of this kind that lies at the bottom of the utilitarian theories of punishment. They are protests against purposeless infliction of pain, against crude ideas of retributive justice, against theories hardly in advance of the low feelings of the popular mind. Therefore, they mark a stage of higher refinement in the evolution of the moral consciousness; and if the principles of determent and reformation are open to objections which will be shared by almost everyone, that is due to other circumstances than their demand that punishment should serve a useful end. As we have seen, they ignore the fact that a punishment, in order to be recognised as just, must not transgress the limits set down by moral disapproval, that it must not be inflicted on innocent persons, that it must be proportioned to the guilt, that offenders who are amenable to discipline must not be treated more severely {90} than incorrigible criminals. These theories also seem to exaggerate the deterring or reforming influence which punishments exercise upon criminals,[92] whilst, in another respect, they take too narrow a view of its social usefulness. Whether its voice inspire fear or not, whether it wake up a sleeping conscience or not, punishment, at all events, tells people in plain terms what, in the opinion of the society, they ought not to do. It gives the multitude a severe lesson in public morality; and it is difficult to see how quite the same effect could be attained by any other method. Retaliation is such a spontaneous expression of indignation, that people would hardly realise the offensiveness of an act which evokes no signs of resentment. Of course, punishment, in the legal sense of the term, is only one form--the most concrete form--of public retaliation; it is, indeed, probable that public opinion exercises a greater influence on men than punishment would do without its aid.[93] But punishment, in combination with public opinion, has no doubt to some extent an educating, and not merely a deterring, influence upon the members of a society. As Sir James Stephen observes, "the sentence of the law is to the moral sentiment of the public in relation to any offence what a seal is to hot wax. It converts into a permanent final judgment what might otherwise be a transient sentiment."[94] finally, it must not be overlooked that the infliction of punishment upon the perpetrator of a grave offence gratifies a strong general desire, and, even though the pain which always accompanies an unsatisfied desire would by itself afford no sufficient justification for subjecting the offence to such intense {91} suffering, other more serious consequences might easily result from leaving him unpunished. The public indignation might find a vent in some less regular and less discriminating mode of retaliation, like lynching; or, on the other hand, by remaining unsatisfied, the desire might dwindle away from want of nourishment, and the moral standard suffer a corresponding loss. [Footnote 92: On the limited efficiency of punishment as a deterrent, see Ferri, _op. cit._ p. 82 _sq._ On the moral insensibility of the instinctive and habitual criminal, and absence of remorse, see Havelock Ellis, _The Criminal_, p. 124 _sqq._] [Footnote 93: _Cf._ Locke, _Essay concerning Human Understanding_, ii. 28. 12 (_Philosophical Works_, p. 283); Shaftesbury, 'Inquiry concerning Virtue and Merit,' i. 3. 3, in _Characteristicks_, ii. 64.] [Footnote 94: Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, ii. 81. _Cf._ Shaftesbury, _op. cit._ ii. 64: "As to punishments and rewards, their efficacy is not so much from the fear or expectation which they raise, as from a natural esteem of virtue, and detestation of villainy, which is awaken'd and excited by these publick expressions of the approbation and hatred of mankind in each case."] However, it is not to be believed that, in practice, the infliction of punishment is, or ever will be, regulated merely by considerations of social utility, even within the limits of what is recognised as legitimate by the moral sentiment. The retributive desire is so strong, and appears so natural, that we can neither help obeying it, nor seriously disapprove of its being obeyed. The theory that we have a right to punish an offender only in so far as, by doing so, we promote the general happiness, really serves in the main as a justification for gratifying such a desire, rather than as a foundation for penal practice. Moreover, this theory refers, and pretends to refer, only to outward behaviour--to punishment, not to the emotion from which punishment springs. It condemns the retributive act, not the retributive desire. But at the same time the aggressive element in the emotion itself has undergone a change, which tends to conceal its true nature by partly leading it into a new channel, or, rather, by narrowing the channel in which it discharges itself. Resentment is directed against the cause of the offence by which it was aroused--broadly speaking, the offender. But when duly reflecting upon the matter, we cannot fail to admit that the real cause was not the offender as a whole, but his will. Deliberate and discriminating resentment is therefore apt to turn against the will rather than against the willer; as we have seen, it is desirous to inflict pain on the offender chiefly as a means of removing the cause of pain suffered, _i.e._, the existence of the bad will. If this is the case with deliberate resentment in general, it must particularly be the case with moral indignation, which is more likely to be {92} influenced by sympathy, and hence more discriminate, than non-moral resentment. This fact gives rise to the moral commandment that we should hate, not the sinner, but the sin. The hostile reaction should be focussed on the will of the offender, and his sensibility should be regarded merely as an instrument through which the will is worked upon. But there is little hope that such a demand can ever be strictly enforced. Professor Sidgwick justly remarks that, though moralists try to distinguish between anger directed "against the act" and anger directed "against the agent," it may be fairly doubted whether it is within the capacity of ordinary human nature to maintain this distinction in practice.[95] The will which offends, and the sensibility which suffers, cannot seriously be looked upon as two different entities the one of which should not be punished for the fault of the other. The person himself is held responsible for the offence. The hostile reaction turns against his will because only by acting upon the will can the cause of pain be removed. But since the remotest ages the aggressive attitude towards this cause has been connected with an instinctive desire to produce counter-pain; and, though we may recognise that such a desire, or rather the volition into which it tends to develop, may be morally justifiable only if it is intended to remove the cause of pain, we can hardly help being indulgent to the gratification of a human instinct which seems to be well nigh ineradicable. It is the instinctive desire to inflict counter-pain that gives to moral indignation its most important characteristic. Without it, moral condemnation and the ideas of right and wrong would never have come into existence. Without it, we should no more condemn a bad man than a poisonous plant. The reason why moral judgments are passed on volitional beings, or their acts, is not merely that they are volitional, but that they are sensitive as well; and however much we try to concentrate our indignation on the act, it derives its peculiar flavour from being directed {93} against a sensitive agent. I have heard persons of a highly sympathetic cast of mind assert that a wrong act awakens in them only sorrow, not indignation; but though sorrow be the predominant element in their state of mind, I believe that, on a close inspection, they would find there another emotion as well, one in which there is immanent an element of hostility, however slight. It is true that the intensity of moral indignation cannot always be measured by the actual desire to cause pain to the offender; but its intensity seems nevertheless to be connected with the amount of suffering which the indignant man is willing to let the offender undergo in consequence of the offence. Which of us could ever, quite apart from any utilitarian considerations, feel the same sympathy with a person who suffers on account of his badness as with one who suffers innocently? It is one of the most interesting facts related to the moral consciousness of a higher type, that it in vain condemns the gratification of the very desire from which it sprang. It is like a man of low extraction, who, in spite of all acquired refinement, bears his origin stamped on his face. [Footnote 95: Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_, p. 364.] * * * * * Whilst resentment is a hostile attitude of mind towards a cause of pain, retributive kindly emotion is a friendly attitude of mind towards a cause of pleasure. Just as in the lower forms of anger there is hardly any definite desire to produce suffering, only a vehement desire to remove the cause of pain, so in the lower form of retributive kindly emotion there is hardly any definite desire to produce pleasure, only a friendly endeavour to retain the cause of the pleasure experienced. When the emotion contains a definite desire to give pleasure in return for pleasure received, and at the same time is felt by the favoured party in his capacity of being himself the object of the benefit, it is called gratitude. We often find intermingled with gratitude a feeling of indebtedness; he upon whom a benefit has been conferred feels himself as a debtor, and regards the benefactor as his creditor. This feeling has {94} even been represented as essential to, or as a condition of, gratitude;[96] but it is not implied in what I here understand by gratitude. It is one thing to be grateful, and another thing to feel that it is one's duty to be grateful. A depression of the "self-feeling," a feeling of humiliation, also frequently accompanies gratitude as a motive for requiting the benefit; but it is certainly not an element in gratitude itself. [Footnote 96: Horwicz, _Psychologische Analysen_, ii. 333: "Ohne dieses Gefühl des Verbundenseins . . . . kann keine Dankbarkeit auskommen." _Cf._ Milton, _Paradise Lost_, iv. 52 _sqq._] Retributive kindly emotion is a much less frequent phenomenon in the animal kingdom than is the emotion of resentment. In many animal species not even the germ of it is found, and where it occurs it is generally restricted within narrow limits. Anybody may provoke an animal's anger, but only towards certain individuals it is apt to feel retributive kindliness. The limits for this emotion are marked off by the conditions under which altruistic sentiments in general tend to arise--a subject which will be discussed in another connection. Indeed, social affection is itself essentially retributive. Gregarious animals take pleasure in each other's company, and with this pleasure is intimately associated kindly feeling towards its cause, the companion himself. Social affection presupposes reciprocity; it is not only a friendly sentiment towards another individual, but towards an individual who is conceived of as a friend. The intrinsic object of retributive kindliness being to retain a cause of pleasure, we may assume that the definite desire to produce pleasure in return for pleasure received is due to the fact that such a desire materially promotes the object in question--exactly in the same way as the definite desire to inflict pain in return for pain inflicted has become an element in resentment because such a desire promotes the intrinsic object of resentment, the removal of the cause of pain. And as natural selection accounts for the origin of resentment, so it also accounts for the {95} origin of retributive kindly emotion. Both of these emotions are useful states of mind; by resentment evils are averted, by retributive kindliness benefits are secured. That there is such a wide difference in their prevalence is explicable from the simple facts that gregariousness--which is the root of social affection, and, largely at least, a condition of the rise of retributive kindly emotions--is an advantage only to some species, not to all, and that even gregarious animals have many enemies, but few friends. In some cases the friendly reaction in retributive kindliness is directed towards individuals who have in no way been the cause of the pleasure which gave rise to the emotion. So intimate is the connection between the stimulus and the reaction, that he who is made happy often feels a general desire to make others happy.[97] But such an indiscriminate reaction is only an offset of the emotion with which we are here concerned. Moreover, retributive kindly emotion often confers benefits upon somebody nearly related to the benefactor, if he himself be out of reach, or in addition to benefits conferred on him. But in such cases the gratitude towards the benefactor is the real motive. [Footnote 97: That a happy man wants to see glad faces around him, is also due to another cause, which has been pointed out by Dr. Hirn (_Origins of Art_, p. 83): from their expression he wants to derive further nourishment and increase for his own feeling.] That moral approval--by which I understand that emotion of which moral praise or reward is the outward manifestation--is a kind of retributive kindly emotion and as such allied to gratitude, will probably be admitted without much hesitation.[98] Its friendly character is not, like the hostile character of moral disapproval, disguised by any apparently contradictory facts. To confer a benefit upon a person is not generally regarded as wrong, unless, indeed, it involves an encroachment on somebody's rights or is contrary to the feeling of justice. And that moral approval sometimes bestows its favours upon undeserving {96} individuals for the merits of others, can no more invalidate the fact that it is essentially directed towards the cause of pleasure, than the occasional infliction of punishments upon innocent individuals invalidates the fact that moral disapproval is essentially directed against the cause of pain. Unmerited rewards are explicable on grounds analogous to those to which we have traced unmerited punishments. [Footnote 98: The relationship between gratitude and moral approval has been recognised by Hartley (_Observations on Man_, i. 520) and Adam Smith (_Theory of Moral Sentiments_, _passim_).] The doctrine of family solidarity leads, not only to common responsibility for crimes, but to common enjoyment of merits. In Madagascar, exemption from punishment was claimed by the descendants of persons who had rendered any particular service to the sovereign or the State, as also by other branches of the family, on the same plea.[99] According to Chinese ideas, the virtuous conduct of any individual will result, not only in prosperity to himself, but in a certain quantity of happiness to his posterity, unless indeed the personal wickedness of some of the descendants neutralise the benefits which would otherwise accrue from the virtue of the ancestor;[100] and, conversely, the Chinese Government confers titles of nobility upon the dead parents of a distinguished son.[101] The idea that the dead share in _punya_ or _pâpa_, that is, the merit or demerit of the living, and that the happiness of a man in the next life depends on the good works of his descendants, was early familiar to the civilised natives of India; almost all legal deeds of gift contain the formula that the gift is made "for the increase of the _punya_ of the donor and that of his father and mother."[102] [Footnote 99: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, 376.] [Footnote 100: Giles, _Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio_, i. 426, n. 3; ii. 384, n. 63. Doolittle, _Social Life of the Chinese_, ii. 398.] [Footnote 101: Giles, _op. cit._ i. 305, n. 6. Wells Williams, _Middle Kingdom_, i. 422.] [Footnote 102: Barth, _Religions of India_, p. 52, n. 4.] But the vicarious efficacy of good deeds is not necessarily restricted to the members of the same family. In a hymn of the Rig-Veda we find the idea that the merits or the pious may benefit their neighbours.[103] According to one of the Pahlavi texts, persons who are wholly unable to perform good works are supposed to be entitled to a share of any supererogatory good works performed by others.[104] The Chinese believe that {97} whole kingdoms are blessed by benevolent spirits for the virtuous conduct of their rulers.[105] Yahveh promised not to destroy Sodom for the sake of ten righteous, provided that so many righteous could be found in the town.[106] The doctrine of vicarious reward or satisfaction through good works is, in fact, more prevalent than the doctrine of vicarious punishment. Jewish theology has a great deal more to say about the acceptance of the merits of the righteous on behalf of the wicked, than about atonement through sacrifice.[107] The Muhammedans, who know nothing of vicarious suffering as a means of expiation, confer merits upon their dead by reciting chapters of the Koran and almsgiving, and some of them allow the pilgrimage to Mecca to be done by proxy.[108] Christian theology itself maintains that salvation depends on the merit of the passion of Christ; and from early times the merits of martyrs and saints were believed to benefit other members of the Church.[109] [Footnote 103: _Rig-Veda_, vii. 35. 4.] [Footnote 104: _Dînâ-î-Maînôg-î Khirad_ xv. 3.] [Footnote 105: de Groot, _Religious System of China_ (vol. iv. book) ii. 435.] [Footnote 106: _Genesis_, xviii. 32.] [Footnote 107: Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 424, n. 1.] [Footnote 108: Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, pp. 247, 248, 532. Sell, _op. cit._ pp. 242, 278, 287, 288, 298. _Cf._ Wallin, _Fórsta Resa från Cairo till Arabiska öknen_, p. 103.] [Footnote 109: Harnack, _History of Dogma_, ii. 133, n. 3.] For the explanation of these and similar facts various circumstances have to be considered. Good deeds may be so pleasing to a god as to induce him to forgive the sins of the wicked in accordance with the rule that anger yields to joy. There is solidarity not only between members of the same family, but between members of the same social unit; hence the virtues of individuals may benefit the whole community to which they belong. The Catholic theologian argues that, since we are all regenerated unto Christ by being washed in the same baptism, made partakers of the same sacraments, and, especially, of the same meat and drink, the body and blood of Christ, we are all members of the same body. "As, then, the foot does not perform its functions solely for itself, but also for the benefit of the eyes; and as the eyes exercise their sight, not for their own, but for the common benefit of all the members; so should works of satisfaction be deemed common to all the members of the {98} Church."[110] Moreover, virtues, like sins, are believed to be in a material way transferable. In Upper Bavaria, when a dead person is laid out, a cake of flour is placed on his breast in order to absorb the virtues of the deceased, whereupon the cake is eaten by the nearest relatives.[111] And we are told that, in a certain district in the north of England, if a child is brought to the font at the same time as a body is committed to the ground, whatever was "good" in the deceased person is supposed to be transferred to the little child, since God does not allow any "goodness" to be buried and lost to the world, and such "goodness" is most likely to enter a little child coming to the sacrament of Baptism.[112] A blessing, also, no less than a curse, is looked upon in the light of material energy; goodness is not required for the acquisition of it, mere contact will do. Blessings are hereditary:--"The just man walketh in his integrity: his children are blessed after him."[113] [Footnote 110: _Catechism of the Council of Trent_, ii. 5. 72.] [Footnote 111: _Am Urquell_, ii. 101.] [Footnote 112: Peacock, 'Executed Criminals and Folk-Medicine,' in _Folk-Lore_, vii. 280.] [Footnote 113: _Proverbs_, xx. 7.] It is no doubt more becoming for a god to pardon the sinner on account of the merits of the virtuous, than to punish the innocent for the sins of the wicked. It shows that his compassion overcomes his wrath; and the mercy of the deity is, among all divine attributes, that on which the higher monotheistic religions lay most stress. Allah said, "Whoso doth one good act, for him are ten rewards, and I also give more to whomsoever I will; and whoso doth ill, its retaliation is equal to it, or else I forgive him."[114] Nevertheless, the moral consciousness of a higher type can hardly approve that the wicked should be pardoned for the sake of the virtuous, or that the reward for an act should be bestowed upon anybody else than the agent. The doctrine of vicarious merit or recompense is not just; it involves that badness is unduly ignored; it is based on crude ideas of goodness and merit. The theory of _opera supererogativa_, as we have seen, attaches badness {99} and goodness to external acts rather than to mental facts, and assumes that reparation can be given for badness, whereas the scrutinising moral judge only forgives badness in case it is superseded by repentance. If thus a bad act cannot be compensated by a good one, even though both be performed by one and the same person, it can still less be compensated by the good act of another man. From various quarters we hear protests against the notion of vicarious merit--protests which emphasise the true direction of moral reward. Ezekiel, who reproved the old idea that the children's teeth are set on edge because the fathers have eaten sour grapes, also taught that a wicked son is to reap no benefit from the blessings bestowed upon a righteous father.[115] "Fear the day," says the Koran, "wherein no soul shall pay any recompense for another soul."[116] The Buddhistic Dhammapada contains the following passage, which sums up our whole argument:--"By oneself the evil is done, by oneself one suffers; by oneself evil is left undone, by oneself one is purified. The pure and the impure stand and fall by themselves, no one can purify another."[117] [Footnote 114: Lane-Poole, _Speeches and Table-Talk of Mohammad_, p. 147.] [Footnote 115: _Ezekiel_, xviii. 5 _sqq._] [Footnote 116: _Koran_, ii. 44.] [Footnote 117: _Dhammapada_, xii. 165.] CHAPTER IV THE NATURE OF THE MORAL EMOTIONS (_concluded_) WE have seen that moral disapproval is a form of resentment, and that moral approval is a form of retributive kindly emotion. It still remains for us to examine in what respects these emotions differ from kindred non-moral emotions--disapproval from anger and revenge, approval from gratitude--in other words, what characterises them as specifically _moral_ emotions. It is a common opinion, held by all who regard the intellect as the source of moral concepts, that moral emotions only arise in consequence of moral judgments, and that, in each case, the character of the emotion is determined by the predicate of the judgment. We are told that, when the intellectual process is completed, when the act in question is definitely classed under such or such a moral category, then, and only then, there follows instantaneously a feeling of either approbation or disapprobation as the case may be.[1] When we hear of a murder, for instance, we must discern the wrongness of the act before we can feel moral indignation at it. [Footnote 1: Fleming, _Manual of Moral Philosophy_, p. 97 _sqq._ Fowler, _Principles of Morals_, ii. 198 _sqq._] It is true that a moral judgment may be followed by a moral emotion, that the finding out the tendency of a certain mode of conduct to evoke indignation or approval is apt to call forth such an emotion, if there was none before, or otherwise to increase the one existing. It is, moreover, true that the predicate of a moral judgment, as {101} well as the generalisation leading up to such a predicate, may give a specific colouring to the approval or disapproval which it produces, quite apart from the general characteristics belonging to that emotion in its capacity of a moral emotion; the concepts of duty and justice, for instance, no doubt have a peculiar flavour of their own. But for all this, moral emotions cannot be described as resentment or retributive kindliness called forth by moral judgments. Such a definition would be a meaningless play with words. Whatever emotions may follow moral judgments, such judgments could never have been pronounced unless there had been moral emotions antecedent to them. Their predicates, as was pointed out above, are essentially based on generalisations of tendencies in certain phenomena to arouse moral emotions; hence the criterion of a moral emotion can in no case depend upon its proceeding from a moral judgment. But at the same time moral judgments, being definite expressions of moral emotions, naturally help us to discover the true nature of these emotions. The predicate of a moral judgment always involves a notion of disinterestedness. When pronouncing an act to be good or bad, I mean that it is so, quite independently of any reference it might have to my own interests. A moral judgment may certainly have a selfish motive; but then it, nevertheless, pretends to be disinterested, which shows that disinterestedness is a characteristic of moral concepts as such. This is admitted even by the egoistic hedonist, who maintains that we approve and condemn acts from self-love. According to Helvetius, it is the love of consideration that a virtuous man takes to be in him the love of virtue; and yet everybody pretends to love virtue for its own sake, "this phrase is in every one's mouth and in no one's heart."[2] [Footnote 2: Helvetius, _De l'Homme_, i. 263.] If the moral concepts are essentially generalisations of tendencies in certain phenomena to call forth moral emotions, and, at the same time, contain the notion of {102} disinterestedness, we must conclude that the emotions from which they spring are felt disinterestedly. Of this fact we find an echo--more or less faithful--in the maxims of various ethical theorisers, as well as practical moralists. We find it in the utilitarian demand that, in regard to his own happiness and that of others, an agent should be "as strictly impartial as a disinterested and benevolent spectator";[3] in the "rule of righteousness" laid down by Samuel Clarke, that "We so deal with every man, as in like circumstances we could reasonably expect he should with us";[4] in Kant's formula, "Act only on that maxim which thou canst at the same time will to become a universal law";[5] in Professor Sidgwick's so-called axiom, "I ought not to prefer my own lesser good to the greater good of another";[6] in the biblical sayings, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself,"[7] and, "Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them."[8] The same fact is expressed in the Indian Mahabharata, where it is said:--"Let no man do to another that which would be repugnant to himself; this is the sum of righteousness; the rest is according to inclination. In refusing, in bestowing, in regard to pleasure and to pain, to what is agreeable and disagreeable, a man obtains the proper rule by regarding the case as like his own."[9] Similar words are ascribed to Confucius.[10] When Tsze-kung asked if there is any one word which may serve as a rule of practice for all one's life, the Master answered, "Is not Reciprocity such a word? What you do not want done to yourself, do not do to {103} others." And in another utterance Confucius showed that the rule had for him not only a negative, but a positive form. He said that, in the way of the superior man, there are four things to none of which he himself had as yet attained; to serve his father as he would require his son to serve him, to serve his prince as he would require his minister to serve him, to serve his elder brother as he would require his younger brother to serve him, and to set the example in behaving to a friend as he would require the friend to behave to him.[11] [Footnote 3: Stuart Mill, _Utilitarianism_, p. 24.] [Footnote 4: Clarke, _Discourse concerning the Unchangeable Obligations of Natural Religion_, p. 201.] [Footnote 5: Kant, _Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten_, sec. 2 (_Sämmtliche Werke_, iv. 269).] [Footnote 6: Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_, p. 383. However, as we have seen above, this so-called "axiom" is not a correct representation of the disinterestedness of moral emotions.] [Footnote 7: _Leviticus_, xix. 18. _St. Matthew_, xxii. 39.] [Footnote 8: _St. Matthew_, vii. 12. _Cf._ _St. Luke_, vi. 31.] [Footnote 9: _Mahabharata_, xiii. 5571 _sq._, in Muir, _Religious and Moral Sentiments, rendered from Sanskrit Writers_, p. 107. _Cf._ _Panchatantra_, iii. (Benfey's translation, ii. 235).] [Footnote 10: _Lun Yü_, xv. 23. _Cf._ _ibid._ xii. 2; _Chung Yung_, xiii. 3.] [Footnote 11: _Chung Yung_, xiii. 4.] This "golden rule" is not, as has been sometimes argued, a rule of retaliation.[12] It does not say, "Do to others what they wish to do to you"; it says, "Do to others what you wish, or require, them to do to you." It brings home to us the fact that moral rules are general rules, which ought to be obeyed irrespectively of any selfish considerations. If formulated as an injunction that we should treat our neighbour in the same manner as we consider that he, under exactly similar circumstances, ought to treat us, it is simply identical with the sentence, "Do your duty," with emphasis laid on the disinterestedness which is involved in the very conception of duty. So far, St. Augustine was right in saying that "Do as thou wouldst be done by" is a sentence which all nations under heaven are agreed upon.[13] [Footnote 12: Letourneau, _L'évolution religieuse dans les diverses races humaines_, p. 553.] [Footnote 13: St. Augustine, quoted by Lilly, _Right and Wrong_, p. 106.] Disinterestedness, however, is not the only characteristic by which moral indignation and approval are distinguished from other, non-moral, kinds of resentment or retributive kindly emotion. It is, indeed, itself a form of a more comprehensive quality which characterises moral emotions--apparent impartiality. If I pronounce an act done to a friend or to an enemy to be either good or bad, that implies that I assume it to be so independently of the fact that the person to whom the act is done is my friend or my enemy. Conversely, if I pronounce an {104} act done by a friend or by an enemy to be good or bad, that implies that I assume the act to be either good or bad independently of my friendly or hostile feelings towards the agent. All this means that resentment and retributive kindly emotion are moral emotions in so far as they are assumed by those who feel them to be uninfluenced by the particular relationship in which they stand, both to those who are immediately affected by the acts in question, and to those who perform those acts. A moral emotion, then, is tested by an imaginary change of the relationship between him who approves or disapproves of the mode of conduct by which the emotion was evoked and the parties immediately concerned, whilst the relationship between the parties themselves is left unaltered. At the same time it is not necessary that the moral emotion should be really impartial. It is sufficient that it is tacitly assumed to be so, nay, even that it is not knowingly partial. In attributing different rights to different individuals, or classes of individuals, we are often, in reality, influenced by the relationship in which we stand to them, by personal sympathies and antipathies; and yet those rights may be moral rights, in the strict sense of the term, not mere preferences, namely, if we assume that any impartial judge would recognise our attribution of rights as just, or even if we are unaware of its partiality. Similarly, when the savage censures a homicide committed upon a member of his own tribe, but praises one committed upon a member of another tribe, his censure and praise are certainly influenced by his relations to the victim, or to the agent, or to both. He does not reason thus: it is blamable to kill a member of one's own tribe, and it is praiseworthy to kill a member of a foreign tribe--whether the tribe be mine or not. Nevertheless, his blame and his praise must be regarded as expressions of moral emotions. Finally, a moral emotion has a certain flavour of generality. We have previously noticed that a moral judgment very frequently implies some vague assumption {105} that it must be shared by everybody who possesses both a sufficient knowledge of the case and a "sufficiently developed" moral consciousness. We have seen, however, that this assumption is illusory. It cannot, consequently, be regarded as a _conditio sine quâ non_ for a moral judgment, unless, indeed, it be maintained that such a judgment, owing to its very nature, is necessarily a chimera--an opinion which, to my mind, would be simply absurd. But, though moral judgments cannot lay claim to universality or "objectivity," it does not follow that they are merely individual estimates. Even he who fully sees their limitations must admit that, when he pronounces an act to be good or bad, he gives expression to something more than a personal opinion, that his judgment has reference, not only to his own feelings, but to the feelings of others as well. And this is true even though he be aware that his own conviction is not shared by those around him, nor by anybody else. He then feels that it _would be_ shared if other people knew the act and all its attendant circumstances as well as he does himself, and if, at the same time, their emotions were as refined as are his own. This feeling gives to his approval or indignation a touch of generality, which belongs to public approval and public indignation, but which is never found in any merely individual emotion of gratitude or revenge. * * * * * The analysis of the moral emotions which has been attempted in this and the two preceding chapters, holds good, not only for such emotions as we feel on account of the conduct of others, but for such emotions as we feel on account of our own conduct as well. Moral self-condemnation is a hostile attitude of mind towards one's self as the cause of pain, moral self-approval is a kindly attitude of mind towards one's self as a cause of pleasure. Genuine remorse, though focussed on the will of the person who feels it, involves, vaguely or distinctly, some desire to suffer. The repentant man wants to think of the wrong he has committed, he wants clearly to realise {106} its wickedness; and he wants to do this, not merely because he desires to become a better man, but because it gives him some relief to feel the sting in his heart. If punished for his deed, he willingly submits to the punishment. The Philippine Islander, says Mr. Foreman, if he recognises a fault by his own conscience, will receive a flogging without resentment or complaint, although, "if he is not so convinced of the misdeed, he will await his chance to give vent to his rancour."[14] We may feel actual hatred towards ourselves, we may desire to inflict bodily suffering upon ourselves as a punishment for what we have done;[15] nay, there are instances of criminals, guilty of capital offences, having given themselves up to the authorities in order to appease their consciences by suffering the penalty of the law.[16] Yet the desire to punish ourselves has a natural antagonist in our general aversion to pain, and this often blunts the sting of the conscience. Suicide prompted by remorse, which sometimes occurs even among savages,[17] is to be regarded rather as a method of putting an end to agonies, than as a kind of self-execution; and behind the self-torments of the sinner frequently lurks the hopeful prospect of heavenly bliss. Self-approval, again, is not merely joy at one's own conduct, but is a kindly emotion, a friendly attitude towards one's self. Such an attitude, for instance, lies at the bottom of the feeling that one's own conduct merits praise or reward. [Footnote 14: Foreman, _Philippine Islands_, p. 185. _Cf._ Hinde, _The Last of the Masai_, p. 34; Zöller, _Das Togoland_, p. 37.] [Footnote 15: _Cf._ Jodl, _Lehrbuch der Psychologie_, p. 675.] [Footnote 16: von Feuerbach, _Aktenmässige Darstellung merkwürdiger Verbrechen_, i. 249; ii. 473, 479 _sq._ von Lasaulx, _Sühnopfer der Griechen und Römer_, p. 6.] [Footnote 17: See _infra_, on Suicide.] Not every form of self-reproach or of self-approval is a moral emotion--no more than is every form of resentment or retributive kindly emotion towards other persons. We may be angry with ourselves on account of some act of ours which is injurious to our own interests. He who has lost at play may be as vexed at himself as he who has {107} cheated at play, and the egoist may bitterly reproach himself for having yielded to a momentary impulse of benevolence, or even to conscience itself. In order to be moral emotions, our self-condemnation and self-approval must present the same characteristics as make resentment and retributive kindliness moral emotions when they are felt with reference to the conduct of other people. A person does not feel remorse when he reproaches himself from an egoistic motive, or when he afterwards regrets that he has sacrificed the interests of his children to the impartial claim of justice. Nor does a person feel moral self-approval when he is pleased with himself for having committed an act which he recognises as selfish or unjust. And besides being disinterested and apparently impartial, remorse and moral self-approval have a flavour of generality. As Professor Baldwin remarks, moral approval or disapproval, not only of other people, but of one's self, "is never at its best except when it is accompanied, in the consciousness which has it, with the knowledge or belief that it is also socially shared."[18] Indeed, almost inseparable from the moral judgments which we pass on our own conduct seems to be the image of an impartial outsider who acts as our judge. [Footnote 18: Baldwin, _Social and Ethical Interpretation in Mental Development_, p. 314.] CHAPTER V THE ORIGIN OF THE MORAL EMOTIONS WE have found that resentment and retributive kindly emotion are easily explicable from their usefulness, both of them having a tendency to promote the interests of the individuals who feel them. This explanation also holds good for the moral emotions, in so far as they are retributive emotions: it accounts for the hostile attitude of moral disapproval towards the cause of pain, and for the friendly attitude of moral approval towards the cause of pleasure. But it still remains for us to discover the origin of those elements in the moral emotions by which they are distinguished from other, non-moral, retributive emotions. First, how shall we explain their disinterestedness? We have to distinguish between different classes of conditions under which disinterested retributive emotions arise. In the first place, we may feel disinterested resentment, or disinterested retributive kindly emotion, on account of an injury inflicted, or a benefit conferred, upon another person with whose pain, or pleasure, we sympathise, and in whose welfare we take a kindly interest. Our retributive emotions are, of course, always reactions against pain, or pleasure, felt by ourselves; this holds true for the moral emotions as well as for revenge and gratitude. The question to be answered, then, is, Why should we, quite disinterestedly, feel pain calling forth indignation because our neighbour is hurt, and pleasure calling forth approval because he is benefited? {109} That a certain act causes pleasure or pain to the by-stander is partly due to the close association which exists between these feelings and their outward expressions. The sight of a happy face tends to produce some degree of pleasure in him who sees it; the sight of the bodily signs of suffering tends to produce a feeling of pain. In either case the feeling of the spectator is the result of a process of reproduction, the perception of the physical manifestation of the feeling recalling the feeling itself on account of the established association between them. Sympathetic pain or pleasure may also be the result of an association between cause and effect, between the cognition of a certain act or situation and the feeling generally produced by this act or situation. A blow may cause pain to the spectator before he has witnessed its effect on the victim. The sympathetic feeling is of course stronger when both kinds of association concur in producing it, than when it is the result of only one. As Adam Smith observes, "general lamentations which express nothing but the anguish of the sufferer, create rather a curiosity to inquire into his situation, along with some disposition to sympathise with him, than any actual sympathy that is very sensible."[1] On the other hand, the sympathy which springs from an association between cause and effect is much enhanced by the perception of outward signs of pleasure or pain in the individual with whom we sympathise. [Footnote 1: Adam Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 7.] But the sympathetic feeling which results from association alone is not what is generally understood by sympathy. Arising merely from the habitual connection of certain cognitions with certain feelings in the experience of the spectator, it is, strictly speaking, not at all concerned with the _feelings_ of the other person. It is not a reflex of what he feels--which, indeed, is a matter of complete indifference--and the activity which it calls forth is thoroughly selfish. If it is a feeling of pain, the spectator naturally, for his own sake, tries to get rid of it; but this {110} may be done by turning the back upon the sufferer, and looking out for some diversion. The sympathetic feeling which springs from association alone, may also produce a benevolent or hostile reaction against its immediate cause: the smiling face often evokes a kindly feeling towards the smiler, and "the sight of suffering often directs irritation against the sufferer."[2] In such cases it is the other person himself, rather than his benefactor or his tormentor, that is regarded as cause by the sympathiser. When based on association alone, the sympathetic feeling thus lacks the most vital characteristic of sympathy, in the popular sense of the term: it lacks kindliness.[3] [Footnote 2: Leslie Stephen, _Science of Ethics_, p. 243.] [Footnote 3: The difference between sympathy and kindly ("tender") emotion has been commented upon by Professor Ribot (_Psychology of the Emotions_, p. 233), and by Mr. Shand, in his excellent chapter on the 'Sources of Tender Emotion,' in Stout's _Groundwork of Psychology_, p. 198 _sqq._] Sympathy, in the ordinary use of the word, requires the co-operation of the altruistic sentiment or affection--a disposition of mind which is particularly apt to display itself as kindly emotion towards other beings. This sentiment,[4] only, induces us to take a kindly interest in the feelings of our neighbours. It involves a tendency, or willingness, and, when strongly developed, gives rise to an eager desire, to sympathise with their pains and pleasures. Under its influence, our sympathetic feeling is no longer a mere matter of association; we take an active part in its production, we direct our attention to any circumstance which we believe may affect the feelings of the person whom we love, to any external manifestation of his emotions. We are anxious to find out his joys and sorrows, so as to be able to rejoice with him and to suffer with him, and, especially, when he stands in need of it, to console or to help him. For the altruistic sentiment is not merely willingness to sympathise; it is above all a conative {111} disposition to do good. The latter aptitude must be regarded rather as the cause than as the result of the former; affection is not, as Adam Smith maintained,[5] merely habitual sympathy, or its necessary consequence. It is true that sympathetic pain, unaided by kindliness, may induce a person to relieve the suffering of his neighbour, instead of shutting his eyes to it; but then he does so, not out of regard to the feelings of the sufferer, but simply to free himself of a painful cognition. Nor must it be supposed that the altruistic sentiment prompts to assistance only by strengthening the sympathetic feeling. The sight of the wounded traveller may have caused no less pain to the Pharisee than to the good Samaritan; yet it would have been impossible for the Samaritan to dismiss his pain by going away, since he felt a desire to assist the wounded, and his desire would have been left ungratified if he had not stopped by the wayside. To the egoist, the relief offered to the sufferer is a means of suppressing the sympathetic pain; to the altruist, the sympathetic pain is, so to say, a means of giving relief. The altruist wants to know, to feel the pain of his neighbour, because he desires to help him. Why are the most kind-hearted people often the most cheerful, if not because they think of alleviating the misery of their fellow-creatures, instead of indulging in the sympathetic pain which it evokes? [Footnote 4: I use the word "sentiment" in the sense proposed by Mr. Shand, in his article, 'Character and the Emotions,' in _Mind_, N.S. v. 203 _sqq._, and adopted by Professor Stout, _op. cit._ p. 221 _sqq._ Sentiments cannot be actually felt at any one moment; "they are complex mental dispositions, and may, as divers occasions arise, give birth to the whole gamut of the emotions" (_ibid._ p. 223 _sq._).] [Footnote 5: Adam Smith, _op. cit._ p. 323.] It is obvious, then, that sympathy aided by the altruistic sentiment--sympathy in the common sense--tends to produce disinterested retributive emotions. When we to some extent identify, as it were, our feelings with those of our neighbour, we naturally look upon any person who causes him pleasure or pain as the cause of our sympathetic pleasure or pain, and are apt to experience towards that person a retributive emotion similar in kind, if not always in degree, to the emotion which we feel when we are ourselves benefited or injured. In all animal species which possess altruistic sentiments in some form or other, we may be sure to find sympathetic resentment as their accompaniment. {112} A mammalian mother is as hostile to the enemy of her young as to her own enemy. Among social animals whose gregarious instinct has developed into social affection,[6] sympathetic resentment is felt towards the enemy of any member of the group; they mutually defend each other, and this undoubtedly involves some degree of sympathetic anger. With reference to animals in confinement and domesticated animals, many striking instances of this emotion might be quoted, even in cases when injuries have been inflicted on members of different species to which they have become attached. Professor Romanes' terrier, "whenever or wherever he saw a man striking a dog, whether in the house, or outside, near at hand or at a distance, . . . . used to rush in to interfere, snarling and snapping in a most threatening way."[7] Darwin makes mention of a little American monkey in the Zoological Gardens of London which, when seeing a great baboon attack his friend, the keeper, rushed to the rescue and by screams and bites so distracted the baboon, that the man was able to escape.[8] The dog who flies at any one who strikes, or even touches, his master, is a very familiar instance of sympathetic resentment. The Rev. Charles Williams mentions a dog at Liverpool who saved a cat from the hands of some young ruffians who were maltreating it: he rushed in among the boys, barked furiously at them, terrified them into flight, and carried the cat off in his mouth, bleeding and almost senseless, to his kennel, where he laid it on the straw, and nursed it.[9] In man, sympathetic resentment begins at an early age. Professor Sully mentions a little boy under four who was indignant at any picture where an animal suffered.[10] [Footnote 6: The connection between social affection and the gregarious instinct will be discussed in a subsequent chapter.] [Footnote 7: Romanes, _Animal Intelligence_, p. 440.] [Footnote 8: Darwin, _Descent of Man_, p. 103. _Cf._ Fisher, in _Revue Scientifique_, xxxiii. 618. A curious instance of a terrier "avenging" the death of another terrier, his inseparable friend, is mentioned by Captain Medwin (_Angler in Wales_, ii. 162-164, 197, 216 _sq._).] [Footnote 9: Williams, _Dogs and their Ways_, p. 43.] [Footnote 10: Sully, _Studies of Childhood_, p. 250.] The altruistic sentiments of mankind will be treated at {113} length in subsequent chapters. We shall find reason to believe that not only maternal, but to some extent, paternal and conjugal affection, prevailed in the human race from ancient times, and that social affection arose in those days when the conditions of life became favourable to an expansion of the early family, when the chief obstacle to a gregarious life--scarcity of food--was overcome, and sociality, being an advantage to man, became his habit. There are still savages who live in families rather than in tribes, but we know of no people among whom social organisation outside the family is totally wanting. Later discoveries only tend to confirm Darwin's statement that, though single families or only two or three together, roam the solitudes of some savage lands, they always hold friendly relations with other families inhabiting the same district; such families occasionally meeting in council and uniting for their common defence.[11] But as a general rule, to which there are few exceptions, the lower races live in communities larger than family groups, and all the members of the community are united with one another by common interests and common feelings. Of the harmony, mutual good-will, and sense of solidarity, which under normal conditions prevail in these societies, much evidence will be adduced in following pages. Mr. Melville's remark with reference to some Marquesas cannibals may be quoted as to some extent typical. "With them," he says, "there hardly appeared to be any difference of opinion upon any subject whatever. . . . They showed this spirit of unanimity in every action of life: everything was done in concert and good fellowship."[12] When a member of the group is hurt, the feeling of unanimity takes the form of public resentment. As Robertson observed long ago, "in small communities, every man is touched with the injury or affront offered to the body of which he is a member, as if it were a personal attack upon his own honour or safety. The desire of revenge is communicated from breast to breast, {114} and soon kindles into rage."[13] Speaking of some Australian savages, Mr. Fison remarks:--"To the savage, the whole gens is the individual, and he is full of regard for it. Strike the gens anywhere, and every member of it considers himself struck, and the whole body corporate rises up in arms against the striker."[14] Nobody will deny that there is a disinterested element in this public resentment, even though every member of the group consider the enemy of any other member to be actually his own enemy as well, and, partly, hate him as such. [Footnote 11: Darwin, _op. cit._ p. 108.] [Footnote 12: Melville, _Typee_, p. 297 _sq._] [Footnote 13: Robertson, _History of America_, i. 350. _Cf._ Clifford's theory of the "tribal self" (_Lectures and Essays_, p. 290 _sqq._). He says (_ibid._ p. 291), "The savage is not only hurt when anybody treads on his foot, but when anybody treads on his tribe."] [Footnote 14: Fison and Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 170.] Our explanation of what has here been called "sympathetic resentment," however, is not yet complete. This emotion, as we have seen, may be a reaction against sympathetic pain; but it may also be directly produced by the cognition of the signs of anger. In the former case it is, strictly speaking, independent of the _emotion_ of the injured individual; we may feel resentment on his behalf though he himself feels none. In the latter case it is a reflected emotion, felt independently of the cause of the original emotion of which it is a reflection--as when the yells and shrieks of a street dog-fight are heard, and dogs from all sides rush to the spot, each dog being apparently ready to bite any of the others. In the former case, it is, by the medium of sympathetic pain, closely connected with the inflicted injury; in the latter case it may even be the reflection of an emotion which is itself sympathetic, and the origin of which is perhaps out of sight. In an infuriated crowd the one gets angry because the other is angry, and very often the question, Why? is hardly asked. This form of sympathetic resentment is of considerable importance both as an originator and as a communicator of moral ideas. To teach that a certain act is wrong is to teach that it is an object, and a proper object, of moral indignation, and the aim of the instructor {115} is to inspire a similar indignation in the mind of the pupil. An intelligent teacher tries to attain this end by representing the act in such a light as to evoke disapproval independently of any appeal to authority; but, unfortunately, in many cases where the duties of current morality are to be enjoined, he cannot do so--for a very obvious reason. Of various acts which, though inoffensive by themselves, are considered wrong, he can say little more than that they are forbidden by God and man; and if, nevertheless, such acts are not only professed, but actually felt, to be wrong, that is due to the fact that men are inclined to sympathise with the resentment of persons for whom they feel regard. It is this fact that accounts for the connection between the punishment of an act and the consequent idea that it deserves to be punished. We shall see that the punishment which society inflicts is, as a rule, an expression of its moral indignation; but there are instances in which the order is reversed, and in which human, or, as it may be supposed, divine, punishment or anger is the cause, and moral disapproval the effect. Children, as everybody knows, grow up with their ideas of right and wrong graduated, to a great extent, according to the temper of the father or mother;[15] and men are not seldom, as Hobbes said, "like little children, that have no other rule of good and evill manners, but the correction they receive from their Parents, and Masters."[16] The case is the same with any outbreak of public resentment, with any punishment inflicted by society at large. However selfish it may be in its origin, to whatever extent it may spring from personal motives, it always has a tendency to become in some degree disinterested, each individual not only being angry on his own behalf, but at the same time reflecting the anger of everybody else. [Footnote 15: _Cf._ Baring-Gould, _Origin and Developwent of Religious Belief_, i. 212.] [Footnote 16: Hobbes, _Leviathan_, i. 2, p. 76.] Any means of expressing resentment may serve as a communicator of the emotion. Besides punishment, language deserves special mention. Moral disapproval may {116} be evoked by the very sounds of certain words, like "murder," "theft," "cowardice," and others, which not merely indicate the commission of certain acts, but also express the opprobrium attached to them. By being called a "liar," a person is more disgraced than by any plain statement of his untruthfulness; and by the use of some strong word the orator raises the indignation of a sympathetic audience to its pitch. All the cases of disinterested resentment which we have hitherto considered fall under the heading of sympathetic resentment. But there are other cases into which sympathy does not enter at all. Resentment is not always caused by the infliction of an injury; it may be called forth by any feeling of pain traceable to a living being as its direct or indirect cause. Quite apart from our sympathy with the sufferings of others, there are many cases in which we feel hostile towards a person on account of some act of his which in no way interferes with our interests, which conflicts with no self-regarding feeling of ours. There are in the human mind what Professor Bain calls "disinterested antipathies," sentimental aversions "of which our fellow-beings are the subjects, and on account of which we overlook our own interest quite as much as in displaying our sympathies and affections."[17] Differences of taste, habit, and opinion, are particularly apt to create similar dislikes, which, as will be seen, have played a very prominent part in the moulding of the moral consciousness. When a certain act, though harmless by itself (apart from the painful impression it makes upon the spectator), fills us with disgust or horror, we may feel no less inclined to inflict harm upon the agent, than if he had committed an offence against person, property, or good name. And here, again, our resentment is sympathetically increased by our observing a similar disgust in others. We are easily affected by the aversions and likings of our neighbours. As Tucker said, "we grow to love things we perceive {117} them fond of, and contract aversions from their dislikes."[18] [Footnote 17: Bain, _Emotions and the Will_, p. 268.] [Footnote 18: Tucker, _Light of Nature Pursued_, i. 154.] We have already seen that sympathy springing from an altruistic sentiment may produce, not only disinterested resentment, but disinterested retributive kindly emotion as well. When taking a pleasure in the benefit bestowed on our neighbour, we naturally look with kindness upon the benefactor; and just as sympathetic resentment may be produced by the cognition of the outward signs of resentment, so sympathetic retributive kindly emotion may be produced by the signs of retributive kindliness. Language communicates emotions by terms of praise, as well as by terms of condemnation; and a reward, like a punishment, tends to reproduce the emotion from which it sprang. Moreover, men have disinterested likings, as they have disinterested dislikes. As an instance of such likings may be mentioned the common admiration of courage when felt irrespectively of the object for which it is displayed. Having thus found the origin of disinterested retributive emotions, we have at the same time partly explained the origin of the moral emotions. But, as we have seen, disinterestedness is not the sole characteristic by which moral indignation and approval are distinguished from other retributive emotions: a moral emotion is assumed to be impartial, or, at least, is not knowingly partial, and it is coloured by the feeling of being publicly shared. However, the real problem which we have now to solve is not how retributive emotions may become apparently impartial and be coloured by a feeling of generality, but why disinterestedness, apparent impartiality, and the flavour of generality have become characteristics by which so-called moral emotions are distinguished from other retributive emotions. The solution of this problem lies in the fact that society is the birthplace of the moral consciousness; that the first moral judgments expressed, not the private emotions of isolated individuals, but emotions which were {118} felt by the society at large; that tribal custom was the earliest rule of duty. Customs have been defined as public habits, as the habits of a certain circle, a racial or national community, a rank or class of society. But whilst being a habit, custom is at the same time something else as well. It not merely involves a frequent repetition of a certain mode of conduct, it is also a rule of conduct. As Cicero observes, the customs of a people "are precepts in themselves."[19] We say that "custom commands," or "custom demands," and speak of it as "strict" and "inexorable"; and even when custom simply allows the commission of a certain class of actions, it implicitly lays down the rule that such actions are not to be interfered with. [Footnote 19: Cicero, _De Officiis_, i. 41.] The rule of custom is conceived of as a moral rule, which decides what is right and wrong.[20] "Les loix de la conscience," says Montaigne, "que nous disons naistre de nature, naissent de la coustume."[21] Mr. Howitt once said to a young Australian native with whom he was speaking about the food prohibited during initiation, "But if you were hungry and caught a female opossum, you might eat it if the old men were not there." The youth replied, "I could not do that; it would not be right"; and he could give no other reason than that it would be wrong to disregard the customs of his people.[22] Mr. Bernau says of the British Guiana Indians:--"Their moral sense of good and evil is entirely regulated by the customs and practices inherited from their forefathers. What their predecessors believed and did must have been right, and they deem it the height of presumption to suppose that any could think and act otherwise."[23] The moral evil of the pagan Greenlanders "was all that was contrary to laws and customs, as {119} regulated by the angakoks," and when the Danish missionaries tried to make them acquainted with their own moral conceptions, the result was that they "conceived the idea of virtue and sin as what was pleasing or displeasing to Europeans, as according or disaccording with their customs and laws."[24] "The Africans, like most heathens," Mr. Rowley observes, "do not regard sin, according to their idea of sin, as an offence against God, but simply as a transgression of the laws and customs of their country."[25] The Ba-Ronga call derogations of universally recognised custom _yila_, prohibited, tabooed.[26] The Bedouins of the Euphrates "make no appeal to conscience or the will of God in their distinctions between right and wrong, but appeal only to custom."[27] According to the laws of Manu, the custom handed down in regular succession since time immemorial "is called the conduct of virtuous men."[28] The Greek idea of the customary, [Greek: to\ no/mimon], shows the close connection between morality and custom; and so do the words [Greek: e)/thos, ê)/thos], and [Greek: e)thika/], the Latin _mos_ and _moralis_, the German _Sitte_ and _Sittlichkeit_.[29] Moreover, in early society, customs are not only moral rules, but the only moral rules ever thought of. The savage strictly complies with the Hegelian command that no man must have a private conscience. The following statement, which refers to the Tinnevelly Shanars, may be quoted as a typical example:--"Solitary individuals amongst them rarely adopt any new opinions, or any new course of procedure. They follow the multitude to do evil, and they follow the multitude to do good. They think in herds."[30] [Footnote 20: _Cf._ Austin, _Lectures on Jurisprudence_, i. 104; Tönnies, 'Philosophical Terminology,' in _Mind_, N.S., viii. 304. Von Jhering (_Zweck im Recht_, ii. 23) defines the German _Sitte_ as "die im Leben des Volks sich bildende verpflichtende Gewohnheit"; and a similar view is expressed by Wundt (_Ethik_, p. 128 _sq._).] [Footnote 21: Montaigne, _Essais_, i. 22 (_[OE]uvres_, p. 48).] [Footnote 22: Fison and Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 256 _sq._] [Footnote 23: Bernau, _Missionary Labours in British Guiana_, p. 60.] [Footnote 24: Rink, _Greenland_, p. 201 _sq._] [Footnote 25: Rowley, _Religion of the Africans_, p. 44.] [Footnote 26: Junod, _Ba-Ronga_, p. 477.] [Footnote 27: Blunt, _Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates_, ii. 224.] [Footnote 28: _Laws of Manu_, ii. 18.] [Footnote 29: For the history of these words, see Wundt, _op. cit._ p. 19 _sqq._ For other instances illustrating the moral character of custom, see Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Law and Customs_, p. 34 (Amaxosa); Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 94 (Kandhs); Kubary, _Ethnographische Beiträge zur Kenntniss der Karolinischen Inselgruppe_, i. 73 (Pelew Islanders); Smith, _Chinese Characteristics_, p. 119.] [Footnote 30: Caldwell, _Tinnevelly Shanars_, p. 69.] Disobedience to custom evokes public indignation. In {120} the lower stages of civilisation, especially, custom is a tyrant who binds man in iron fetters, and who threatens the transgressor, not only with general disgrace, but often with bodily suffering. "To believe that man in a savage state is endowed with freedom either of thought or action," says Sir G. Grey, "is erroneous in the highest degree";[31] and this statement is corroborated by an array of facts from all quarters of the savage world.[32] Now, as the rule of custom is a moral rule, the indignation aroused by its transgression is naturally a moral emotion. Moreover, where all the duties incumbent on a man are expressed in the customs of the society to which he belongs, it is obvious that the characteristics of moral indignation are to be sought for in its connection with custom. The most salient feature of custom is its generality. Its transgression calls forth public indignation; hence the flavour of generality which characterises moral disapproval. Custom is fixed once for all, and takes no notice of the preferences of individuals. By recognising the validity of a custom, I implicitly admit that the custom is equally binding for me and for you and for all the other members of the society. This involves disinterestedness; I admit that a breach of the custom is equally wrong whether I myself am immediately concerned in the act or not. It also involves apparent impartiality; I assume that my condemnation of the act is independent of the relationship in which the parties concerned in it stand to me personally, or, at least, I am not aware that my condemnation is influenced by any {121} such relationship. And this holds good whatever be the origin of the custom. Though customs are very frequently rooted in public sympathetic resentment or in public disinterested aversions, they may have a selfish and partial origin as well. At first the leading men of the society may have prohibited certain acts because they found them disadvantageous to themselves, or to those with whom they particularly sympathised. Where custom is an oppressor of women, this oppression may certainly be traced back to the selfishness of men. Where custom sanctions slavery, it is certainly not impartial to the slaves. Yet in the one case as in the other, I assume custom to be in the right, irrespectively of my own station, and I even expect the women and slaves themselves to be of the same opinion. Such an expectation is by no means a chimera. Under normal social conditions, largely owing to men's tendency to share sympathetically the resentment of their superiors, the customs of a society are willingly submitted to, and recognised as right, by the large majority of its members, whatever may be their station. Among the Rejangs of Sumatra, says Marsden, "a man without property, family, or connections, never, in the partiality of self-love, considers his own life as being of equal value with that of a man of substance."[33] However selfish, however partial a certain rule may be, it becomes a true custom, a moral rule, as soon as the selfishness or the partiality of its makers is lost sight of. [Footnote 31: Grey, _Journals of Expeditions in North-West and Western Australia_, ii. 217.] [Footnote 32: Tylor, 'Primitive Society,' in _Contemporary Review_, xxi. 706. _Idem_, _Anthropology_, p. 408 _sq._ Avebury, _Origin of Civilisation_, p. 466 _sqq._ Eyre, _Journals of Expeditions into Central Australia_, ii. 384, 385, 388. Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 51. Mathew, 'Australian Aborigines,' in _Jour. and Proceed. Roy. Soc. N.S. Wales_, xxiii. 398. _Idem_, _Eaglehawk and Crow_, p. 93. Taplin, 'Narrinyeri,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, pp. 35, 136 _sq._ Hawtrey, 'Lengua Indians of the Paraguayan Chaco,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 292. Murdoch, 'Ethnological Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 427 _sq._ (Point Barrow Eskimo). Holm, 'Ethnologisk Skizze af Angmagsalikerne,' in _Meddelelser om Grönland_, x. 85. Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 295. Johnston, _British Central Africa_, p. 452. New, _Life, Wanderings, and Labours in Eastern Africa_, p. 110 (Wanika). Scott Robertson, _Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 183 _sq._] [Footnote 33: Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 247.] It will perhaps be argued that, by deriving the characteristics of moral indignation from its connection with custom, we implicitly contradict our initial assumption that moral emotions lie at the bottom of all moral judgments. But it is not so. Custom is a moral rule only on account of the indignation called forth by its transgression. In its ethical aspect it is nothing but a generalisation of emotional tendencies, applied to certain modes of conduct, and transmitted from generation to generation. Public indignation lies at the bottom of it. In its capacity {122} of a rule of duty, custom, _mos_, is derived from the emotion to which it gave its name. As public indignation is the prototype of moral disapproval, so public approval, expressed in public praise, is the prototype of moral approval. Like public indignation, public approval is characterised by a flavour of generality, by disinterestedness, by apparent impartiality. But of these two emotions public indignation, being at the root of custom and leading to the infliction of punishment, is by far the more impressive. Hence it is not surprising that the term "moral" is etymologically connected with _mos_, which always implies the existence of a social rule the transgression of which evokes public indignation. Only by analogy it has come to be applied to the emotion of approval as well. Though taking their place in the system of human emotions as public emotions felt by the society at large, moral disapproval and approval have not always remained inseparably connected with the feelings of any special society. The unanimity of opinion which originally characterised the members of the same social unit was disturbed by its advancement in civilisation. Individuals arose who found fault with the moral ideas prevalent in the community to which they belonged, criticising those ideas on the basis of their own individual feelings. Such rebels are certainly no less justified in speaking in the name of morality true and proper, than is society itself. The emotions from which their opposition against public opinion springs may be, in nature, exactly similar to the approval or disapproval felt by the society at large, though they are called forth by different facts or, otherwise, differ from these emotions in degree. They may present the same disinterestedness and apparent impartiality--indeed, dissent from the established moral ideas largely rises from the conviction that the apparent impartiality of public feelings is an illusion. As will be seen, the evolution of the moral consciousness involves a progress in impartiality and justice; it tends towards an equalisation {123} of rights, towards an expansion of the circle within which the same moral rules are held applicable; and this process is in no small degree effected by the efforts made by high-minded individuals to raise public opinion to their own standard of right. Nay, as we have already noticed, individual moral feelings do not even lack that flavour of generality which characterises the resentment and approval felt unanimously by a body of men. Though, perhaps, persecuted by his own people as an outcast, the moral dissenter does not regard himself as the advocate of a mere private opinion.[34] Even when standing alone, he feels that his conviction is shared at least by an ideal society, by all those who see the matter as clearly as he does himself, and who are animated with equally wide sympathies, an equally broad sense of justice. Thus the moral emotions remain to the last public emotions--if not in reality, then as an ideal. [Footnote 34: _Cf._ Pollock, _Essays in Jurisprudence and Ethics_, p. 309.] The fact that the earliest moral emotions were public emotions implies that the original form of the moral consciousness cannot, as is often asserted, have been the individual's own conscience. Dr. Martineau's observation, that the inner springs of other men's actions may be read off only by inference from our own experience, by no means warrants his conclusion that the moral consciousness is at its origin engaged in self-estimation, instead of circuitously reaching this end through a prior critique upon our fellow-men.[35] The moral element which may be contained in the emotion of self-reproach or self-approval, is generally to such an extent mixed up with other and non-moral elements, that it can be disentangled only by a careful process of abstraction, guided by the feelings of other people with reference to our conduct or by our own feelings with reference to the conduct of others. The moral emotion of remorse presupposes some notion of right and wrong, and the application of this notion to one's own conduct. Hence it could never have {124} been distinguished as a special form of, or element in, the wider emotion of self-reproach, unless the idea of morality had been previously derived from another source. The similarity between regret and remorse is so close, that in certain European languages there is only one word for both.[36] [Footnote 35: Martineau, _Types of Ethical Theory_, ii. 29 _sqq._] [Footnote 36: As, in Swedish, the word _ånger_.] * * * * * From what has been said above it is obvious that moral resentment is of extreme antiquity in the human race, nay, that the germ of it is found even in the lower animal world, among social animals capable of feeling sympathetic resentment. The origin of custom as a moral rule no doubt lies in a very remote period of human history. We have no knowledge of a savage people without customs, and, as will be seen subsequently, savages often express their indignation in a very unmistakable manner when their customs are transgressed. Various data prove that the lower races have some feeling of justice, the flower of all moral feelings. And the supposition that remorse is unknown among them,[37] is not only unfounded, but contradicted by facts. Indeed, genuine remorse is so hidden an emotion even among ourselves, that it cannot be expected to be very conspicuous among savages. As we have seen, it requires a certain power of abstraction, as well as great impartiality of feeling, and must therefore be sought for at the highest reaches of the moral consciousness rather than at its lowest degrees. But to suppose that savages are entirely without a conscience is quite contrary to what we may infer from the great regard in which they hold their customs, as also contrary to the direct statements of travellers who have taken some pains to examine the matter. The answer given by the young Australian when asked by Mr. Howitt whether he might not eat a female opossum if the old men were not present,[38] certainly indicates conscientious respect for a moral rule, and is, as Mr. Fison observes, "a striking instance of that 'moral {125} feeling' which Sir John Lubbock denies to savages."[39] Dr. Hübbe-Schleiden asserts that, among the people whom he had in his service, he found the Negroes, in their sense of duty, not inferior, but rather superior to the Europeans.[40] Mr. New says of the Wanika:--"Conscience lives in them as the vicegerent of Almighty God, and is ever excusing or else accusing them. It may be blunted, hardened, resisted, and largely suppressed, but there it is."[41] M. Arbousset once desired some Bechuanas to tell him whether the blacks had a conscience. "Yes, all have one," they said in reply. "And what does it say to them?" "It is quiet when they do well and torments them when they sin." "What do you call sin?" "The theft, which is committed trembling, and the murder from which a man purifies and re-purifies himself, but which always leaves remorse."[42] Mr. Washington Matthews refers to a passage in a Navaho story which "shows us that he who composed this tale knew what the pangs of remorse might be, even for an act not criminal, as we consider it, but merely ungenerous and unfilial."[43] [Footnote 37: Avebury, _Origin of Civilisation_, pp. 421, 426.] [Footnote 38: See _supra_, p. 118.] [Footnote 39: Fison and Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 257 n.] [Footnote 40: Hübbe-Schleiden, _Ethiopien_, p. 184 _sq._] [Footnote 41: New, _op. cit._ p. 96.] [Footnote 42: Arbousset and Daumas, _Exploratory Tour to the North-East of the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope_, p. 322.] [Footnote 43: Matthews, 'Study of Ethics among the Lower Races,' in _Journal of American Folk-Lore_, xii. 7.] A different opinion as to the existence of moral feelings among savages has been expressed by Lord Avebury. To him even modern savages seem to be "almost entirely wanting in moral feeling"; and he says that he has "been forced to this conclusion, not only by the direct statements of travelers but by the general tenor of their remarks, and especially by the remarkable absence of repentance and remorse among the lower races of men."[44] The importance of the subject renders {126} it necessary to scrutinise the facts which Lord Avebury has adduced in support of his conclusion. [Footnote 44: Avebury, _op. cit._ pp. 414, 426. Lord Avebury quotes Burton's statement that in Eastern Africa, as also among the Yoruba negroes, conscience does not exist, and that "repentance" expresses regret for missed opportunities of mortal crime. Speaking of the stage of savagery represented by the Bakaïri, Dr. von den Steinen likewise observes (_Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens_, p. 351), "Goodness and badness exist only in the crude sense of doing to others what is agreeable or disagreeable, but the moral consciousness, and the ideal initiative, influenced neither by prospect of reward nor fear of punishment, are entirely lacking." Lippert maintains (_Kulturgeschichte der Menschheit_, i. 27) "dass sich das Gewissen beim Naturmenschen nicht als 'Selbsttadel,' sondern nur als Furcht zeigt."] Mr. Neighbors states that, among the Comanches of Texas, "no individual action is considered a crime, but every man acts for himself according to his own judgment, unless some superior power--for instance, that of a popular chief--should exercise authority over him." Another writer says, "The Redskin has no moral sense whatever." Among the Basutos, according to Casalis, morality "depends so entirely upon social order that all political disorganisation is immediately followed by a state of degeneracy, which the re-establishment of order alone can rectify." Similar accounts are given as regards Central Africa and some other places. Thus at Jenna, and in the surrounding districts, "whenever a town is deprived of its chief, the inhabitants acknowledge no law--anarchy, troubles, and confusion immediately prevail, and till a successor is appointed all labour is at an end." The Damaras "seem to have no perceptible notion of right or wrong." The Tasmanians were "without any moral views and impressions." Eyre says of the Australians that they have "no moral sense of what is just and equitable in the abstract"; and a missionary had very great difficulty in conveying to those natives any idea of sin. The Kacharis had "in their own language no words for sin, for piety, for prayer, for repentance"; and of another of the aboriginal tribes of India Mr. Campbell remarks that they "are . . . said to be without moral sense." Lord Avebury in this connection even quotes a statement to the effect that the expressions which the Tonga Islanders have for ideas like vice and injustice "are equally applicable to other things." The South American Indians of the Gran Chaco are said by the missionaries to "make no distinction between right and wrong, and have therefore neither fear nor hope of any present or future punishment or reward, nor any mysterious terror of some supernatural power." Finally, Lord Avebury observes that religion, except in the more advanced races, has no moral aspect or influence, that the deities are almost invariably regarded as evil, and that the belief in a future state is not at first associated with reward or punishment.[45] [Footnote 45: Avebury, _op. cit._ p. 417 _sqq._] Many of the facts referred to by Lord Avebury do not at all presuppose the absence of moral feelings. It is difficult to see why the malevolence of gods should prevent men from having notions of right and wrong, and we know from the Old Testament itself that there may be a moral law without Paradise {127} and Hell. The statement concerning the Comanches only implies that, among them, individual freedom is great; whilst the social disorder which prevails among various peoples at times of political disorganisation indicates that the cohesiveness of the political aggregate is weak, as well as a certain discrepancy between moral ideas and moral practice. In Morocco, also, the death of a Sultan is immediately followed by almost perfect anarchy, and yet the people recognise both the moral tenets of the Koran and the still more stringent tenets of their ancient customs. As to the Basutos, Casalis expressly states that they have the idea of moral evil, and represent it in their language by words which mean ugliness, or damage, or debt, or incapacity;[46] and M. Arbousset once heard a Basuto say, on an unjust judgment being pronounced, "The judge is powerful, therefore we must be silent; if he were weak, we should all cry out about his injustice."[47] Moreover, a people may be unconscious of what is just "in the abstract," and of moral "notions," in the strict sense of the term, and at the same time, in concrete cases, distinguish between right and wrong, just and unjust. Of the Western Australians, Mr. Chauncy expressly says that they have a keen sense of justice, and mentions an instance of it;[48] whilst our latest authorities on the Central Australians observe that, though their moral code differs radically from ours, "it cannot be denied that their conduct is governed by it, and that any known breaches are dealt with both surely and severely."[49] As regards the Tonga Islanders, Mariner states that "their ideas of honour and justice do not very much differ from ours except in degree, they considering some things more honourable than we should, and others much less so"; and in another place he says that "the notions of the Tonga people, in respect to honour and justice . . . are tolerably well defined, steady and universal," though not always acted upon.[50] The statement that the American Indians have "no moral sense whatever," sounds very strange when compared with what is known about their social and moral life; Buchanan, for instance, asserts that they "have a strong innate sense of justice."[51] Of course, there may be diversity of opinion as to what constitutes the "moral sense"; if the conception of sin or other theological notions are regarded as essential to it, it is probably {128} wanting in a large portion of mankind, and not only in the least civilised. When missionaries or travellers deny to certain savages moral feelings and ideas, they seem chiefly to mean feelings or ideas similar to their own. [Footnote 46: Casalis, _Basutos_, p. 304.] [Footnote 47: Arbousset and Daumas, _op. cit._ p. 389.] [Footnote 48: Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, ii. 228.] [Footnote 49: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 46.] [Footnote 50: Mariner, _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 159, 163.] [Footnote 51: Buchanan, _Sketches of the History, &c., of the North American Indians_, p. 158.] Of many savage and barbarous peoples it is directly affirmed that they have a sense of justice. Mr. Man says concerning the Andaman Islanders, "Certain traits which have been noticeable in their dealings with us would give colour to the belief that they are not altogether lacking in the sense of honour, and have some faint idea of the meaning of justice."[52] Colonel Dalton states that, among the Korwás on the highlands of Sirgúja, when several persons are implicated in one offence, he has found them "most anxious that to each should be ascribed his fair share of it, and no more, the oldest of the party invariably taking on himself the chief responsibility as leader or instigator, and doing his utmost to exculpate as unaccountable agents the young members of the gang."[53] The Aleuts, according to Veniaminof, are "naturally inclined to be just," and feel deeply undeserved injuries.[54] Kolben, who is nowadays recognised as a good authority,[55] wrote of the Hottentots, "The strictness and celerity of the Hottentot justice are things in which they outshine all Christendom."[56] Missionaries have wondered that, among the Zulus, "in the absence for ages of all revealed truth and all proper religious instruction, there should still remain so much of mental integrity, so much ability to discern truth and justice, and withal so much regard for these principles in their daily intercourse with one another."[57] Zöller ascribes to the Negro a well-developed feeling of justice. "No European," he says, "at least no European child, could discriminate so keenly between just and unjust punishment."[58] Mr. Hinde observes:--"One of the most marked characteristics of black people is their keen perception of justice. They do not resent merited punishment where it is coupled with justice upon other matters. The Masai have their sense of justice particularly strongly developed."[59] Dieffenbach writes of the Maoris, "There is a high natural sense of justice amongst them; {129} and it is from us that they have learnt that many forbidden things can be done with impunity, if they can only be kept secret."[60] Justice is a virtue which always commands respect among the Bedouins, and "injustice on the part of those in power is almost impossible. Public opinion at once asserts itself; and the Sheykh, who should attempt to override the law, would speedily find himself deserted."[61] [Footnote 52: Man, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 92.] [Footnote 53: Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 230.] [Footnote 54: Veniaminof, quoted by Dall, _Alaska_, p. 398.] [Footnote 55: Theophilus Hahn remarks (_The Supreme Being of the Khoi-Khoi_, p. 40) that Kolben's reports have been doubted by European writers without any good reason.] [Footnote 56: Kolben, _Present State of the Cape of Good Hope_, i. 301. _Cf._ _ibid._ i. 339.] [Footnote 57: Quoted by Tyler, _Forty Years among the Zulus_, p. 197.] [Footnote 58: Zöller, _Kamerun_, ii. 92. _Cf._ _Idem_, _Das Togoland_, p. 37.] [Footnote 59: Hinde, _The Last of the Masai_, p. 34. _Cf._ Foreman, _Philippine Islands_, p. 185.] [Footnote 60: Dieffenbach, _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 106.] [Footnote 61: Blunt, _Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates_, ii. 224 _sqq._] Much less conspicuous than the emotion of public resentment is the emotion of public approval. These public emotions are largely of a sympathetic character, and, whilst a tendency to sympathetic resentment is always involved in the sentiment of social affection, a tendency to sympathetic retributive kindly emotion is not. Among the lower animals this latter emotion seems hardly to occur at all, and in men it is often deplorably defective. Resentment towards an enemy is itself, as a rule, a much stronger emotion than retributive kindly emotion towards a friend. And, as for the sympathetic forms of these emotions, it is not surprising that the altruistic sentiment is more readily moved by the sight of pain than by the sight of pleasure,[62] considering that its fundamental object is to be a means of protection for the species. Moreover, sympathetic retributive kindliness has powerful rivals in the feelings of jealousy and envy, which tend to make the individual hostile both towards him who is the object of a benefit and towards him who bestows it. As an ancient writer observes, "many suffer with their friends when the friends are in distress, but are envious of them when they prosper."[63] But though these circumstances are a hindrance to the rise of retributive kindly emotions of a sympathetic kind, they do not prevent public approval in a case when the whole society profits by a benefit, nor have they any bearing on those disinterested instinctive likings of which I have spoken above. I think, then, we may {130} safely conclude that public praise and moral approval occurred, to some degree, even in the infancy of human society. It will appear from numerous facts recorded in following chapters, that the moral consciousness of modern savages contains not only condemnation, but praise. [Footnote 62: _Cf._ Jodl, _Lehrbuch der Psychologie_, p. 686.] [Footnote 63: Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, i. 259.] CHAPTER VI ANALYSIS OF THE PRINCIPAL MORAL CONCEPTS WE have assumed that the moral concepts are essentially generalisations of tendencies in certain phenomena to call forth moral emotions. We have further assumed that there are two kinds of moral emotions: indignation and approval. If these assumptions hold good, either indignation or approval must be at the bottom of every moral concept. That such is really the case will, I think, become evident from the present chapter, in which the principal of those concepts will be analysed. Our analysis will be concerned with moral concepts formed by the civilised mind. Whilst the most representative of English terms for moral estimates have equivalents in the other European languages, I do not take upon myself to decide to what extent they have equivalents in non-European tongues. That all existing peoples, even the very lowest, have moral emotions is as certain as that they have customs, and there can be no doubt that they give expression to those emotions in their speech. But it is another question how far their emotions have led to such generalisations as are implied in moral concepts. Concerning the Fuegians M. Hyades observes, "Les idées abstraites sont chez eux à peu près nulles. Il est difficile de définir exactement ce qu'ils appellent un homme bon et un homme méchant; mais à coup sûr ils n'ont pas la notion de ce qui est bon ou mauvais, abstraction faite de l'individu ou de l'objet auquel ils appliqueraient l'un ou l'autre {132} de ces attributs."[1] The language of the Californian Karok, though rich in its vocabulary, is said to possess no equivalent for "virtue."[2] In the aboriginal tongues of the highlanders of Central India "there seem to be no expressions for abstract ideas, the few such which they possess being derived from the Hindí. . . . . The nomenclature of religious ceremony, of moral qualities, and of nearly all the arts of life they possess, are all Hindí."[3] On a strict examination of the language of the Tonga Islanders, Mariner could discover "no words essentially expressive of some of the higher qualities of human merit, as virtue, justice, humanity; nor of the contrary, as vice, injustice, cruelty, &c. They have indeed expressions for these ideas," he adds, but these expressions "are equally applicable to other things. To express a virtuous or good man, they would say, _tangata lillé_, a good man, or _tangata loto lillé_, a man with a good mind; but the word lillé, good (unlike our word virtuous), is equally applicable to an axe, canoe, or anything else."[4] Of the Australian natives about Botany Bay and Port Jackson Collins wrote, "That they have ideas of a distinction between good and bad is evident from their having terms in their language significant of these qualities." A fish of which they never ate, was _wee-re_, or bad, whereas the kangaroo was _bood-yer-re_, or good; and these expressions were used not only for qualities which they perceived by their senses, but for all kinds of badness and goodness, and were the only terms they had for wrong and right. "Their enemies were wee-re; their friends bood-yer-re. On our speaking of cannibalism, they expressed great horror at the mention, and said it was wee-re. On seeing any of our people punished or reproved for ill-treating them, they expressed their approbation, and said it was bood-yer-re, it was right."[5] [Footnote 1: Hyades and Deniker, _Mission scientifique du Cap Horn_, vii. 251.] [Footnote 2: Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 22.] [Footnote 3: Forsyth, _Highlands of Central India_, p. 139.] [Footnote 4: Mariner, _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 147 _sq._] [Footnote 5: Collins, _English Colony in New South Wales_, i. 548 _sq._] {133} Considering, moreover, that even the European languages make use of such general terms as "good" and "bad" for the purpose of expressing moral qualities, it seems likely that, originally, moral concepts were not clearly differentiated from other more comprehensive generalisations, and that they assumed a more definite shape only by slow degrees. At the same time we must not expect to find the beginning of this process reflected in the vocabularies of languages. There is every reason to believe that a savage practically distinguishes between the "badness" of a man and the "badness" of a piece of food, although he may form no clear idea of the distinction. As Professor Wundt observes, "the phenomena of language do not admit of direct translation back again into ethical processes: the ideas themselves are different from their vehicles of expression, and here as everywhere the external mark is later than the internal act for which it stands."[6] Language is a rough generaliser; even superficial resemblance between different phenomena often suffices to establish linguistic identity between them. Compare the rightness of a line with the rightness of conduct, the wrongness of an opinion with the wrongness of an act. And notice the different significations given to the verb "ought" in the following sentences:--"They ought to be in town by this time, as the train left Paris last night"; "If you wish to be healthy you ought to rise early"; "You ought always to speak the truth." Though it may be shown that in these statements the predicate "ought" signifies something which they all have in common--the reference to a rule,[7]--we must by no means assume that this constitutes the essence of the moral "ought," or gives us the clue to its origin. [Footnote 6: Wundt, _Ethik_, p. 36 (English translation, p. 44).] [Footnote 7: _Cf._ Stephen, _Liberty, Equality, Fraternity_, p. 343 _sq._] Discarding all questions of etymology as irrelevant to our subject,[8] we shall, in our analysis of moral concepts, {134} endeavour to fix the true import of each concept by examining how, and under what circumstances, the term expressing it is generally applied. We shall restrict ourselves to the principal, typical terms which are used as predicates in moral judgments. If we succeed in proving that they are all fundamentally derived from either moral indignation or moral approval, there can be no reasonable doubt as to the origin of the rest. [Footnote 8: The attempt to apply the philological method to an examination of moral concepts has, in my opinion, proved a failure--which may be seen from Mr. Baynes' book on _The Idea of God and the Moral Sense in the Light of Language_.] The tendency in a phenomenon to arouse moral indignation is directly expressed by the term _bad_, and a disposition of mind which is characterised by some special kind of badness is called _vice_. Closely allied to the term "bad" is the term _wrong_. But there is a difference in the use of these words. Whilst "bad" may be applied both to a person's character and to his conduct, only his conduct may be said to be "wrong." The reason for this is that the concept of moral wrongness is modelled on the idea of a moral law, the breach of which is regarded as "wrong." And, by laying down a moral law, we only enjoin a certain mode of conduct; we do not command a person to have a certain character. The moral law is expressed by the term _ought_, a term which, in modern ethics, generally occupies a central position among moral predicates. The notion which it embodies is frequently looked upon as ultimate and incapable of analysis--"too elementary" (to quote Professor Sidgwick) "to admit of any formal definition."[9] This view, I think, instead of simplifying the matter, has been one of the chief causes of the prevailing confusion in ethical thought. [Footnote 9: Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_, p. 33.] Far from being a simple notion, "ought" appears to me clearly decomposable, even though it have a special flavour of its own. First of all, it expresses a conation. When I feel that I ought to do a thing, I experience an impulse to do it, even though some opposite impulse may finally determine my action. And when I say to another man, "You ought to do this, or that," there is certainly implied {135} a purpose to influence his action in a certain direction. In the notion of _duty_, the ethical import of which is identical with that of "ought," this conative element is not so obvious. Closely connected with the conative nature of "ought" is the imperative character it is apt to assume. But, though frequently used imperatively, "ought" is not necessarily and essentially imperative. Even if the "ought" which I address to myself, in a figurative sense, may be styled a command, it is hardly appropriate to speak of a present command with reference to past actions. The common phrase, "You ought to have done this, or that," cannot be called a command. The conation expressed in "ought" is determined by the idea that the mode of conduct which ought to be performed is not, or will possibly not be, performed. It is also this idea of its not being performed that determines the emotion which gives to "ought" the character of a moral predicate. The doing of what ought not to be done, or the omission of what ought not to be omitted, is apt to call forth moral indignation--this is the most essential fact involved in the notion of "ought." Every "ought"-judgment contains implicitly a negation. Nobody would ever have dreamt of laying down a moral rule if the idea of its transgression had not presented itself to his mind. We may reverse the words of the Apostle,[10] and say that where no transgression is, there is no law. When Solon was asked why he had specified no punishment for one who had murdered a father, he replied that he supposed it could not occur to any man to commit such a crime.[11] Similarly, the modern Shintoist concludes that the primæval Japanese were pure and holy from the fact that they are represented as a people who had no moral commandments.[12] It is this prohibitive character of "ought" that has imparted to duty that idea of antagonism to inclination which has found its most famous expression {136} in the Kantian ethics, and which made Bentham look upon the word itself as having in it "something disagreeable and repulsive."[13] It is the intrinsic connection between "ought" and "wrong" that has given to duty the most prominent place in ethical speculation whenever moral pessimism has been predominant. Whilst the ancient Greeks, with whom happiness was the state of nature, never spoke of duty, but held virtue to be the Supreme Good, Christianity, on the other hand, which looked upon man as a being born and bred in sin, regarded morals pre-eminently as the science of duty. Then, again, in modern times, Kant's categorical imperative came as a reaction against that moral optimism which once more had given the preference to virtue, considering everything in the world or in humanity as beautiful and good from the very beginning.[14] It is also worth noting that the feeling of self-complacency connected with the consciousness of having acted in accordance with the law of duty, has no distinctively expressive name in ordinary language, while the opposite feeling is known by so familiar and distinctive a term as "remorse." This is not, as has been said,[15] "a significant indication of the moral condition of mankind," but a significant indication of the true import of the notion of duty itself. [Footnote 10: _Romans_, iv. 15.] [Footnote 11: Diogenes Laërtius, _Solon_, 10. Cicero, _Pro S. Roscio Amerino_, 25.] [Footnote 12: Griffis, _Religions of Japan_, p. 72.] [Footnote 13: Bentham, _Deontoiogy_, i. 10.] [Footnote 14: Ziegler, _Social Ethics_, pp. 22, 75 _sq._] [Footnote 15: Murray, _Introduction to Ethics_, p. 108.] It is not, then, in the emotion of approval that we must seek for the origin of this concept. We may undoubtedly applaud him who is faithful to his duty, but the idea of duty involves no applause. There is no contradiction in the omission of an act being disapproved of and the performance of it being praised. "Ought" and "duty" express only the tendency of an omission to call forth disapproval, and say nothing about the consequences of the act's performance. The conscientious man refuses the homage paid to him, by saying, "I have only done my duty." Duty is a "stern {137} lawgiver," who threatens with punishment, but promises no reward.[16] [Footnote 16: The intrinsic connection between duty and disapproval has previously been noticed by Stuart Mill (in a note to James Mill's _Analysis of the Human Mind_, ii. 325), according to whom "no case can be pointed out in which we consider anything as a duty, and any act or omission as immoral or wrong, without regarding the person who commits the wrong and violates the duty as a fit object of punishment." _Cf._ also Bain, _Emotions and the Will_, ch. 15, and Gizycki, _Introduction to the Study of Ethics_, English adaptation by Stanton Coit, p. 102 _sq._] The ideas of "ought" and "duty" thus spring from the same source as the ideas of "bad" and "wrong." To say that a man ought to do a thing is, so far as the morality of his action is concerned, the very same thing as to say that it is bad, or wrong, of him not to do it--in other words, that the not-doing of it has a tendency to call forth moral disapproval. "Wrong" is popularly regarded as the opposite of _right_, and they are really contradictories, but only within the sphere of positive moral valuation. We do not call the actions of irresponsible beings, like animals or infants, "right," although they are not wrong; nor do we pronounce morally indifferent actions of responsible beings to be "right," unless we wish thereby especially to mark their moral value as not being wrong. An act which is permissible is of course not wrong, and so far it may be said to be right; but it would be more accurate to say that people have _a_ right to do it. The adjective "right," in its strict sense, refers to cases from which the indifferent is excluded. A right action is, on a given occasion, _the_ right action, and other alternatives are wrong. "Right" is thus closely related to "ought," but at the same time "right" and "obligatory" are not identical. I cannot quite subscribe to the view of Professor Sidgwick, that "in the recognition of conduct as 'right' is involved an authoritative prescription to do it."[17] What is right is in accordance with the moral law; the adjective "right" means that duty is fulfilled. It is true that the super-obligatory also is right. But "right" takes no notice of the super-obligatory as distinct from the obligatory, and what goes {138} beyond duty always involves the fulfilment of some duty. It may be admitted to be "not only right," but not to be more right. Right has no comparative. A duty is either fulfilled or not, and unless it be perfectly fulfilled the conduct is wrong. There are degrees of wrongness and of goodness, as the moral indignation and the moral approval may be stronger or weaker, but there are no degrees of rightness. [Footnote 17: Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 106.] The fact that the right action is a duty fulfilled accounts for the erroneous opinion so generally held by ethical writers that "right" is intrinsically connected with moral approval.[18] The choice of the right alternative may give us satisfaction and call forth in us an emotion of approval. This emotion may be the motive for our pointing out the rightness of the act, and the judgment in which we do so may even intrinsically contain applause. The manner in which the judgment "That is right," is pronounced, often shows that it is meant to be an expression of praise. But this does not imply that the concept "right" by itself has reference to moral approval and involves praise. It only means that in one word is expressed a certain concept--the concept that a duty is fulfilled--_plus_ an emotion of approval. That "right" _per se_ involves no praise is obvious from the fact that we regard it as perfectly right to pay a debt and to keep a promise, or to abstain from killing, robbing, or lying, although such acts or omissions generally have no tendency whatever to evoke in us an emotion of moral approval. [Footnote 18: Hutcheson, _Essay on the Nature and Conduct of the Passions and Affections, with Illustrations on the Moral Sense_, p. 279. Clifford, _Lectures and Essays_, pp. 294, 304 _sq._ Fowler and Wilson, _Principles of Morals_, ii. 199. Alexander, _Moral Order and Progress_, p. 399.] The concept of "right," then, as implying that the opposite mode of conduct would have been wrong, ultimately derives its moral significance from moral disapproval. This may seem strange considering that "right" is commonly looked upon as positive and "wrong" as its negation. But we must remember that language and popular conceptions in these matters start {139} from the notion of a moral rule or command. It is a matter of paramount importance that such modes of conduct as are apt to arouse moral indignation should be avoided. People try to prevent them by prohibitions and injunctions, often emphasised by threats of penalties for the transgressors. The whole moral and social discipline is based upon commands; customs are rules of conduct, and so are laws. It is natural, then, that the notion of a command should figure uppermost in popular conceptions of morality. Obedience to the command is right, a breach of it is wrong. But the fact which gives birth to the command itself is the indignation called forth by the act which the command forbids, or by the omission of that which it enjoins. I have spoken here of "right" as an adjective. Used as a substantive, to denote _a right_, it also, in whatever sense it be used, expresses a concept which is rooted in the emotion of moral disapproval. To have a right to do a thing is to be allowed to do it, either by positive law, in the case of a legal right, or by the moral law, in the case of a moral right; in other words, to have a moral right to do a thing means that it is not wrong to do it. But generally the concept of "a right" means something more than this. From the fact that an act is allowable, that it is not wrong, it follows, as a rule, that it ought not to be prevented, that no hindrance ought to be put in the way of its performance; and this character of inviolability is largely included in the very concepts of rights. That a man has a right to live does not merely mean that he commits no wrong by supporting his life, but it chiefly means that it would be wrong of other people to prevent him from living, that it is their duty not to kill him, or even, as the case may be, that it is their duty to help him to live. And in order to constitute a right in him, the duty in question must be a duty _to him_. That a right belonging to A is not merely a duty incumbent on B, but a duty _to_ A incumbent on B, will become evident from an example. To kill another {140} person's slave may be condemned as an injury done to the slave himself, in which case it is a duty to the slave not to kill him; or to kill another person's slave may be condemned on account of the loss it causes to the master, in which case it is deemed a duty to the master not to kill the slave. In the latter case we can hardly say that the duty of not killing the slave constitutes a right to live in the slave--it only constitutes a right in the master to retain his slave alive, not to be deprived of him by an act causing his death. So commonly does the conception of a right belonging to a person contain the idea of a duty which other persons owe him, that it seems necessary to point out the existence of rights in which no such idea is involved. A man's right to defend his country, for instance, does not intrinsically imply that it is wrong of the enemy to disable him from doing so. But, on the other hand, there are rights which are nothing else than duties towards those who have the rights. A right is not always a person's right to a certain activity, or to abstaining from a certain activity; it may have exclusive reference to other people's acts or omissions. That a man has the right to be rewarded by his country only means that his country is under an obligation to reward him. That a father has a right to be obeyed by his children only means that it is a duty incumbent on his children to obey him. That a person has the right of bodily integrity only means that it is wrong to inflict on him a bodily injury. These rights may, no doubt, if violated, give rise to certain rights of activity: a man may have a right to claim the reward which is due to him, a father to exact from his children the obedience which they owe him, a person who is wronged to defend himself. But the rights of claiming a reward, of exacting obedience, of resisting wrong, are certainly not identical with the rights of being rewarded, of being obeyed, of not being wronged. It is commonly said that rights have their corresponding duties. But if this expression is to be used, it must be {141} remembered that the duty which "corresponds" to a right, as a matter of fact, is either included in that right or simply identical with it. The identity between the right and the duty, then, consists in this, that the notion of a right belonging to a person is identical with the notion of a duty towards him. Rights and duties are not identical in the sense that it is always a duty to insist on a right, though this has been urged.[19] If anybody prevents me from making use of my right it may no doubt be deemed a duty on my part not to tolerate the wrong committed against me, but nothing of the kind is involved in the concept of a right. And the same may be said with reference to the assertion that a right to do a thing is always, at the same time, a duty to do it--an assertion which is a consequence of the doctrine that there is nothing morally indifferent and nothing that goes beyond duty; in other words, that all conduct of responsible beings is either wrong or obligatory. Even if this doctrine were psychologically correct--which it is not--even if there were a constant coincidence between the acts which a person has a right to perform and acts which it is his duty to perform, that would not constitute identity between the concepts of rights and duties. According to the meaning of a right, A's right may be B's duty towards A, but A's right cannot be A's duty towards B or anybody else. [Footnote 19: Alexander, _op. cit._ p. 146 _sq._] Closely connected with the notions of wrongness and rightness are the notions of _injustice_ and _justice_. Injustice, indeed, is a kind of wrongness. To be unjust is always to be unjust to somebody, and this implies a doing of wrong to somebody, a violation of somebody's right. "Justice," again, is a kind of rightness. It involves the notion that a duty to somebody, a duty corresponding to a right, is fulfilled;[20] we say that justice "demands" that it should be fulfilled. As an act is "right" if its omission {142} is wrong, so an act is "just," in the strict sense of the word, if its omission is unjust. But, like the adjective "right," the adjective "just" is also sometimes used in a wider sense, to denote that something is "not unjust." As non-obligatory acts that are "not wrong" can hardly be denied to be "right," so non-obligatory acts that are "not unjust" can hardly be denied to be "just," although they are not demanded by justice. [Footnote 20: According to the _Institutiones_ of Justinian (i. 1. 1) "justice is the constant and perpetual will to render to each one his right,"--"justitia est constans et perpetua voluntas jus suum cuique tribuens."] At the same time, "injustice" and "justice" are not simply other names for violating or respecting rights. Whenever we style an act "unjust," we emphasise that it involves partiality. We do not denominate murder and robbery unjust, but wrong or criminal, because the partiality involved in their commission is quite obscured by their general wrongness or criminality; but we at once admit their gross injustice when we consider that the murderer and robber indulged their own inclinations with utter disregard of their neighbours' rights. And we look upon "unjust" as an exceedingly appropriate term for a judge who condemns an innocent man with the intention to save the culprit, and for an employer who keeps for himself a profit which he ought to share with his employees. Again, when we style an act "just," in the strict sense of the term, we point out that an undue preference would have been shown to somebody by its omission. It is true that, as Adam Smith observes, "we may often fulfil all the rules of justice by sitting still and doing nothing,"[21] and that the man who barely abstains from violating either the person or the estate or the reputation of his neighbours so far does justice to them; but in such a case we hardly apply the epithet "just," simply because there is no reason for emphasising the partiality involved in the opposite mode of conduct. On the other hand, we say it is just, or, more emphatically, that justice demands, that the innocent should not suffer in the place of the guilty, or that the employer should give his employees all their dues. [Footnote 21: Adam Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 117.] It is necessary to note that the impartiality which justice {143} demands is impartiality within the recognised order of rights, whether these rights themselves have a partial origin or not. A father is unjust if he gives away property to one of his children in preference to others, in case all of them are recognised to have a right to an equal share in his property, even though it be only a conditional right; and a man is unjust if he keeps for himself a profit to which another man has an equal right. But in a society which regards slavery as a morally permissible institution, a man is not necessarily deemed unjust if he beats a slave in a case where it would have been wrong to beat a freeman. However, in the case of unequal rights, justice admits of no greater difference of treatment than what the difference in rights implies. It may be just to punish a man who by a crime has forfeited that right to be protected from wilfully inflicted pain which every law-abiding citizen possesses, but it is unjust to extend the inequality between his condition and the condition of others beyond the inequality of their rights by inflicting upon him a punishment which is unduly severe. It is the emphasis laid on the duty of impartiality that gives justice a special prominence in connection with punishments and rewards. A man's rights depend to a great extent upon his actions. Other things being equal, the criminal has not the same rights to inviolability as regards reputation, or freedom, or property, or life, as the innocent man; the miser and egoist have not the same rights as the benefactor and the philanthropist. On these differences in rights due to differences in conduct, the terms "just" and "unjust" lay stress; for in such cases an injustice would have been committed if the rights had been equal. When we say of a criminal that he has been "justly" imprisoned we point out that he was no victim of undue partiality, as he had forfeited the general right to freedom on account of his crime. When we say of a benefactor that he has been "justly" rewarded, we point out that no favour was partially bestowed upon him in preference to others, as he had acquired the special right of being rewarded. But the {144} "justice" of a punishment or a reward, strictly speaking, involves something more than this; as we have seen, what is strictly "just" is always the discharge of a duty corresponding to a right which would have been in a partial manner disregarded by a transgression of the duty. If it is just that a person should be rewarded, he ought to be rewarded, and to fulfil this duty is to do him justice. Again, if it is just that a person should be punished, he ought to be punished, and his not being punished is an injustice to other persons. It is an injustice towards all those whose condemnation of the wrong act finds its recognised expression in the punishment, inasmuch as their rightful claim that the criminal should be punished, their right of resisting wrong, is thereby violated in favour of the wrong-doer. Moreover, his not being punished is an injustice towards other criminals, who have been punished for similar acts, in so far as they have a right to demand that no undue preference should be shown to anybody whose guilt is equal to theirs. Retributive justice may admit of a certain latitude as to the retribution. It may be a matter of small concern from the community's point of view whether men are fined or imprisoned for the commission of a certain crime. But it may be a demand of justice that, under equal circumstances, all of them should be punished with the same severity, since the crime has equally affected their rights. The emphasis which "injustice" lays on the partiality of a certain mode of conduct always involves a condemnation of that partiality. Like every other kind of wrongness, "injustice" is thus a concept which is obviously based on the emotion of moral disapproval. And so is the concept of "justice," whether it involves the notion that an injustice would be committed if a certain duty were not fulfilled, or it is simply used to denote that a certain mode of conduct is "not unjust." But there is yet another sense in which the word "just" is applied. It may emphasise the impartiality of an act in a tone of praise. Considering how difficult it is to be perfectly impartial and to give every man his due, especially when one's own interests are {145} concerned, it is only natural that men should be applauded for being just, and consequently that to call a person just should often be to praise him. So, also, "justice" is used as the name for a virtue, "the mistress and queen of all virtues."[22] But all this does not imply that an emotion of moral approval enters into the concept of justice. It only means that one word is used to express a certain concept--a concept which, as we have seen, ultimately derives its import from moral disapproval--_plus_ an emotion of approval. That the concept of justice by itself involves no reference to the emotion of moral approval appears from the fact that it is no praise to say of an act that it is "only just." [Footnote 22: Cicero, _De officiis_, iii. 6.] * * * * * From the concepts springing from moral disapproval we pass to those springing from moral approval. Foremost among these ranks the concept _good_.[23] [Footnote 23: Professor Bain, who takes a very legal view of the moral consciousness, maintains (_Emotions and the Will_, p. 292) that "positive good deeds and self-sacrifice . . . transcend the region of morality proper, and occupy a sphere of their own." A similar opinion has been expressed by Prof. Durkheim (_Division du travail social_), and, more recently, by Dr. Lagerborg, in his interesting essay, 'La nature de la morale' (_Revue internationale de Sociologie_, xi. 466). Prof. Durkheim argues (p. 30) that it would be "contraire à toute méthode" to include under the same heading acts which are obligatory and acts which are objects of admiration, and at the same time exempt from all regulation. "Si donc, pour rester fidèle à l'usage, on réserve aux premiers la qualification de moraux, on ne saurait la donner également aux seconds." But I fail to see that ordinary usage recognises regulation as the test of morality. On the contrary, terms like "goodness" and "virtue," though having no reference whatever to any moral rule, have always hitherto been applied to qualities avowedly moral.] Though "good," being affixed to a great variety of objects, takes different shades of meaning in different cases, there is one characteristic common to everything called "good." This is hardly, as Mr. Spencer maintains,[24] its quality of being well adapted to a given end. It is true that the good knife is one which will cut, the good gun one which carries far and true. But I fail to see that "good" in a moral sense involves any idea of an adaptation to a given purpose, and, by calling conduct {146} "good," we certainly do not mean that it "conduces to life in each and all." "Good" simply expresses approval or praise of something on account of some quality which it possesses. A house is praised as "good" because it fulfils the end desired, a wine because it has an agreeable taste, a man on account of his moral worth. "Good," as a moral epithet, involves a praise which is the outward expression of the emotion of moral approval, and is affixed to a subject of moral valuation on account of its tendency to call forth such an emotion. [Footnote 24: Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, i. 21 _sqq._] "Good" has commonly been identified with "right," but such an identification is incorrect. A father does right in supporting his young children, inasmuch as he, by supporting them, discharges a duty incumbent upon him, but we do not say that he does a good deed by supporting them, or that it is good of him to do so. Nor do we call it good of a man not to kill or rob his neighbours, although his conduct is so far right. The antithesis between right and wrong is, in a certain sense at least, contradictory, the antithesis between good and bad is only contrary. Every act--provided that it falls within the sphere of positive moral valuation--that is not wrong is right, but every act that is not bad is not necessarily good. Just as we may say of a thing that it is "not bad," and yet refuse to call it "good," so we may object to calling the simple discharge of a duty "good," although the opposite mode of conduct would be bad. On the other hand, no confusion of ethical concepts is involved in attributing goodness to the performance of a duty, or, in other words, praising a man for an act the omission of which would have incurred blame. To say of one and the same act that it is right and that it is good, really means that we look upon it from different points of view. Since moral praise expresses a benevolent attitude of mind, it is commendable for a man not to be niggard in his acknowledgment of other people's right conduct; whereas, self-praise being objectionable, only the other point of view is deemed proper when he passes a {147} judgment upon himself. He may say, without incurring censure, "I have done my duty, I have done what is right," but hardly, "I have done a good deed"; and it would be particularly obnoxious to say, "I am a good man." The best man even refuses to be called good by others:--"Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God."[25] [Footnote 25: _St. Matthew_, xix. 17.] Whilst "goodness" is the general expression for moral praise, _virtue_ denotes a disposition of mind which is characterised by some special kind of goodness. He who is habitually temperate possesses the virtue of temperance, he who is habitually just the virtue of justice. And even when a man is simply said to be "virtuous," this epithet is given to him, more or less distinctly, with reference to some branch of goodness which constitutes his virtue. A Supreme Being, to whom is attributed perfect goodness, is not called virtuous, but good. It was the opinion of Aristotle that virtue is imperfect so long as the agent cannot do the virtuous action without a conflict of impulses. Others maintain, on the contrary, that virtue essentially expresses effort, resistance, and conquest. It has been represented as "mediation through pain";[26] according to Kant, it is "the moral disposition in struggle."[27] But I do not see that virtue presupposes struggle, nor that it is lessened by being exercised with little or no effort. A virtue consists in the disposition to will or not to will acts of a certain kind, and is by no means reduced by the fact that no rival impulses make themselves felt. It is true that by struggle and conquest a man may display more virtue, namely, the virtue of self-restraint in addition to the virtue gained by it. The vigorous and successful contest against temptation constitutes a virtue by itself. For instance, the quality of mind which is exhibited in a habitual and victorious effort to conquer strong sexual passions is a virtue distinguishable from that of chastity. But even this virtue of {148} resisting seductive impulses is not greater, _ceteris paribus_, in proportion as the victory is more difficult. Take two men with equally strong passions and equally exposed to temptations, who earnestly endeavour to lead a chaste life. He who succeeds with less struggle, thanks to his greater power of will, is surely inferior neither in chastity nor in self-restraint. Suppose, again, that the two men were exposed to different degrees of temptation. He who overcomes the greater temptation _displays_ more self-restraint; yet the other man may possess this virtue in an equal degree, and his chastity is certainly not made greater thereby. He may have more merit, but merit is not necessarily proportionate to virtue. [Footnote 26: Laurie, _Ethica_, p. 253 _sqq._] [Footnote 27: Kant, _Kritik der praktischen Vernunft_, i. 1. 3 (_Sämmtliche Werke_, v. 89).] The virtues are broad generalisations of mental dispositions which, on the whole, are regarded as laudable. Owing to their stereotyped character, it easily happens, in individual cases, that the possession of a virtue confers no merit upon the possessor; and, at least from the point of view of the enlightened moral consciousness, a man's virtues are no exact gauge of his moral worth. In order to form a just opinion of the value of a person's character, we must take into account the strength of his instinctive desires and the motives of his conduct. There are virtues that pay no regard to this. A sober man, who has no taste for intoxicants, possesses the virtue of sobriety in no less degree than a man whose sobriety is the result of a difficult conquest over a strong desire. He who is brave with a view to be applauded is not, as regards the virtue of courage, inferior to him who faces dangers merely from a feeling of duty. The only thing that the possession of a virtue presupposes is that it should have been tried and tested. We cannot say that people unacquainted with intoxicants possess the virtue of sobriety, and that a man who never had anything to spend distinguishes himself for frugality. For to attribute a virtue to somebody is always to bestow upon him some degree of praise, and it is no praise, only irony, to say of a man that he "makes a virtue of necessity." {149} Attempts have been made to reconcile the Aristotelian and the Kantian views of the relation between virtue and effort, by saying that virtue is the harmony won and merit is the winning of it.[28] This presupposes that a man to whom virtue is natural has had his fights. But, surely, it is not always so. Who could affirm that every temperate, or charitable, or just man has acquired the virtue only as a result of inward struggle? There are people to whom some virtues at least are natural from the beginning, and others who acquire them with a minimum of effort. [Footnote 28: Dewey, _Study of Ethics_, p. 133 _sq._ Simmel, _Einleitung in die Moralwissenschaft_, i. 228. _Cf._ also Shaftesbury 'Inquiry concerning Virtue and Merit,' i. 2. 4, in _Characteristicks_, ii. 36 _sqq._] There has been much discussion about the relation between virtue and duty. It has been said that "they are co-extensive, the former describing conduct by the quality of the agent's mind, the latter by the nature of the act performed";[29] that they express the same ideal, virtue subjectively, duty objectively;[30] or that virtue, in its proper sense, is "the quality of character that fits for the discharge of duty," and that it "only lives in the performance of duty."[31] At the same time it is admitted that "the distinctive mark of virtue seems to lie in what is beyond duty," and that "though every virtue is a duty, and every duty a virtue, there are certain actions to which it is more natural to apply the term virtuous."[32] Prof. Sidgwick, again, in his elaborate chapter on 'Virtue and Duty,' remarks that he has "thought it best to employ the terms so that virtuous conduct may include the performance of duty as well as whatever good actions may be commonly thought to go beyond duty; though recognising that virtue in its ordinary use is most conspicuously manifested in the latter."[33] [Footnote 29: Alexander, _op. cit._ p. 244.] [Footnote 30: Grote, _Treatise on the Moral Ideals_, p. 22. _Cf._ Seth, _Study of Ethical Principles_, p. 239.] [Footnote 31: Muirhead, _Elements of Ethics_, p. 190 n.*] [Footnote 32: Alexander, _op. cit._ p. 243 _sq._] [Footnote 33: Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 221.] It can be no matter of surprise that those who regard the notion of "duty" as incapable of being analysed, or {150} who fail to recognise its true import, are embarrassed by its relation to virtue. We do not call it a virtue if a man habitually abstains from killing or robbing, or pays his debts, or performs a great number of other duties. We do call chastity and temperance and justice virtues, although we regard it as obligatory on a man to be chaste, temperate, just. We also call hospitality, generosity, and charity virtues in cases where they go beyond the strict limits of duty. "The relation of virtue and duty is complicated," says Professor Alexander.[34] "In its common use each term seems to include something excluded from the other," observes Professor Sidgwick.[35] But, indeed, the relation is not complicated, for there is no other intrinsic relation between them than their common antagonism to "wrong." That something is a duty implies that its non-performance tends to evoke moral indignation, that it is a virtue implies that its performance tends to evoke moral approval. That the virtues actually cover a comparatively large field of the province of duty is simply owing to their being dispositions of mind. We may praise the habits of justice and gratitude, even though we find nothing praiseworthy in an isolated just or grateful act. [Footnote 34: Alexander, _op. cit._ p. 244.] [Footnote 35: Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 219.] There has been no less confusion with regard to the relation between duty and _merit_. Like the notions of "good" and "virtue," the "meritorious" derives its origin from the emotion of moral approval; but while the former merely express a tendency to give rise to such an emotion, "meritorious" implies that the object to which it refers merits praise, that it has a just claim to praise, or, in other words, that it ought to be recognised as good. This makes the term "meritorious" more emphatic than the term "good," but at the same time it narrows its province in a peculiar way. Just as the expression that something ought to be done implies the idea of its not being done, so the word "meritorious" suggests the idea of goodness which may fail of due recognition. And as it is meaningless to speak of duty in a case where the {151} opposite mode of conduct is entirely out of the question, so it would be an absurdity to attribute merit to somebody for an act the goodness of which is universally admitted. Thus "meritorious" involves a restriction. It would be almost blasphemous to call the acts of a God conceived to be infinitely good meritorious, since it would suggest a limitation of his goodness. The emphatic claim to praiseworthiness made by the "meritorious" has rendered it objectionable to a great number of moralists. It has been identified with the "super-obligatory"--a conception which is to many an abomination. From what has been said above, however, it is manifest that they are not identical. As the discharge of a duty may be regarded as a good act, so it may also be regarded as an act which ought to be recognised as good. Practically, no doubt, there is a certain antagonism between duty and merit. We praise, and, especially, we regard as deserving praise, only what is above the average,[36] and we censure what is below it. No merit is conferred upon him who performs a duty which is seldom transgressed, or the transgression of which would actually incur punishment or censure. We do not think that a man ought to be praised for what his own interest prompts him to perform; and, since the transgression of a moral command which is usually obeyed is generally censured or punished, there is under ordinary circumstances nothing meritorious in performing a duty. But though thus probably most acts which are deemed meritorious fall outside the limits of duty as roughly drawn by the popular mind, we are on the other hand often disposed to attribute merit to a man on account of an act which, from a strict point of view, is his duty, but a duty which most people, under the same circumstances, would have left undischarged. This shows that the antagonism between duty and merit is not absolute. And in the concept of merit _per se_ no such antagonism is involved. [Footnote 36: Merit, as Professor Alexander puts it (_op. cit._ p. 196), "expresses the interval which separates the meritorious from the average."] {152} I confess that I fail to grasp what those writers really mean who identify the "meritorious" with the "super-obligatory," and at the same time deny the existence of any super-obligatory. Do they shut their eyes to the important psychical fact indicated by the term "merit," or do they look upon it as a chimera inconsistent with a sufficiently enlightened moral consciousness? For my own part, I cannot see how the moral consciousness could dispense with the idea that there are actions which merit praise or reward, which ought to be praised or rewarded. The denial of merit can be defended from a purely theological point of view, but then only with regard to man's relation to God. It is obvious that a fallen being who is sinning even when he does his best, could not be recognised as good by God and could have no merit. But it is hardly just, nor is it practically possible, that a man should measure his fellow-man by a superhuman standard of perfection, and try to suppress the natural emotion of moral approval and the claims springing from it, by persuading himself that there is no mortal being who ever does anything which ought to be recognised as good. Quite distinct from the question of merit, then, is that of the _super-obligatory_. Can a man do more than his duty, or, in other words, is there anything good which is not at the same time a duty? The answer depends on the contents given to the commandments of duty, hence it may vary without affecting the concept of duty itself. If we consider that there is an obligation on every man to promote the general happiness to the very utmost of his ability, we must also maintain that nobody can ever do anything good beyond his duty. The same is the case if we regard "self-realisation," or a "normal" exercise of his natural functions, as a man's fundamental duty. In all these cases "to aim at acting beyond obligation," as Price puts it,[37] is "the same with aiming at acting contrary to obligation, and doing more than is fit to be done, the same with doing wrong." It can hardly be denied, however, {153} that those who hold similar views have actually two standards of duty, one by which they measure man and his doings in the abstract, with reference to a certain ideal of life which they please to identify with duty, and another by which they are guided in their practical moral judgments upon their own and their neighbours' conduct. The conscientious man is apt to judge himself more severely than he judges others, partly because he knows his own case better than theirs,[38] and partly because he is naturally afraid of being intolerant and unjust. He may indeed be unwilling to admit that he ever can do more than his duty, seeing how difficult it is even to do what he ought to do, and impressed, as he would be, with the feeling of his own shortcomings. Yet I do not see how he could conscientiously deny that he has omitted to do many praiseworthy or heroic deeds without holding himself blamable for such omissions. [Footnote 37: Price, _Review of the Principal Questions in Morals_, p. 204 _sq._] [Footnote 38: _Cf._ Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 221.] Professor Sidgwick observes that "we should not deny that it is, in some sense, a man's strict duty to do whatever action he judges most excellent, so far as it is in his power."[39] This, as it seems to me, is not a matter of course, and nothing of the kind is involved in the notion of duty itself. We must not confound the moral law with the moral ideal. Duty is the minimum of morality, the supreme moral ideal of the best man is the maximum of it. Those who sum up the whole of morality in the word "ought" identify the minimum and the maximum, but I fail to see that morality is better for this. Rather it is worse. The recognition of a "super-obligatory" does not lower the moral ideal; on the contrary it raises it, or at any rate makes it more possible to vindicate the moral law and to administer it justly. It is nowadays a recognised principle in legislation that a law loses part of its weight if it cannot be strictly enforced. If the realisation of the highest moral ideal is commanded by a moral law, such a law will always remain a dead letter, and morality will gain nothing. Far above the anxious {154} effort to fulfil the commandments of duty stands the free and lofty aspiration to live up to an ideal, which, unattainable as it may be, threatens neither with blame nor remorse him who fails to reach its summits. Does not experience show that those whose thoughts are constantly occupied with the prescriptions of duty are apt to become hard and intolerant? [Footnote 39: _Ibid._ p. 219.] Those who deny the existence of anything morally "praiseworthy" which is not a duty, are also generally liable to deny the existence of anything morally _indifferent_ in the conduct of responsible beings. The "super-obligatory" and the "indifferent" have this in common, that they are "ultra-obligatory," and the denial of the one as well as of the other is an expression of the same tendency to look upon the moral law as the sole fact of the moral consciousness. Even Utilitarianism cannot consistently admit of anything indifferent within the province of moral valuation, since two opposite modes of conduct can hardly produce absolutely the same sum of happiness. Such a repudiation of the "indifferent" being quite contrary to the morality of common sense, which, after all, no ethical theory can afford to neglect, considerable ingenuity has been wasted on vain attempts to show that the "indifferent" is nothing but a rude popular conception unable to keep its ground against a thoroughgoing examination. Professor Ziegler ironically asks:--"Such outward matters as eating and drinking are surely morally indifferent? And yet is eating and drinking too much, is spending too much time in outdoor exercise, is lounging idly about, morally indifferent? or, on the other hand, is it morally allowable or wholesome to reduce oneself and make oneself weak and ill by fasting, or to become a hypochondriac by continually staying indoors?"[40] This argument, however, involves a confusion of different volitions. The fact that eating or drinking generally, or eating or drinking too much or too little, are no matters of indifference, surely does not prevent {155} eating or drinking on some certain occasion from being indifferent. Mr. Bradley again observes:--"It is right and a duty that the sphere of indifferent detail should exist. It is a duty that I should develop my nature by private choice therein. Therefore, _because_ that is a duty, it is a duty _not_ to make a duty of every detail; and thus in every detail I have done my duty."[41] This statement also shows a curious confusion of entirely different facts. It may be very true that it is a duty to recognise certain actions as indifferent. This is one thing by itself. But it is quite another thing to perform those actions. And if it is a duty to recognise certain actions as indifferent how could it possibly at the same time be held a duty to perform them? [Footnote 40: Ziegler, _op. cit._ p. 85.] [Footnote 41: Bradley, _Ethical Studies_, p. 195, n. 1.] It has been maintained that the sphere of the indifferent forms the totality of "ought"; that when the same end may be reached by a variety of means, an action may be indifferent merely in relation to the choice of means, but not so far as regards the attainment of the end, and hence is only apparently indifferent.[42] "If it is my moral duty to go from one town to another," says Mr. Bradley, "and there are two roads which are equally good, it is indifferent to the proposed moral duty _which_ road I take; it is not indifferent _that_ I do take one or the other; and whichever road I do take, I am doing my duty on it, and hence it is far from indifferent: my walking on road A is a matter of duty in reference to the end, though not a matter of duty if you consider it against walking on road B; and so with B--but I can escape the sphere of duty neither on A nor on B." All this is true, but forms no argument against the "indifferent." The statement, "You ought to go to the town and to take either road A or B," refers to two volitions which are regarded as wrong, namely, the volition not to go to the town at all, and the volition to take any road not A or B; and it {156} refers also to two pairs of volitions in reference to which it indicates that the choice between the volitions constituting each pair is indifferent. You may choose to take road A or not to take it; you may choose to take road B or not to take it. The "indifferent" is always an alternative between contradictories. It can therefore never form part of an "ought"-totality, being itself a totality as complete as possible. This is somewhat disguised by a judgment which makes an obligation of a choice between A and B, but becomes conspicuous if we consider a simple case of indifference. Suppose that it is considered indifferent whether you speak or do not speak on a certain occasion. What is here the "ought" that forms the totality of the indifferent? Would there be any sense in saying that you ought either to speak or not to speak? or is the alternative, speaking--not speaking, only a link in an indefinite chain of alternatives, each of which is by itself indifferent, in a relative sense, but the sum of which forms the "ought"? You may be permitted--it will perhaps be argued--in a given moment to speak or to abstain from speaking, to write or to abstain from writing, to read or to abstain from reading, and so on; but however wide the province of the permissible may be, there must always be a limit inside which you ought to remain. That you do this or that may be a matter of indifference, but only of relative indifference, for it is not indifferent what you do on the whole; hence there is nothing absolutely indifferent. Such an argument, however, involves a misapprehension of the true meaning of the "indifferent." The predicate expressing indifference refers to certain definite volitions and their contradictories, not to the whole of a man's conduct in a certain moment. The whole of a man's conduct is never indifferent. But neither is the whole of a man's conduct ever wrong. In the moment when a murderer kills his victim he is fulfilling an endless number of duties: he abstains from stealing, lying, committing adultery, suicide, and so on. The predicate "wrong" only marks the moral {157} character of a special mode of conduct. Why should not the indifferent be allowed to do the same? [Footnote 42: Simmel, _op. cit._ i. 35 _sqq._ Alexander, _op. cit._ p. 50 _sqq._ Murray, _op. cit._ p. 26 _sq._ Bradley, _op. cit._ p. 195 _sq._] It has, finally, been observed that the so-called "indifferent" is something "the morality of which can only be individually determined."[43] This remark calls attention to the fact that no mode of conduct can be regarded as indifferent without a careful consideration of individual circumstances, and that much which is apparently indifferent is not really so. This, however, does not involve an abolition of the indifferent. Such an abolition would be the extreme of moral intolerance. He who tried to put it into practice would be the most insupportable of beings, and to himself life would be unbearable. Fortunately, such a man has never existed. The attempts to make every action, even the most trivial, of responsible beings a matter of moral concern, are only theoretical fancies without practical bearing, a hollow and flattering tribute to the idol of Duty. [Footnote 43: Martensen, _Christian Ethics_, p. 415.] CHAPTER VII CUSTOMS AND LAWS AS EXPRESSIONS OF MORAL IDEAS MORAL ideas are expressed in moral judgments. We have hitherto examined the predicates of such judgments, the import and origin of the moral concepts. Now a much wider field or research remains for us to traverse. We shall direct our attention to the subjects of moral judgments, to the mass of phenomena which, among different peoples and in different ages, have had a tendency to call forth moral blame and moral praise. We shall discuss the general characteristics which all these phenomena have in common. We shall classify the most important of them, and study the moral ideas held with reference to the phenomena of each class separately. And in both cases we shall not only analyse, but try to find an answer to the question, Why?--the ultimate aim of all scientific research. But before entering upon this vast undertaking, we must define the lines on which it is to be conducted. How can we get an insight into the moral ideas of mankind at large? In answering this question I need not dwell upon such obvious means of information as direct experience, or records of moral maxims and sentiments found in proverbs, literary and philosophical works, and religious codes. The sources which, from an evolutionary point of view, are of the most comprehensive importance for our study, are tribal and national customs and laws. It is to these sources that the present chapter will be devoted. {159} We have seen that a custom, in the strict sense of the word, is not merely the habit of a certain circle of men, but at the same time involves a moral rule. There is a close connection between these two characteristics of custom: its habitualness and its obligatoriness. Whatever be the foundation for a certain practice, and however trivial it may be, the unreflecting mind has a tendency to disapprove of any deviation from it for the simple reason that such a deviation is unusual. As Abraham Tucker observes, "it is a constant argument among the common people, that a thing must be done, and ought to be done, because it always has been done."[1] Children show respect for the customary,[2] and so do savages. "If you ask a Kaffir why he does so and so, he will answer--'How can I tell? It has always been done by our forefathers.'"[3] The only reason which the Eskimo can give for some of their present customs, to which they adhere from fear of ill report among their people, is that "the old Innuits did so, and therefore they must."[4] In the behaviour of the Aleut, who "is bashful if caught doing anything unusual among his people,"[5] and in the average European's dread of appearing singular, we recognise the influence of the same force of habit. [Footnote 1: Tucker, _Light of Nature_, ii. 593. _Cf._ also Simmel, _Einleitung in die Moralwissenschaft_, i. 65 _sqq._] [Footnote 2: Sully, _Studies of Childhood_, p. 280 _sq._] [Footnote 3: Leslie, _Among the Zulus and Amatongas_, p. 146.] [Footnote 4: Hall, _Arctic Researches_, p. 569.] [Footnote 5: Dall, _Alaska_, p. 396.] On the other hand, it should be remembered that not every public habit is a custom, involving an obligation; certain practices, though very general in a society, may even be reprobated by almost every one of its members. The habits of a people must therefore be handled with discretion by the student of moral ideas. Yet when he has no reason to conclude as to some special habit that it is held obligatory, he may, probably always, be sure that it is either allowed, or, in spite of all assurances of its wickedness, that the disapproval of it is not generally very deep or genuine. In a community where lying is a {160} prevailing vice, truthfulness cannot be regarded as a very sacred duty; and where sexual immorality is widely spread, the public condemnation of it always smacks of hypocrisy. Men's standard of morality is not independent of their practice. The conscience of a community follows the same rule as the conscience of an individual. "Commit a sin twice," says the Talmud, "and you will think it perfectly allowable."[6] Hence for the study of the inmost convictions of a nation, its "bad habits" form a valuable complement to its professed opinions. [Footnote 6: Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 58.] The dictates of custom being dictates of morality, it is obvious that the study of moral ideas will, to a large extent, be a study of customs. But at the same time it should be borne in mind that custom never covers the whole field of morality, and that the uncovered space grows larger in proportion as the moral consciousness develops. Being a rule of duty, custom may only indirectly be an expression of moral approval, by claiming, in certain cases, that goodness should be rewarded. But even when demanding praise, custom is not always a reliable exponent of merit; it includes politeness, and politeness is a great deceiver. Custom may compel us to praise a man for form's sake, when he deserves no praise, and to thank him when he deserves no thanks. Moreover, custom regulates external conduct only. It tolerates all kinds of volitions and opinions if not openly expressed. It does not condemn the heretical mind, but the heretical act. It demands that under certain circumstances certain actions shall be either performed or omitted, and, provided that this demand is fulfilled, it takes no notice of the motive of the agent or omitter. Again, in case the course of conduct prescribed by custom is not observed, the mental facts connected with the transgression, if regarded at all, are dealt with in a rough and ready manner, according to general rules which hardly admit of individualisation. Yet the incongruity between custom and morality which ensues from these circumstances is on {161} the whole more apparent than real. It is rather an incongruity between different moral standards. The unreflecting moral consciousness, like custom, cares comparatively little for the internal aspect of conduct. It does not ask whether a man goes to church on Sunday from a religious motive or from fear of public opinion; it does not ask whether he stays at home from love of ease or from dissent of belief and avoidance of hypocrisy. It is ready to blame as soon as the dictate of custom is disobeyed. The rule of custom is the rule of duty at early stages of development. Only progress in culture lessens its sway. Finally, the moral ideas which are expressed in the customs of a certain circle of men are not necessarily shared by every one of its members. This may, in the present connection, be considered a matter of slight importance by him who regards morality as "objectively" realised in the customs of a people, and who denies the individual the right to a private conscience. But from the subjective point of view which I am vindicating, individual conviction has a claim to equal consideration with public opinion, nay frequently, to higher respect, representing as it does in many cases a higher morality, a moral standard more purified by reflection and impartiality. At the lower stages of civilisation, however, where a man is led by his feelings more than by his thoughts, such a differentiation of moral ideas hardly occurs. The opinions of the many are the opinions of all, and the customs of a society are recognised as rules of duty by all its members. In primitive society custom stands for law, and even where social organisation has made some progress it may still remain the sole rule for conduct.[7] The authority of {162} a chief does not necessarily involve a power to make laws. Even kings who are described as autocrats may be as much tied by custom as is any of their subjects. [Footnote 7: Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 170. Dall, _op. cit._ p. 381 (Tuski). Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, p. 95. Shooter, _Kafirs of Natal and the Zulu Country_, p. 101 _sq._ Holden, _Past and Future of the Kaffir Races_, p. 336. Mungo Park, _Travels in the Interior of Africa_, p. 16. Scaramucci and Giglioli, 'Notizie sui Danakil,' in _Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia_, xiv. 39. Earl, _Papuans_, p. 105 (Arru Islanders). Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 473 (Timorese). Dalton, _Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 51 (Manipuris). Rockhill, _Land of the Lamas_, p. 220 (Eastern Tibetans).] The Rejangs of Sumatra "do not acknowledge a right in the chiefs to constitute what laws they think proper, or to repeal or alter their ancient usages, of which they are extremely tenacious and jealous." There is no word in their language which signifies law, and the chiefs, in pronouncing their decisions are not heard to say, "So the law directs," but, "Such is the custom."[8] According to Ellis, "the veneration of the Malagasy for the customs derived from tradition, or any accounts of their ancestors . . . influences both their public and private habits; and upon no individual is it more imperative than upon their monarch, who, absolute as he is in other respects, wants either the will or the power to break through the long-established regulations of a superstitious people."[9] The king of Ashanti, although represented as a despotic monarch, is nevertheless under an obligation to observe the national customs which have been handed down to the people from remote antiquity, and a practical disregard of this obligation, in the attempt to change some of the old customs, cost one of the kings his throne.[10] "The Africans," says Mr. Winwood Reade, with special reference to Dahomey, "have sometimes their enlightened kings, as the old barbarians had their sages and their priests. But it is seldom in the power of the heads of a people to alter those customs which have been held sacred from time immemorial."[11] The Basutos, among whom "the chiefs have the right of making laws and publishing regulations required by the necessities of the times," regard such laws, or _molaos_, as inferior to the _mekhoas_, "the use and wont," which constitute the real laws of the country.[12] Among the ancient Irish, there was no sovereign authority competent to enact a new law, the function of the king being merely, as chief of the tribal assembly, to see that the proper customs were observed.[13] [Footnote 8: Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 217.] [Footnote 9: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 359.] [Footnote 10: Beecham, _Ashantee and the Gold Coast_, p. 90 _sq._ _Cf._ Stuhlmann, _Mit Emin Pascha ins Herz von Afrika_, p. 523 (A-l[=u]r).] [Footnote 11: Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 52 _sq._] [Footnote 12: Casalis, _Basutos_, p. 228.] [Footnote 13: _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, iii. p. lxxxvi. _sq._ Cherry, _Growth of Criminal Law_, p. 33.] {163} In competition with law, custom frequently carries the day. In India, especially in the South, "custom has always been to a great extent superior to the written law."[14] In the Ramnad case, the Judicial Committee expressly declared that, "under the Hindu system of law, clear proof of usage will outweigh the written text of the law."[15] It was also a maxim of the Roman jurists that laws may be abrogated by desuetude or contrary usage;[16] and in modern times the same doctrine is acted upon in Scotland.[17] Moreover, when a custom cannot abrogate the law, it may still have a paralysing influence on its execution. According to the laws of European nations, a man who has killed another in a duel is to be treated as a homicide; yet wherever the duel exists as a custom, the law against it is ineffective. So it is on the Continent, and so it was in England in the eighteenth century, when a well-informed writer could affirm that he had "not found any case of an actual execution in England in consequence of a duel fairly fought."[18] In this instance the ineffectiveness of the law is owing to the fact that the law has not been able to abolish an old custom. But the superiority of custom also shows itself in cases where the law itself is getting antiquated, and a new custom, enforced by public opinion, springs up in opposition to it. Thus, contrary to law and earlier usage, it is nowadays the custom of certain European countries that a sentence of death is not carried into execution. Even "bad habits" tend to weaken the authority of the law. Probably the two most prominent civil vices of the Chinese are bribery and gambling. Against both these vices their penal code speaks with no uncertain sound; and yet, according to {164} Professor Douglas, it is no exaggeration to say that if the law were enforced, it would make a clean sweep of ninety-nine of every hundred officials in the empire.[19] Other illustrations of the same principle may be found much nearer home. [Footnote 14: Burnell, quoted by Nelson, _View of the Hind[=u] Law_, p. 136.] [Footnote 15: Mayne, _Treatise on Hindu Law and Usage_, p. 41.] [Footnote 16: _Institutiones_, i. 2. 11. _Digesta_, i. 3. 32.] [Footnote 17: Mackenzie, _Studies in Roman Law_, p. 54.] [Footnote 18: Quoted by Bosquett, _Treatise on Duelling_, p. 80. _Cf._ _A Short Treatise upon the Propriety and Necessity of Duelling_, printed at Bath in 1779. In 1808, however, Major Campbell was sentenced to death and executed for killing Captain Boyd in a duel (Storr, 'Duel,' in _Encyclopædia Britannica_, vii. 514).] [Footnote 19: Douglas, _Society in China_, p. 82.] Custom has proved stronger than law and religion combined. Sir Richard Burton writes of the Bedouins, "Though the revealed law of the Koran, being insufficient for the Desert, is openly disregarded, the immemorial customs of the _Kazi al-Arab_ (the Judge of the Arabs) form a system stringent in the extreme."[20] So, also, the Turkomans are ruled, often tyrannised over, by a mighty sovereign, invisible indeed to themselves, but whose presence is plainly discerned in the word _deb_--"custom," "usage." Our authority adds:--"It is very remarkable how little the 'Deb' has suffered in its struggle of eight centuries with Mahommedanism. Many usages, which are prohibited to the Islamite, and which the Mollahs make the object of violent attack, exist in all their ancient originality."[21] [Footnote 20: Burton, _Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah_, ii. 87.] [Footnote 21: Vámbéry, _Travels in Central Asia_, p. 310 _sqq._] The laws themselves, in fact, command obedience more as customs than as laws. A rule of conduct which, from one point of view, is a law, is in most cases, from another point of view, a custom; for, as Hegel remarks, "the valid laws of a nation, when written and collected, do not cease to be customs."[22] There are instances of laws that were never published, the knowledge and administration of which belonged to a privileged class, and which nevertheless were respected and obeyed.[23] And among ourselves the ordinary citizen stands in no need of studying the laws under which he lives, custom being generally the safe guiding star of his conduct. Custom, as Bacon said, is "the principal magistrate of man's life,"[24] or, as the ancients put it, "the king of all men."[25] [Footnote 22: Hegel, _Philosophie des Rechts_, § 211, p. 199.] [Footnote 23: Rein, _Japan_, p. 314.] [Footnote 24: Bacon, 'Essay xxxix. Of Custom and Education,' in _Essays_, p. 372.] [Footnote 25: Herodotus, iii. 38.] {165} Many laws were customs before they became laws. Ancient customs lie at the foundation of all Aryan law-books. Mr. Mayne is of opinion that Hindu law is based upon customs which existed even prior to and independent of Brahmanism.[26] The Greek word [Greek: no/mos] means both custom and law, and this combination of meanings was not owing to poverty of language, but to the deep-rooted idea of the Greek people that law is, and ought to be, nothing more and nothing less than the outcome of national custom.[27] A great part of the Roman law was founded on the _mores majorum_; in the Institutes of Justinian, it is expressly said that "long prevailing customs, being sanctioned by the consent of those who use them, assume the nature of Laws."[28] The case was similar with the ancient laws of the Teutons and Irish.[29] [Footnote 26: Mayne, _op. cit._ p. 4.] [Footnote 27: Ziegler, _Social Ethics_, p. 30. Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, i. 201.] [Footnote 28: _Institutiones_, i. 2. 9.] [Footnote 29: Joyce, _Social History of Ancient Ireland_, i. 181.] The transformation of customs into laws was not a mere ceremony. Law, like custom, is a rule of conduct, but, while custom is established by usage and obtains, in a more or less indefinite way, its binding force from public opinion, a law originates in a definite legislative act, being set, as Austin says, by a sovereign person, or a sovereign body of persons, to a person or persons in a state of subjection to its author.[30] By becoming laws, then, the customs were expressly formulated, and were enforced by a more definite sanction. It seems that the process in question arose both from considerations of social utility and from a sense of justice. Cicero observes that it was for the sake of equity that "laws were invented, which perpetually spoke to all men with one and the same voice."[31] From these points of view it was neither necessary nor desirable that more than a limited set of customs should pass into laws. There are customs which are too indefinite to assume the stereotyped shape of law.[32] There are others, the breach {166} of which excites too little public indignation, or which are of too little importance for the public welfare, to be proper objects of legislation. And there are others which may be said to exist unconsciously, that is, which are universally observed as a matter of course, and which, never being transgressed, are never thought of. [Footnote 30: Austin, _Lectures on Jurisprudence_, i. 87, 181, &c.] [Footnote 31: Cicero, _De officiis_, ii. 12.] [Footnote 32: _Cf._ Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, v. 10. 6.] Laws which are based on customs naturally express moral ideas prevalent at the time when they are established. On the other hand, though still in existence, they are not necessarily faithful representatives of the ideas of a later age. Law may be even more conservative than custom. Though the latter exercises a very preservative influence on public opinion, it _eo ipso_ changes when public opinion changes. Even among savages, in spite of their extreme regard for the customs of their ancestors, it is quite possible for changes to be introduced; the traditions of the Central Australian Arunta, for instance, indicate their own recognition of the fact that customs have varied from time to time.[33] But the legal form gives to an ancient custom such a fixity as to enable it to survive, as a law, the change of public opinion and the introduction of a new custom. In all progressive societies, as Sir Henry Maine observes, social necessities and social opinion are always more or less in advance of law. "We may come indefinitely near to the closing of the gap between them, but it has a perpetual tendency to re-open."[34] [Footnote 33: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 12 _sqq._] [Footnote 34: Maine, _Ancient Law_, p. 24.] The moral ideas of a people are less extensively represented in its laws than in its customs. This is a corollary of the fact that there are always a great number of customs which never become laws. Moreover, whilst law, like custom, directly expresses only what is obligatory, it hardly ever deals with merit, even indirectly. The Chinese have a method of rewarding and commemorating meritorious and virtuous subjects by erecting gates in their honour, and conferring upon them marks of public distinction;[35] {167} and the Japanese and Coreans award prizes in the form of money or silver cups or monumental columns to signal exemplars of filial piety, arguing that, if the law punishes crime, it ought also to reward virtue.[36] In Europe we have titles and honours, pensions for distinguished service, and the like; but the distribution of them is not regulated by law, and has often little to do with morality. [Footnote 35: de Groot, _Religious System of China_ (vol. ii. book) i. 769, 789 _sq._] [Footnote 36: Griffis, _Corea_, p. 236.] Law, like custom, only deals with overt acts, or omissions, and cares nothing for the mental side of conduct, unless the law be transgressed. Yet, as will be seen subsequently, though this constitutes an essential difference between law and the enlightened moral consciousness, it throws considerable light on the moral judgments of the unreflecting mind. Being a general, and at the same time a strictly defined, rule of conduct, a law can even less than a custom make special provision for every case so as to satisfy the demand of justice. This disadvantage, however, was hardly felt in early periods of legislation, when little account was taken of what was behind the overt act; and at later stages of development, the difficulty was overcome by leaving greater discretion to the judge. The history of legal punishments in England, for instance, shows a change from a system which, except in cases of misdemeanour, left no discretion at all to judges, to a system under which unlimited discretion is left to them in all cases except those which are still liable to capital punishment--practically, high treason and murder.[37] The study of law, then, must for our purpose be supplemented by the study of judicial practice. [Footnote 37: Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, ii. 87.] Laws which represent public opinion are no more than customs safe exponents of the moral ideas held by particular members of the society. But on the other hand, there are cases in which a law, unlike a custom, may express the ideas, or simply the will, of a few, or even of {168} a single individual, that is, of the sovereign power only. It is obvious that laws imposed upon a barbarous people by civilised legislators may differ widely from the people's own ideas of right and wrong. For instance, when studying the moral sentiments of the Teutonic peoples from their early law-books, we must carefully set aside all elements of Roman or Christian origin. At the same time, however, it should be remembered that the moral consciousness of a people may gradually be brought into harmony with a law originally foreign to it. If the law is in advance of public opinion--as Roman law undoubtedly was in Teutonic countries--it may raise the views of the people up to its own standard by awaking in them dormant sentiments, or by teaching them greater discrimination in their judgments. And, as has been already noticed, what is forbidden and punished may, for the very reason that it is so, come to be regarded as wrong and worthy of punishment. Finally, a law may enjoin or forbid acts which by themselves are regarded as indifferent from a moral point of view. This is, for instance, the case with the laws which require marriages to be celebrated at certain times and places only, and which forbid the cultivation of tobacco in England. Jurists divide crimes into _mala in se_ and _mala quia prohibita_. The former would be wrong even if they were not prohibited by law, the latter are wrong only because they are illegal. A law expresses a rule of duty by making an act or omission which is regarded as wrong a crime, that is, by forbidding it under pain of punishment. Law does not in all cases directly threaten[38] with punishment--I say directly, since all law is coercive, and all coercion at some stage involves the possibility of punishment.[39] Sanctions, or the consequences by which the sovereign political authority threatens to enforce the laws set by it, may {169} have in view either the indemnification of the injured party, or the suffering of the injurer. In the latter case the sanctions are called punishments. But, though highly important, the distinction between indemnification and punishment is not absolute. A person who causes harm to another would hardly have to pay damages unless some kind of guilt or quasi-guilt were imputed to him; and, on the other hand, punishment may actually consist in the damages he has to pay. Moreover, the suffering involved in punishment must be regarded as a kind of indemnification in so far as it is intended to gratify the injured party's craving for revenge. The pleasure of vengeance, says Bentham, "is a gain; it calls to mind Samson's riddle--it is sweet coming out of the terrible, it is honey dropping from the lion's mouth."[40] In cases where the injured party is allowed to decide whether the injurer shall be punished or not, or what punishment (within certain limits) shall be inflicted upon him, it is obvious that punishment is largely looked upon as a means of indemnification. However, the fact that such a privilege is granted to the injured party indicates the existence of some degree of sympathetic resentment in the public. Punishment, in all its forms, is essentially an expression of indignation in the society which inflicts it.[41] Hence it is of extreme importance for the study of moral ideas, and calls for our careful consideration. [Footnote 38: "Not every sovereign can make sure of enforcing his commands; and sometimes laws are made without even any great intention of enforcing them" (Pollock, _Essays in Jurisprudence and Ethics_, p. 9 _sq._).] [Footnote 39: _Cf._ Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 2.] [Footnote 40: Bentham, _Theory of Legislation_, p. 309.] [Footnote 41: "Die Missbilligung ist das Wesentliche aller Strafe" (von Bar, _Die Grundlagen des Strafrechts_, p. 4). "La peine consiste dans une réaction passionnelle d'intensité graduée" (Durkheim, _Division du travail social_, p. 96).] By punishment I do not understand here every suffering inflicted upon an offender in consequence of his offence, but only such suffering as is inflicted upon him in a definite way by, or in the name of, the society of which he is a permanent or temporary member. This definition holds good whatever may be the opinion about the final object of punishment. Whether its purpose is, or is supposed to be, either reformation, or determent, or retribution, its immediate aim is always to cause suffering. {170} We should not call it punishment if the reformation of the criminal were attempted, say, by means of hypnotism. It is a common opinion that punishment, in this sense of the word, is a social institution of comparatively modern origin, which has sprung from, and gradually superseded, the earlier custom of individual or family revenge. This opinion may seem plausible to the student of European and Eastern law, but, as we shall see, the early history of civilised races is apt to give a somewhat erroneous idea of the evolution of punishment. Even among savages public indignation frequently assumes that definite shape which constitutes the difference between punishment and mere condemnation.[42] [Footnote 42: See Steinmetz, _Ethnologische Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, ii. 327 _sqq._; Makarewicz, _Évolution de la peine_, _passim_.] Savage punishment sometimes simply consists in publicly putting the offender to shame. In Greenland the courts of justice were the public assemblies, which at the same time supplied the national sports and entertainments. Here "nith-songs" were used for settling all sorts of crimes or breaches of public order or custom, with the exception of those which could only be expiated by death; by means of cutting capers and singing, the offender was told of his faults, and the opposite virtues were praised to all who were present.[43] The same institution is found, with only incidental differences, among several other tribes within and beyond the Arctic circle.[44] And, knowing the sensitiveness of these peoples, we may assume that the punishment in question is by no means lenient. In Greenland "it now and then happens that some one or other, wounded, perhaps, by a single word from one of his kinsfolk, runs away to the mountains, and is lost for several days at least."[45] And Adair, speaking of the public jesting by which North American Indians used to punish young people who were guilty of petty crimes, says that "they would sooner die by torture, than renew their shame by repeating the actions."[46] [Footnote 43: Rink, _Eskimo Tribes_, p. 24 _sq._ _Idem_, _Greenland_, pp. 141, 150. Cranz, _op. cit._ i. 165 _sq._ Holm, 'Ethnologisk Skizze af Angmagsalikerne,' in _Meddelelser om Grönland_, p. 87.] [Footnote 44: Kane, _Arctic Explorations_, ii. 128 _sq._] [Footnote 45: Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 267 _sq._] [Footnote 46: Adair, _History of the American Indians_, p. 429 _sq._] {171} In other instances the community as a whole expresses its indignation by inflicting suffering of a more material kind upon the culprit. In certain Australian tribes, when a native for any transgression incurs the displeasure of his tribe, custom compels him to "stand punishment," as it is called; that is, he stands with a shield at a fair distance, while the whole tribe, either simultaneously or in rapid succession, cast their spears at him. Their expertness generally enables those who are exposed to this trial to escape without serious injury, though instances of a fatal result occasionally occur; however, there is a certain propriety even in this extraordinary punishment, as the accuracy and force with which the weapons are thrown will depend very much on the opinion entertained of the enormity of the offence.[47] Among the North-West-Central Queensland aborigines, though each individual, within certain limits, can do what he pleases, "he has to reckon not only with the particular person injured, or his relatives, but also, in some cases, with the whole camp collectively. Thus the camp as a body, as a camp council, will take upon itself to mete out punishment in crimes of murder, incest, or the promiscuous use of fighting-implements within the precincts of the camping-ground: death, and probably the digging of his own grave, awaits the delinquent in the former case, while 'crippling,' generally with knives, constitutes the penalty for a violation of the latter." Again, if a woman makes herself obnoxious in the camp, especially to the female portion of it, she is liable to be set upon and "hammered" by her fellow-sisters collectively, the men on such occasions not interfering.[48] Among the Bangerang tribe of Victoria, "any one who had suffered a wrong complained of it, if at all, at night aloud to the camp, which was silent and attentive. Then the accused was heard. Afterwards those who chose, men or women, expressed their views on the subject; and if general opinion pronounced the grievance a good one, the accused accepted the penalty sanctioned by custom."[49] Among various tribes in Western Victoria, "should a person, through bad conduct, become a constant anxiety and trouble {172} to the tribe, a consultation is held, and he is put to death."[50] Among the Mpongwe, if a man murders another, he is put to death, not by the nearest of kin, but by the whole community, being either drowned or burned alive.[51] Among the Hudson Bay Eskimo, "when a person becomes so bad in character that the community will no longer tolerate his presence he is forbidden to enter the huts, partake of food, or hold any intercourse with the rest. Nevertheless, as long as he threatens no one's life, but little attention is paid to him. Should he be guilty of a murder, several men watch their opportunity to surprise him and put him to death, usually by stoning. The executioners make no concealment of their action and are supported by public opinion in the community."[52] [Footnote 47: Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 114. _Cf._ Eyre, _Journals of Expeditions of Discovery into Central Australia_, ii. 388; Collins, _English Colony in New South Wales_, i. 586; Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, ii. 295.] [Footnote 48: Roth, _Ethnological Studies among the North-West-Central Queensland Aborigines_, pp. 139, 141. Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 61 _sq._] [Footnote 49: Curr, _Squatting in Victoria_, p. 245.] [Footnote 50: Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 76.] [Footnote 51: Burton, _Two Trips to Gorilla Land_, i. 105.] [Footnote 52: Turner, 'Ethnology of the Ungava District,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xi. 186.] Among various savage peoples expulsion from the tribe is the punishment of persons whose conduct excites great public indignation, and among others such persons are outlawed. The Chippewyans, among whom "order is maintained in the tribe solely by public opinion," the chief having no power to punish crimes, occasionally expel from the society individuals whose conduct is exceptionally bad and threatens the general peace.[53] The Salish, or flathead Indians, sometimes punished notorious criminals by expulsion from the tribe or band to which they belonged.[54] Sir E. F. Im Thurn, whilst praising the Indians of Guiana for their admirable morality as long as they remain in a state of nature, adds that there are exceptions to the rule, and that such individuals "are soon killed or driven out from their tribe."[55] Among the Bedouins of the Euphrates, "in extreme cases, and as the utmost penalty of the law, the offender is turned out of the tribe";[56] and the same is the case among the Beni Mzab.[57] In the Scotch Highlands, even to this day, instances are common of public opinion operating as a punishment, to the extent of forcing individuals into exile.[58] There are cases reported from various parts of the savage world of banishment being inflicted as a punishment for sexual {173} offences;[59] and other instances of expulsion are mentioned by Dr. Steinmetz.[60] In some cases, however, expulsion is to be regarded rather as a means of ridding the community from a pollution, than as a punishment in the proper sense of the term.[61] [Footnote 53: Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, ii. 26 _sq._] [Footnote 54: Hale, _op. cit._ p. 208.] [Footnote 55: Im Thurn, _Among the Indians of Guiana_, p. 213.] [Footnote 56: Blunt, _Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates_, ii. 206.] [Footnote 57: Chavanne, _Sahara_, p. 315. Tristram, _Great Sahara_, p. 207.] [Footnote 58: Stewart, _Highlanders of Scotland_, p. 380.] [Footnote 59: Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 61 _sqq._] [Footnote 60: Steinmetz, _op. cit._ ii. ch. 5.] [Footnote 61: See _infra_, on Homicide.] Nearly related to the punishment of expulsion is that of outlawry. Von Wrede states that the Bedouins of [H.]adhramaut give a respite of three days to the banished man, and that after the lapse of this period every member of the tribe is allowed to kill him.[62] Among the Wyandots the lowest grade of outlawry consists in a declaration that, if the offender shall continue in the commission of crimes similar to that of which he has been guilty, it will be lawful for any person to kill him, whilst outlawry of the highest degree makes it the duty of any member of the tribe who may meet with the offender to kill him.[63] Among the ancient Teutons, also, outlawry was originally a declaration of war by the commonwealth against an offending member, and became only later on a regular means of compelling submission to the authority of the courts.[64] [Footnote 62: von Wrede, _Reise in [H.]adhramaut_, p. 51.] [Footnote 63: Powell, 'Wyandot Government,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ i. 68.] [Footnote 64: Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the time of Edward I._ i. 49.] Most generally, however, punishment is inflicted upon the culprit, not by the whole of the community, but by some person or persons invested with judicial authority. Indeed, it is not only civilised races who have judges and courts of justice. Among savages and barbarians justice is very frequently administered by a council of elders or by a chief.[65] Even people of so low a type as the Australian aborigines have their tribunals. [Footnote 65: Petroff, 'Report on Alaska,' in _Tenth Census of the United States_, p. 152 (Aleuts). Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 330. Powell, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ i. 63, 66 _sq._ (Wyandots). _Idem_, 'Sociology,' in _American Anthropologist_, N.S. i. 706 (North American tribes). Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, i. 277 (Creeks). von Martius, _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 88 (Brazilian Indians). Cook, _Journal of a Voyage round the World_, p. 41 (Tahitians). Lister, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxi. 54 (Bowditch Islanders). Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 345 (Solomon Islanders). Hunt, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxviii. 6 (Murray Islanders). Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xiv. 448; Senfft, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 448; Kubary, 'Die Ebongruppe im Marshall's Archipel,' in _Journal des Museum Godeffroy_, i. 37 (Marshall Islanders). _Idem_, _Ethnographische Beiträge zur Kenntniss der Karolinischen Inselgruppe_, p. 73 _sqq._; _Idem_, 'Die Palau-Inseln,' in _Journal des Museum Godeffroy_, iv. 42 (Pelew Islanders). von Kotzebue, _Voyage of Discovery_, iii. 208 (Caroline Islanders). Worcester, _Philippine Islands_, p. 107 (Tagbanuas of Palawan). Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 217 (Rejangs). von Brenner, _Besuch bei den Kannibalen Sumatras_, p. 211 (Bataks). Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 243 (Kubus of Sumatra). Man, _Sonthalia_, p. 88 _sq._ Cooper, _Mishmee Hills_, p. 238. Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 83 (Kandhs). Stewart, in _Jour. As. Soc. Bengal_, xxiv. 609, 620 (Nagas, Old Kukis). Dalton, _Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 45 (Kukis). Forsyth, _Highlands of Central India_, p. 361 (Bygás). Shortt, in _Trans. Ethn. Soc._ N.S. vii. 241 (Todas). Batchelor, _Ainu and their Folk-Lore_, p. 278; von Siebold, _Die Aino auf der Insel Yesso_, p. 34. From Africa a great number of instances might be quoted, _e.g._:--Nachtigal, _Sahara und Sudan_, i. 449 (Tedâ). Petherick, _Egypt, the Soudan, and Central Africa_, p. 320 (Nouaer tribes). Beltrame, _Il Fiume Bianco_, p. 77 (Shilluk). Laing, _Travels in the Timannee, &c. Countries_, p. 365 (Soolimas). Mungo Park, _Travels in the Interior of Africa_, p. 15 _sq._ (Mandingoes). Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 22 (Bakwiri). _Ibid._ p. 47 (Banaka and Bapuku). Tellier, _ibid._ p. 175 (Kreis Kita, in the French Soudan). Bosman, _New Description of the Coast of Guinea_, p. 331 (Negroes of Fida). Casati, _Ten Years in Equatoria_, p. 158, 163 (Akkas, Mambettu). Stuhlmann, _Mit Emin Pascha ins Herz von Africa_, p. 523 (A-l[=u]r). _Emin Pasha in Central Africa_, p. 89 (Wanyoro). Baskerville, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 193 (Waganda). Beverley, _ibid._ p. 214 (Wagogo). Lang, _ibid._ p. 253 _sqq._ (Washambala). Desoignies, _ibid._ p. 279 _sq._ (Msalala). Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, pp. 71, 73, 74, 487 (Barotse, Wakamba). Junod, _Les Ba-Ronga_, p. 155 _sq._ Burton, _Zanzibar_, ii. 94 (Wanika). Holub, _Seven Years in South Africa_, ii. 319 (Marutse). Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xiv. 316 (Herero). Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 197 (Ovambo). Rautanen, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 340 (Ondonga). Kolben, _Present State of the Cape of Good Hope_, p. 86, 297 (Hottentots). Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xv. 333 (Bechuanas). Casalis, _Basutos_, pp. 224, 226. Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, pp. 35, 110. Holden, _Past and Future of the Kaffir Races_, pp. 333, 336. Shooter, _Kafirs of Natal_, p. 99 _sq._] {174} Speaking of the native tribes of Central Australia, Messrs. Spencer and Gillen observe:--"Should any man break through the strict marriage laws, it is not only an 'impersonal power' which he has to deal with. The head men of the group or groups concerned consult together with the elder men, and, if the offender, after long consultation, be adjudged guilty and the determination be arrived at that he is to be put to death--a by no means purely hypothetical case--then the same elder men make arrangements to carry the sentence out, and a party, which is called an _ininja_, is organised for the purpose."[66] We hear of similar councils from various parts of the Australian continent. In his description of the aborigines of New South Wales, Dr. Fraser states, "The Australian council of old and experienced men--this aboriginal senate and witenagemot--has the power to decree punishment for tribal offences." The chiefs sit as magistrates to decide all cases which are brought before them, such as the divulging of sacred things, speaking to a mother-in-law, the adultery of a wife; and there is even a {175} tribal executioner. At the same time, many grievances are arranged without the intervention of the chiefs; for instance, if a man has been found stealing from his neighbour, or two men quarrel about a woman, a fight ensues, the one or the other gets his head broken, and there the matter ends.[67] The Narrinyeri have a judgment council of the elders of the clan, called _tendi_, which is presided over by the chief of the clan; and when any member of the _tendi_ dies, the surviving members select a suitable man from the clan to succeed him. "All offenders are brought to this tribunal for trial. In cases of the slaying by a person or persons of one clan of the member of another clan in time of peace, the fellow-clansmen of the murdered man will send to the friends of the murderer and invite them to bring him to trial before the united _tendies_. If, after full inquiry, he is found to have committed the crime, he will be punished according to the degree of guilt."[68] Among another Australian tribe, the Gournditch-mara, again, the headman, whose office was hereditary, "settled all quarrels and disputes in the tribe. When he had heard both sides, and had given his decision in a matter, no one ever disputed it."[69] [Footnote 66: Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ p. 15.] [Footnote 67: Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 39.] [Footnote 68: Taplin, 'Narrinyeri,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 34 _sq._] [Footnote 69: Fison and Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Narrinyeri_, p. 277.] Among the Australian aborigines, then, we find cases in which punishment is inflicted by the whole community, and other cases in which it is inflicted by a tribunal or a chief. There can be little doubt that the latter system has developed out of the former; there are obvious instances of transition from the one to the other. Among the North-West-Central Queensland natives, for instance, in cases of major offences, such as murder, incest, or physical violence, the old men are only said to "influence" aboriginal public opinion.[70] It is an inconvenient, and in larger communities a difficult, procedure for the whole group to inflict punishments in common, hence the administration of justice naturally tends to pass into the hands of the leading men or the chief. But the establishment of a judicial authority within the society may also have a different origin. Very frequently judicial organisation {176} seems to have developed, not out of a previous system of lynch-law, but out of a previous system of private revenge. [Footnote 70: Roth, _op. cit._ p. 141.] An act of individual or family revenge is by itself, of course, an expression of private, not of public, feelings--of revenge, not of moral indignation. But the case is different with the _custom_ of revenge. We shall see in a following chapter that blood-revenge is regarded not only as a right, but, very frequently, as a duty incumbent upon the relatives of the slain person. So, also, revenge may be deemed a duty in cases where there is no blood-guiltiness. Among the Australian Geawe-gal tribe, for instance, the offender, according to the magnitude of his offence, was to receive one or more spears from men who were relatives of the deceased person; or the injured man himself, when he had recovered strength, might discharge the spears at the offender. And our authority adds, "Obedience to such laws was never withheld, but would have been enforced, without doubt, if necessary, by the assembled tribe."[71] The obligatory character of revenge implies that its omission is disapproved of. It is of course the man on whom the duty of vengeance is incumbent that is the immediate object of blame, when this duty is omitted; and the blame may partly be due to contempt, especially when there is a suspicion of cowardice. But behind the public censure there is obviously a desire to see the injurer suffer. Instances may be quoted in which the society actually assists the avenger, in some way or other, in attaining his object. Speaking of the Fuegians, M. Hyades observes:--"Nous avons entendu parler d'individus coupables de meurtre sur leur femme, par exemple, et qui, poursuivis par tout un groupe de familles, finissaient, quelquefois un an ou deux après leur crime, par tomber sous les coups des parents de la victime. Il s'agit là plutôt d'un acte de justice que d'une satisfaction de vengeance. Nous devons faire remarquer en outre que, dans ces cas, le meurtrier est abandonné de tous, et qu'il ne peut se soustraire que pendant un temps {177} relativement assez court au châtiment qui le menace."[72] Amongst the Central Eskimo, who have "no punishment for transgressors except the blood vengeance," a man has committed a murder or made himself odious by other outrages, "he may be killed by any one simply as a matter of justice. The man who intends to take revenge on him must ask his countrymen singly if each agrees in the opinion that the offender is a bad man deserving death. If all answer in the affirmative he may kill the man thus condemned, and no one is allowed to revenge the murder."[73] Among the Greenlanders, in cases of extreme atrocity, the men of a village have been known to make common cause against a murderer, and kill him, though it otherwise is the business of the nearest relatives to take revenge.[74] It is also noteworthy that, among the crimes which in savage communities are punished by the community at large, incest is particularly prominent. The chief reason for this I take to be the absence of an individual naturally designated as the avenger. [Footnote 71: Fison and Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 282.] [Footnote 72: Hyades and Deniker, _Mission scientifique du Cap Horn_, vii. 240 _sq._] [Footnote 73: Boas, 'Central Eskimo,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ vi. 582.] [Footnote 74: Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 163.] Thus public indignation displays itself not only in punishment, but, to a certain extent, in the custom of revenge. In both cases the society desires that the offender shall suffer for his deed. Strictly speaking, the relationship between the custom of revenge and punishment is not, as has been often supposed, that between parent and child. It is a collateral relationship. They have a common ancestor, the feeling of public resentment. But whilst public opinion demands that vengeance shall be exacted for injuries, it is also operative in another way. Though in some cases the resentment may seem to outsiders to be too weak or too much checked by other impulses, it may in other cases appear unduly great. As a matter of fact, we frequently find the practice of revenge being regulated by a rule which requires equivalence between the injury and the suffering inflicted in return for {178} it. Sometimes this rule demands that only one life shall be taken for one;[75] sometimes that a death shall be avenged on a person of the same rank, sex, or age as the deceased;[76] sometimes that a murderer shall die in the same manner as his victim;[77] sometimes that various kinds of injuries shall be retaliated by the infliction of similar injuries on the offender.[78] This strict equivalence is not characteristic of resentment as such.[79] There is undoubtedly a certain proportion between the pain-stimulus and the reaction; other things being equal, resentment increases in intensity along with the pain by which it is excited. The more a person feels offended, the greater is his desire to retaliate by inflicting counter-pain, and the greater is the pain which he desires to inflict. But resentment involves no accurate balancing of suffering against suffering, hence there may be a crying disproportion between the act of revenge and the injury evoking it.[80] As Sir Thomas Browne observes, a revengeful mind "holds no rule in retaliations, requiring too often a head for a tooth, and the supreme revenge for trespasses, which a night's rest should obliterate."[81] If, then, the rule of {179} equivalence is not suggested by resentment itself, this rule must be due to other factors, which intermingle with resentment, and help, with it, to determine the action. One of these factors, I believe, is self-regarding pride, the desire to pull down the humiliating arrogance of the aggressor naturally suggesting the idea of paying him back in his own coin; and it seems probable that the natural disposition to imitate, especially in cases of sudden anger, acts in the same direction. But besides this qualitative equivalence between injury and retaliation, the _lex talionis_ requires, in a rough way, quantitative equivalence, and this demand has no doubt a social origin. If the offender is a person with whose feelings men are ready to sympathise, their sympathy will keep the desire to see him suffer within certain limits; and if, under ordinary circumstances, they tend to sympathise equally with both parties, the injurer and the person injured, and, in consequence, confer upon these equal rights, they will demand a retaliation which is only equal in degree to the offence. By suffering a loss the offender compensates, as it were, for the loss which he has inflicted; and when equal regard is paid to his feelings and to those of his victim, it is deemed just that the loss required of him as a compensation should be equivalent to the loss for which he compensates, anything beyond equivalence being regarded as undeserved suffering. If this explanation is correct, the rule of equivalence must originally have been restricted to offences within the social group; for, according to early custom and law, only members of the same society have equal rights. In speaking of the tit-for-tat system prevalent among the Guiana Indians, Sir E. F. Im Thurn expressly says, "Of course all this refers chiefly to the mutual relations of members of the same tribe."[82] And when we find savages acting according to the same principle in their relations to other tribes, the reason for this may be sought partly in the strong hold which that principle has taken of their minds, and partly in the dangers accompanying intertribal revenge, {180} which make it desirable to restrict it within reasonable limits. [Footnote 75: Krause, _Tlinkit-Indianer_, p. 245 _sq._ Macfie, _Vancouver Island and British Columbia_, p. 470. Foreman, _Philippine Islands_, p. 213 (Negrito and Igorrote tribes in the province of La Isabela). Low, _Sarawak_, p. 212 (Dyaks). von Langsdorf, _Voyages and Travels_, i. 132 (Nukahivans).] [Footnote 76: Jagor, _Travels in the Philippines_, p. 213 (Igorrotes). Blumentritt, quoted by Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, i. 370 _sq._ (Quianganes of Luzon). Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 243 (Marea). _Koran_, ii. 173.] [Footnote 77: von Martius, _op. cit._ i. 129 (Brazilian Indians). Wallace, _Travels on the Amazon_, p. 499 (Uaupés). Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, iii. 246 (Dacotahs). Steller, _Kamtschatka_, p. 355; Hickson, _A Naturalist in North Celebes_, p. 198 (Sangirese of Manganitu). Fraser, _Journal of a Tour through Part of the Him[=a]l[=a] Mountains_, p. 339 (Butias). Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 371. Munzinger, _op. cit._ p. 502 (Barea and Kunáma). de Abreu, _Canary Islands_, p. 27 (aborigines of Ferro).] [Footnote 78: Im Thurn, _op. cit._ p. 213 _sq._ (Guiana Indians). _Glimpses of the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 86 (Bataks). Arbousset and Daumas, _Tour to the North-East of the Colony of Good Hope_, p. 67 (Mantetis). Munzinger, _op. cit._ p. 502 (Barea and Kunáma). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, p. 27 (various other African peoples), de Abreu, _op. cit._ p. 71 (aborigines, of Gran Canaria).] [Footnote 79: _Cf._ Tissot, _Le droit pénal_, i. 226; Steinmetz, _Ethnol. Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, i. 401; Makarewicz, _op. cit._ p. 13.] [Footnote 80: von Martius, _op. cit._ i. 128 (Brazilian aborigines). Calder, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ iii. 21 (Tasmanians). Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 473 (Timorese). Sarasin, _Forschungen auf Ceylon_, iii. 539 (Veddahs). Jacob, _Das Leben der vorislâmischen Beduinen_, p. 144 _sq._] [Footnote 81: Browne, _Christian Morals_, iii. 12, p. 94.] [Footnote 82: Im Thurn, _op. cit._ p. 214.] The regulations to which the practice of revenge is subject, help us to understand the transition from revenge to punishment, and the establishment of a special judicial authority. As long as retaliation is in the hands of private individuals, there is no guarantee, on the one hand, that the offender will have to suffer, on the other hand, that the act of retaliation will be sufficiently discriminate. The injured party may be too weak, or otherwise unable, to avenge himself. His readiest course, then, is to appeal to the chief for help. The chief, on his part, has an interest in interfering--he may of course expect a handsome reward for his assistance,[83]--and, in so far as the community at large wishes that the offender shall suffer, the chief may even be bound to interfere. Thus in the Sandwich Islands, the family or the friends of an injured person--who in cases of assault or murder were by common consent justified in taking revenge--used to appeal to the chief of the district or to the king, when they were too weak to attack the offender themselves.[84] Among the Wanyoro, according to Emin Pasha, should the murderer escape, the nearest relatives of the murdered man apply to the chief of the tribe to procure the punishment of the culprit.[85] The Indians of Brazil, when offended, sometimes bring their cause before the chief; but they do it seldom, since they consider it disgraceful for a man not to be able to avenge himself.[86] The judicial authority granted to the Basuto chief "also insures justice to foreigners, and to individuals who, having no relations, are deprived of their natural defenders and avengers."[87] In ancient Greece, in early times, special care was taken by the State for the protection of the weak and helpless, who otherwise had been unavenged.[88] In the Middle Ages, the {181} poor and the weak were placed under the King's protection; the intervention of royal justice, as Du Boys observes, "apparaissait comme un bienfait pour les faibles et un secours pour les opprimés."[89] [Footnote 83: Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 311. _Cf._ Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. 165.] [Footnote 84: Ellis, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 429.] [Footnote 85: _Emin Pasha in Central Africa_, p. 86.] [Footnote 86: von Martius, _op. cit._ i. 132.] [Footnote 87: Casalis, _op. cit._ p. 226.] [Footnote 88: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 372.] [Footnote 89: **Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, p. 237.] Whilst resentment on behalf of injuries inflicted upon persons who are unable to avenge themselves has thus, to some extent, contributed towards the establishment of a central judicial and executive authority, the sympathy naturally felt for the object of an improper and immoderate revenge undoubtedly tended to bring about a similar result. The same feeling which checked indiscriminate revenge by establishing the rule of strict equivalence, restricted it once more, and in a more effective way, by referring the case to a judge who was less partial, and more discriminate, than the sufferer himself or his friends. Speaking of the feuds of the Teutons, Kemble remarks, "Setting aside the loss to the whole community which may arise from private feud, the moral sense of men may be shocked by its results: an individual's own estimate of the satisfaction necessary to atone for the injury done to him, may lead to the commission of a wrong on his part, greater than any he hath suffered; nor can the strict rule of 'an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth,' be applied where the exaction of the penalty depends upon the measure of force between appellant and defender."[90] In the Island of Bali the judge steps in between the prosecutor and the person whom he pursues, "so as to restrain the indiscriminate animosity of the one, and to determine the criminality of the other."[91] Crawfurd, in his account of native customs in the Malay Archipelago, says that "the law even expressly interdicts all interference when there appears a character of fairness in the quarrel."[92] A Karen, we are told, always thinks himself right in taking the law into his own hands, this being the custom of the country, and "he is never interfered with, unless he is guilty of some {182} act contrary to Karen ideas of propriety, when the elders and the villagers interfere and exercise a check upon him."[93] Among the Basutos the authority of the chief is stated to be "sufficiently respected to protect criminated persons, until their cases have been lawfully examined."[94] Among the Californian Gallinomero the avenger of blood has his option between money and the murderer's life; "but he does not seem to be allowed to wreak on him a personal and irresponsible vengeance," the chief taking the criminal and executing the punishment.[95] [Footnote 90: Kemble, _Saxons in England_, i. 268 _sq._] [Footnote 91: Raffles, _History of Java_, ii. p. ccxxxvii.] [Footnote 92: Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, iii. 120.] [Footnote 93: Mason, in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxxvii. pt. li. 145. _Cf._ MacMahon, _Far Cathay and Farther India_, p. 188.] [Footnote 94: Casalis, _op. cit._ p. 226.] [Footnote 95: Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 177.] Besides the desire that the offender shall suffer and the desire that his suffering shall correspond to his guilt, there is a third factor of importance which has contributed to the substitution of punishment for revenge and to the rise of a judicial organisation. For every society it is a matter of great consequence that there should be peace between its various members. Though the system of revenge helps to keep down crime,[96] it also has a tendency to cause disturbance and destruction. Any act of vengeance which goes beyond the limits fixed by custom is apt to call forth retaliation in return. Among the Ossetes, says Baron von Haxthausen, "if the retaliation does not exceed the original injury the affair terminates; but if the wound given is greater than the one received, the feud begins afresh from the other side."[97] The custom of blood-revenge certainly does not imply that the avenger of unjustifiable homicide may himself be a proper object of retaliation;[98] but in the absence of a tribunal it may be {183} no easy thing to decide the question of guilt, and, besides, the dictate of custom may be overruled by passion. As a matter of fact, the blood-feud often consists of a whole series of murders, the revenge itself calling forth a new act of redress, and so on, until the state or hostility may become more or less permanent.[99] In the long run this will prove injurious both to the families implicated in the feud and to society as a whole, and some method of putting a stop to the feud will readily be adopted. One such method is to substitute the payment of blood-money for revenge; another is to submit the cause to an authority invested with judicatory power. Casalis tells us that the Basutos are often heard to say, "If we were to revenge ourselves, the town or community would soon be dispersed"; and he adds that the instinctive fear of the disorders that might arise from the exercise of individual law has induced them to allow the chief of the tribe a certain right over the person of every member of the community.[100] [Footnote 96: Taylor, _Te Ika a Maui_, p. 96 (Maori). Im Thurn, _op. cit._ pp. 213, 330 (Guiana Indians). Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 84, _sq._; Blunt, _Bedouins of the Euphrates_, ii. 207; Layard, _Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon_, p. 305 _sq._ (Bedouins). Kohl, _Reise nach Istrien_, i. 409 _sq._ (Montenegrines). Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, i. 60 (Anglo-Saxons). Nordström, _Svenska samhälls-författningens historia_, ii. 228 (ancient Scandinavians). Steinmetz, _Ethnol. Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, ii. 125 _sqq._] [Footnote 97: von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 411.] [Footnote 98: Among the aborigines of Western Victoria, when life has been taken for life, the feud is ended (Dawson, _op. cit._ p. 70). Among the Greenlanders, if the victim of revenge "be a notorious offender, or hated for his bloody deeds, or if he have no relations, the matter rests"; but more frequently the act of vengeance costs the avenger himself his life (Cranz, _op. cit._ i. 178). Among the Bedouins, "if the family of the man killed should in revenge kill two of the homicide's family, the latter retaliate by the death of one. If one only be killed, the affair rests there and all is quiet; but the quarrel is soon revived by hatred and revenge" (Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 86). In his book, _Das Leben der vorislâmischen Beduinen_, Dr. Jacob likewise observes (p. 144):--"Irrtümlich ist die Ansicht, dass Blut immer neues Blut fordere. Was für einen Getödteten ein Anderer erschlagen, so galt die Sache in der Regel damit für erledigt und abgetan." _Cf._ Achelis, _Moderne Völkerkunde_, p. 407, n. 1.] [Footnote 99: Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 293. Miklosich. 'Blutrache bei den Slaven,' in _Denkschriften d. kaiserl. Akademie d. Wissensch. Phil.-hist. Classe_, Vienna, xxxvi. 132; &c.] [Footnote 100: Casalis, _op. cit._ p. 225. _Cf._ Boyle, _Adventures among the Dyaks of Borneo_, p. 217; Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 249 _sq._ (Rejangs).] As may be expected, it is only by slow degrees that revenge has yielded to punishment, and the private avenger has been succeeded by the judge and the public executioner of his sentence. Among many savages the chief is said to have nothing whatever to do with jurisdiction.[101] Among {184} others he acts merely as an adviser, or is appealed to as an arbiter;[102] or the injured party may choose between avenging himself and appealing to the chief for redress;[103] or the judicial power with which the chief is invested is stated to be more nominal than real.[104] It is also interesting to note that in several cases the injured party or the accuser acts as executioner, but not as judge. [Footnote 101: Keating, _Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River_, i. 123 (Potawatomis). Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, ii. 27 (Chippewyans), Carver, _Travels_, p. 259 (Naudowessies). Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, ii. 163; &c.] [Footnote 102: Lewis and Clarke, _Travels to the Source of the Missouri River_, p. 306 _sq._ (Shoshones). Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 45 (Karok and Yurok). Dunbar, 'Pawnee Indians' in _Magazine of American History_, iv. 261. Arbousset and Daumas, _op. cit._ p. 67 (Mantetis). Ellis, _Yoruba-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 300 (Tshi- and E[(w]e-speaking peoples of the African West Coast). Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, pp. 68, 70. Blunt, _op. cit._ ii. 232 _sq._ (Bedouins of the Euphrates). von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 415 (Ossetes).] [Footnote 103: Ellis, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 429. Williams and Calvert, _Fiji and the Fijians_, p. 23. Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 473 (Timorese).] [Footnote 104: Falkner, _Description of Patagonia_, p. 123. Anderson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 231 (Damaras).] Thus among some Australian tribes, "a man accused of a serious offence gets a month's citation to appear before the tribunal, on pain of death if he disobeys. If he is found guilty of a private wrong, he is painted white, and made to stand out at fifty paces in front of the accuser and his friends, all fully armed. They throw at him a shower of spears and 'bumarangs,' from which he protects himself with a light shield."[105] Among the Aricara Indians of the Missouri, who, for the most part, punish murder with death, the nearest relative of the murdered man was deputed by the council to act the part of executioner.[106] With reference to the natives of Bali, Raffles says that "in the execution of the punishment awarded by the court there is this peculiarity, that the aggrieved party or his friends are appointed to inflict it."[107] In some parts of Afghanistan, "if the offended party complains to the Sirdar, or if _he_ hears of a murder committed, he first endeavours to bring about a compromise, by offering the Khoon Behau, or price of blood; but if the injured party is inexorable, the Sirdar lays the affair before the King, who orders the Cauzy to try it; and, if the criminal is convicted, gives him up to be executed by the relations of the deceased."[108] Among the peoples round Lake Nyassa and Tanganyika and among the Bantu tribes generally, "when a murderer is caught and proved guilty he is given over {185} to the relatives of the person murdered, who have power to dispose of him as they choose."[109] A similar practice prevails among the Mishmis,[110] Bataks,[111] and Kamchadales.[112] It was also recognised by early Slavonic,[113] Teutonic, and English codes.[114] According to the provisions of a code granted so late as 1231, by the Abbey of St. Bertin to the town of Arques, when a man was convicted of intentional homicide, he was handed over to the family of the murdered person, to be slain by them.[115] [Footnote 105: Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 40 _sq._] [Footnote 106: Bradbury, _Travels in the Interior of America_, p. 168.] [Footnote 107: Raffles, _op. cit._ ii. p. ccxxxvii.] [Footnote 108: Elphinstone, _Kingdom of Caubul_, ii. 105 _sq._] [Footnote 109: Macdonald, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxii. 108.] [Footnote 110: Cooper, _Mishmee Hills_, p. 238.] [Footnote 111: von Brenner, _op. cit._ p. 212.] [Footnote 112: Georgi, _Russia_, iii. 137.] [Footnote 113: Macieiowski, _Slavische Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 127.] [Footnote 114: Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 167. _Lex Salica_, 68. _Laws of Cnut_, i. 53. _Leges Henrici I._ lxxi. 1.] [Footnote 115: _Leges villæ de Arkes ab abbate S. Bertini concessæ_, 28 (d'Achery, _Spicilegium_, iii. 608).] But although, in innumerable cases, punishment and judicial organisation have succeeded a previous system of revenge, and thus are products of social development, their existence or non-existence among a certain people is no exact index to the general state of culture which that people has attained. Even among low savages we have noticed instances of punishments which are inflicted by the community as a whole, as also by special judicial authorities. On the other hand, we are taught by the history of European and Oriental nations, that the system of revenge is not inconsistent with a comparatively high degree of culture.[116] We can now see the reason for this apparent anomaly. In a small savage community, all the members of which are closely united with each other, an injury inflicted upon one is readily felt by all. The case may be different in a State consisting of loosely-connected social components, which, though forming a political unity, have little communication between themselves, and take no interest in each other's private dealings. And, whilst in the smaller society public resentment is thus more easily aroused, such a society also stands in more urgent need of internal peace. [Footnote 116: See _infra_, on Blood-revenge.] * * * * * Our assumption that punishment is, in the main, an expression of public indignation, is opposed to another theory, according to which the chief object of punishment, not only ought to be, but actually is, or has been, {186} to prevent crime by deterring people from committing it. We are even told that punishment, inflicted for such a purpose, is, largely, at the root of the moral consciousness; that punishment is not the result of a sense of justice, but that the sense of justice is a result of punishment; that, by being punished by the State, certain acts gradually came to be regarded as worthy of punishment, in other words, as morally wrong.[117] [Footnote 117: Rée, _Ursprung der moralischen Empfindungen_, p. 45 _sqq._ _Idem_, _Entstehung des Gewissens_, p. 190 _sqq._] There are certain facts which seem to support the supposition that punishment has, to a large extent, been intended to act as a deterrent. We find that among various semi-civilised and civilised peoples the criminal law has assumed a severity which far surpasses the rigour of the _lex talionis_. Speaking of the Azteks, Mr. Bancroft observes that "the greater part of their code might, like Draco's, have been written in blood--so severe were the penalties inflicted for crimes that were comparatively slight, and so brutal and bloody were the ways of carrying those punishments into execution."[118] The punishment of death was inflicted on the man who dressed himself like a woman, on the woman who dressed herself like a man,[119] on tutors who did not give a good account of the estates of their pupils,[120] on those who carried off, or changed, the boundaries placed in the fields by public authority;[121] and should an adulterer endeavour to save himself by killing the injured husband, his fate was to be roasted alive before a slow fire, his body being basted with salt and water that death might not come to his relief too soon.[122] Nor did the ancient Peruvian code economise human suffering by proportioning penalties to crimes; the punishment most commonly prescribed by it was death.[123] The penal code of China, though less cruel in various respects than the European legislation of the eighteenth century, awards death for a third and aggravated theft, for defacing the branding inflicted for former offences,[124] and for privately casting copper coin;[125] whilst for the commission of the most heinous crimes {187} the penalty is "to be cut into ten thousand pieces," which appears to amount, at least, to a license to the executioner to aggravate and prolong the sufferings of the criminal by any species of cruelty he may think proper to inflict.[126] In Japan, before the revolution of 1871, "the punishments for crime had been both rigorous and cruel; death was the usual punishment, and death accompanied by tortures was the penalty for aggravated crimes.[127] According to the Mosaic law, death is inflicted for such offences as breach of the Lord's day,[128] going to wizards,[129] eating the fat of a beast of sacrifice,[130] eating blood,[131] approaching unto a woman "as long as she is put apart for her uncleanness,"[132] and various kinds of sexual offences.[133] The laws of Manu provide capital punishment for those who forge royal edicts and corrupt royal ministers;[134] for those who break into a royal store-house, an armoury, or a temple, and those who steal elephants, horses, or chariots;[135] for thieves who are taken with the stolen goods and the implements of burglary;[136] for cut-purses on the third conviction;[137] whilst a wife, who, proud of the greatness of her relatives or her own excellence, violates the duty which she owes to her lord, shall be devoured by dogs in a place frequented by many, and the male offender shall be burnt on a red-hot iron bed.[138] [Footnote 118: Bancroft, _Native Races of the Pacific States_, ii. 454.] [Footnote 119: Clavigero, _History of Mexico_, i. 358.] [Footnote 120: _Ibid._ i. 359.] [Footnote 121: _Ibid._ i. 355.] [Footnote 122: Bancroft, _op. cit._ ii. 465 _sq._] [Footnote 123: Garcilasso de la Vega, _First Part of the Royal Commentaries of the Yncas_, i. 145, 151 _sq._] [Footnote 124: Wells Williams, _Middle Kingdom_, i. 512.] [Footnote 125: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. ccclix. p. 397.] [Footnote 126: _Ibid._ sec. ccliv. p. 269 n. [dagger]] [Footnote 127: Reed, _Japan_, i. 323. Thunberg, _Travels_, iv. 65.] [Footnote 128: _Exodus_, xxxi. 14.] [Footnote 129: _Leviticus_, xx. 6.] [Footnote 130: _Ibid._ vii. 25.] [Footnote 131: _Ibid._ vii. 27.] [Footnote 132: _Ibid._ xviii. 19.] [Footnote 133: _Ibid._ xviii. 6 _sqq._] [Footnote 134: _Laws of Manu_, ix. 232.] [Footnote 135: _Ibid._ ix. 280.] [Footnote 136: _Ibid._ ix. 270.] [Footnote 137: _Ibid._ ix. 277.] [Footnote 138: _Ibid._ viii. 371 _sq._] Increasing severity has been a characteristic of European legislation up to quite modern times. Towards the end of the thirteenth century, the English law knows some seven crimes which it treats as capital, namely, treason, homicide, arson, rape, robbery, burglary, and grand larceny; but the number of capital offences grew rapidly.[139] From the Restoration to the death of George III.--a period of 160 years--no less than 187 such offences, wholly different in character and degree, were added to the criminal code; and when, in 1837, the punishment of death was removed from about 200 crimes, it was still left applicable to exactly the same offences as were capital at the end of the thirteenth century.[140] Pocket-picking was punishable with death until the year 1808;[141] horse-stealing, cattle-stealing, {188} sheep-stealing, stealing from a dwelling-house, and forgery, until 1832;[142] letter-stealing and sacrilege, until 1835;[143] rape, until 1841;[144] robbery with violence, arson of dwelling-houses, and sodomy, until 1861.[145] And not only was human life recklessly sacrificed, but the mode of execution was often exceedingly cruel. In the beginning of the fifteenth century, the _Peine forte et dure_, or pressing to death with every aggravation of torture, was adopted as a manner of punishment suitable to cases where the accused refused to plead.[146] Burning alive of female offenders still occurred in England at the end of the eighteenth century,[147] being considered by the framers of the law as a commutation of the sentence of hanging required by decency.[148] Still more cruel was the punishment inflicted on male traitors: they were first hanged by the neck and cut down before life was extinct, their entrails were taken out and burned before their face, then they were beheaded and quartered, and the quarters were set up in diverse places.[149] This punishment continued to exist in England as late as in the reign of George III., and even then Sir Samuel Romilly, the great agitator against its continuance, brought upon himself the odium of the law officers of the Crown, who declared that he was "breaking down the bulwarks of the Constitution."[150] Such cruelties were not peculiar to the English. On the contrary, as Sir James Stephen observes, though English people, as a rule, have been singularly reckless about taking life, they have usually been averse to the infliction of death by torture.[151] In various parts of the Continent we find such punishments as breaking on the wheel, quartering alive, and tearing with red-hot pincers, in use down to the end of the eighteenth century. [Footnote 139: Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 511.] [Footnote 140: May, _Constitutional History of England_, ii. 595. Mackenzie, _Studies in Roman Law_, p. 424 _sq._] [Footnote 141: Pike, _History of Crime in England_, ii. 450.] [Footnote 142: _Ibid._ ii. 451. Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, i. 474.] [Footnote 143: Pike, _op. cit._ ii. 451. Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 474.] [Footnote 144: Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 475.] [Footnote 145: _Ibid._ i. 475.] [Footnote 146: For the manner in which this torture was inflicted, see Andrews, _Old-Time Punishments_, p. 203 _sq._] [Footnote 147: _Ibid._ p. 198. Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 477.] [Footnote 148: Andrews, _op. cit._ p. 192.] [Footnote 149: Holinshed, _Chronicles of England, &c._ i. 310. Thomas Smith, _Commonwealth of England_, p. 198.] [Footnote 150: Andrews, _op. cit._ p. 203. An earlier method of punishing traitors was boiling to death, which was adopted by Henry VIII. as a punishment for poisoners as well (Holinshed, _op. cit._ i. 311).] [Footnote 151: Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 478. _Cf._ Thomas Smith, _op. cit._ p. 193 _sq._] It is interesting to compare these punishments with those practised among savages. Wanton cruelty is not a general characteristic of their public justice. {189} Among several uncivilised peoples capital punishment is said to be unknown or almost so.[152] Among others it is restricted to a few particularly atrocious offences. Among the Greenlanders "none are put to death but murderers, and such witches as are thought to have killed some one by their art."[153] The Aleuts punished with death murderers and betrayers of community secrets.[154] In Samoa and New Guinea murder and adultery are punished capitally;[155] among the Bataks, open robbery and murder, provided that the offender is unable to redeem his life by a sum of money;[156] among the Kukis, only treason or an attempt at violence on the person of the King.[157] Among the Mishmis, adultery committed against the consent of the husband is punished with death, but all other crimes, including murder, are punished by fines; however if the amount is not forthcoming the offender is cut up by the company assembled.[158] In Kar Nicobar the only cause for a "death penalty" that Mr. Distant could discover was madness.[159] Among the Soolimas "murder is the only crime punishable with death."[160] Among the Congo natives "the only capital crimes are stated to be those of poisoning and adultery."[161] Of the kingdom of Fida Bosman writes, "Here are very few capital crimes, which are only murthers, and committing adultery with the King's or his great men's wives."[162] Among the Wanika two crimes are visited with capital punishment--murder and an improper use of sorcery;[163] among the Wagogo[164] and Washambala,[165] witchcraft only. Among the Basutos every murderer is by law liable to death, but the sentence is generally commuted into confiscation; an incorrigible thief sometimes pays with his head, but is generally fined, whereas treason and rebellion against authority are treated with more severity.[166] Among the Kafirs, cases of assault on the persons of wives of the chiefs, {190} and what are deemed aggravated cases of witchcraft, are the only crimes which usually involve the punishment of death, very summarily inflicted; whereas this punishment seldom follows even murder, when committed without the supposed aid of supernatural powers.[167] [Footnote 152: von Siebold, _Ethnol. Studien über die Aino auf Yesso_, p. 35; Batchelor, _Ainu and their Folk-Lore_, p. 284. Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 115 (Kakhyens). Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 248 (Rejangs of Sumatra). Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua_, p. 103 (Serangese). Worcester, _op. cit._ pp. 413, 492 (Mangyans and Tagbanuas). Kubary, 'Die Palau-Inseln,' in _Journal des Museum Godeffroy_, iv. 42 (Pelew Islanders). de Abreu, _op. cit._ p. 152 (Canary Islanders). Frisch, _Die Eingeborenen Süd-Afrika's_, p. 322 (Hottentots).] [Footnote 153: Cranz, _op. cit._ i. 177.] [Footnote 154: Petroff, _loc. cit._ p. 152.] [Footnote 155: Turner, _Samoa_, p. 178. Chalmers, _Pioneering in New Guinea_, p. 179.] [Footnote 156: Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 389.] [Footnote 157: Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 45. Stewart, in _Jour. As. Soc. Bengal_, xxiv. p. 627.] [Footnote 158: Griffith, _ibid._ vi. 332.] [Footnote 159: Distant, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ iii. 6.] [Footnote 160: Laing, _Travels_, p. 365.] [Footnote 161: Tucker, _Expedition to Explore the River Zaire_, p. 383.] [Footnote 162: Bosman, _op. cit._ p. 331.] [Footnote 163: New, _op. cit._ p. 111.] [Footnote 164: Beverley, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 215.] [Footnote 165: Lang, _ibid._ p. 259.] [Footnote 166: Casalis, _op. cit._ p. 228.] [Footnote 167: Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 35 _sq._] Nor, as it seems, is savage justice fond of torturing its victims before they are killed. The Maoris exclaimed loudly against the English method of executing criminals, first telling them that they are to die, then letting them lie for days and nights in prison, and finally leading them slowly to the gallows. "If a man commits a crime worthy of death," they said, "we shoot him, or chop off his head; but we do not tell him first that we are going to do so."[168] Dr. Codrington gives the following description of the cases of burning persons alive which have occasionally happened in Pentecost Island:--"In fighting time there, if a great man were very angry with the hostile party, he would burn a wounded enemy. When peace had been made and the chiefs had ordered all to behave well that the country might settle down in quiet, if any one committed such a crime as would break up the peace, such as adultery, they would tie him to a tree, heap fire-wood round him, and burn him alive, a proof to the opposite party of their detestation of his wickedness. This was not done coolly as a matter of course in the execution of a law, but as a horrible thing to do, and done for the horror of it; a horror renewed in the voice and face of the native who told me of the roaring flames and shrieks of agony."[169] This story is not without interest when compared with the cold-blooded burning of female criminals and women suspected of witchcraft in Christian Europe. [Footnote 168: Yate, _Account of New Zealand_, p. 105.] [Footnote 169: Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 347.] There is sufficient evidence to show that the severe punishments adopted by peoples of a higher culture have been regarded by them as beneficial to society. The legislators themselves often refer to the deterrent effects of punishment. The Peruvian Incas considered that light punishments gave confidence to evil-doers, whilst "through their great care in punishing a man's first delinquency, they avoided the effects of his second and third, and of the host of others that are committed in every commonwealth where no diligence is observed {191} to root up the evil plant at the commencement."[170] According to the Prefatory Edict of the Emperor Kaung-hee, published in 1679, the chief ends proposed by the institution of punishments in the Chinese Empire "have been to guard against violence and injury, to repress inordinate desires, and to secure the peace and tranquillity of an honest and unoffending community."[171] In the Laws of Manu punishment is described as a protector of all creatures:--"If the king did not, without tiring, inflict punishment on those worthy to be punished, the stronger would roast the weaker, like fish on a spit; the crow would eat the sacrificial cake and the dog would lick the sacrificial viands, and ownership would not remain with any one, the lower ones would usurp the place of the higher ones. The whole world is kept in order by punishment, for a guiltless man is hard to find; through fear of punishment the whole world yields the enjoyments which it owes."[172] Even the gods, the Dânavas, the Gandharvas, the Râkshasas, the bird and snake deities, give the enjoyments due from them only if they are tormented by the fear of punishment.[173] In mediæval law-books determent is frequently referred to as an object of punishment.[174] And in more modern times, till the end of the eighteenth century at least, the idea that punishment should inspire fear was ever present to the minds of legislators. [Footnote 170: Garcilasso de la Vega, _op. cit._ i. 151 _sq._] [Footnote 171: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, p. lxvii.] [Footnote 172: _Laws of Manu_, vii. 14, 15, 20-22, 24 _sq._] [Footnote 173: _Ibid._ vii. 23.] [Footnote 174: _Leges Burgundionum_, Leges Gundebati, 52: "Rectius enim paucorum condempnatione multitudo corregitur, quam sub specie incongruae civilitatis intromittatur occasio, quae licentiam tribuat delinquendi." _Capitulare Aquisgranense An._ 802, 33: "Sed taliter hoc corripiantur, ut caeteri metum habeant talia perpetrandi" (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, xcvii. 230). _Chlotar II. Edictum de Synodo Parisiensi_, 24: "In ipsum capitali sententia judicetur, qualiter alii non debeant similia perpetrare" (Migne, _op. cit._ lxxx. 454). For other instances, see Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 588, n. 6.] The same idea is also conspicuous in the practice of punishing criminals in public.[175] A petty thief in the pillory and a scold on the cucking-stool were, in earlier times, spectacles familiar to everybody, whilst persons still living remember seeing offenders publicly whipped in the streets. "A gallows or tree with a man hanging upon it," says Mr. Wright, "was so frequent an object in the country that it seems to have been almost a natural ornament of a landscape, and it is thus introduced by no {192} means uncommonly in mediæval manuscripts."[176] In atrocious cases it was usual for the court to direct the murderer, after execution, to be hung upon a gibbet in chains near the place where the fact was committed, "with the intention of thereby deterring others from capital offences"; and in order that the body might all the longer serve this useful purpose, it was saturated with tar before it was hung in chains.[177] The popularity which mutilation as a punishment enjoyed during the Middle Ages was largely due to the opinion, that "a malefactor miserably living was a more striking example of justice than one put to death at once."[178] [Footnote 175: Günther, _Die Idee der Wiedervergeltung_, i. 211 _sq._ n. 31.] [Footnote 176: Wright, _History of Domestic Manners and Sentiments in England during the Middle Ages_, p. 346.] [Footnote 177: Holinshed, _op. cit._ i. 311. Blackstone, _Commentaries on the Laws of England_, iv. 201. Cox, 'Hanging in Chains,' in _The Antiquary_, xxii. 213 _sq._] [Footnote 178: Strutt, _View of the Manners, &c. of the Inhabitants of England_, ii. 8.] We shall now consider whether these facts really contradict our thesis that punishment is essentially an expression of public indignation. It may, first, be noticed that the punishment actually inflicted on the criminal is in many cases much less severe than the punishment with which the law threatens him. In China the execution of the law is, on the whole, lenient in comparison with its literal and _prima facie_ interpretation.[179] "Many of the laws seem designed to operate chiefly _in terrorem_, and the penalty is placed higher than the punishment really intended to be inflicted, to the end that the Emperor may have scope for mercy, or, as he says, 'for leniency beyond the bounds of the law.'"[180] In Europe, during the Middle Ages, malefactors frequently received charters of pardon, and in later times it became a favourite theory that it was good policy, in framing penal statutes, to make as many offences as possible capital, and to leave to the Crown to relax the severity of the law. In England, about the beginning of the nineteenth century, the punishment of death was actually inflicted in only a small proportion of the cases in {193} which sentence was passed; indeed, "not one in twenty of the sentences was carried into execution."[181] This discrepancy between law and practice bears witness, not only to the extent to which the minds of legislators were swayed by the idea of inspiring fear, but to the limitation of determent as a penal principle. It has been observed that the excessive severity of laws hinders their execution. "Society revolted against barbarities which the law prescribed. Men wronged by crimes, shrank from the shedding of blood, and forbore to prosecute: juries forgot their oaths and acquitted prisoners, against evidence: judges recommended the guilty to mercy."[182] Yet, in spite of all such deductions, there can be no doubt that the hangman had plenty to do. Hanging persons, says Mr. Andrews, was almost a daily occurrence in the earlier years of the nineteenth century, "for forging notes, passing forged notes, and other crimes which we now almost regard with indifference."[183] [Footnote 179: Staunton, in his Preface to _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, p. xxvii. _sq._] [Footnote 180: Wells Williams, _op. cit._ i. 392 _sq._] [Footnote 181: Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 471. May, _op. cit._ ii. 597.] [Footnote 182: May, _op. cit._ ii. 597.] [Footnote 183: Andrews, _op. cit._ p. 218. _Cf._ Olivecrona, _Om dödsstraffet_, p. x.] Another circumstance worth mentioning is, that in earlier times the detection of criminals was much rarer and more uncertain than it is now.[184] It has been argued on utilitarian grounds that, "to enable the value of the punishment to outweigh that of the profit of the offence, it must be increased, in point of magnitude, in proportion as it falls short in point of certainty."[185] But the rareness of detection would also for purely emotional reasons tend to increase the severity of the punishment. When one criminal out of ten or twenty is caught, the accumulated indignation of the public turns against him, and he becomes a scapegoat for all the rest. [Footnote 184: _Cf._ Morrison, _Crime and its Causes_, p. 175.] [Footnote 185: Bentham, _Principles of Morals and Legislation_, p. 184. _Cf._ Paley, _Moral and Political Philosophy_, vi. 9 (_Complete Works_, ii. 371).] However, the chief explanation of the great severity of certain criminal codes lies in their connection with despotism or religion or both.[186] An act which is prohibited {194} by law may be punished, not only on account of its intrinsic character, but for the very reason that it is illegal. When the law is, from the outset, an expression of popular feelings, the severity of the penalty with which it threatens the transgressor depends, in the first place, on the public indignation evoked by the act itself, independently of the legal prohibition of it. But the case is different with laws established by despotic rulers or ascribed to divine lawgivers. Such laws have a tendency to treat criminals not only as offenders against the individuals whom they injure or against society at large, but as rebels against their sovereign or their god. Their disobedience to the will of the mighty legislator incurs, or is supposed to incur, his anger, and is, in consequence, severely resented. But however severe they be, the punishments inflicted by the despot on disobedient subjects are not regarded as mere outbursts of personal anger. In the archaic State the king is an object of profound regard, and even of religious veneration. He is looked upon as a sacred being, and his decrees as the embodiment of divine justice. The transgression of any law he makes is, therefore, apt to evoke a feeling of public indignation proportionate to the punishment which he pleases to inflict on the transgressor. Again, as to acts which are supposed to arouse the anger of invisible powers, the people are anxious to punish them with the utmost severity so as to prevent the divine wrath from turning against the community itself. But the fear which, in such cases, lies at the bottom of the punishment, is certainly combined with genuine indignation against the offender, both because he rebels against God and religion, and because he thereby exposes the whole community to supernatural dangers. [Footnote 186: This has been previously pointed out by Prof. Durkheim, in his interesting essay, 'Deux lois de l'évolution pénale' (_L'année sociologique_, iv. [1899-1900], p. 64 _sqq._), with which I became acquainted only when the present chapter was already in type. Montesquieu observes (_De l'esprit des lois_, vi. 9 [_[OE]uvres_, p. 231]), "Il serait aisé de prouver que, dans tous ou presque tous les États d'Europe, les peines ont diminué ou augmenté à mesure qu'on s'est plus approché ou plus éloigné de la liberté."] {195} Various facts might be quoted in support of this explanation. Whilst the punishments practised among the lower races generally, are not conspicuous for their severity, there are exceptions to this rule among peoples who are governed by despotic rulers. Under the Ashanti code, even the most trivial offences are punishable with death.[187] In Madagascar, also, "death was formerly inflicted for almost every offence."[188] In Uganda the ordinary punishments were "death by fire, being hacked to pieces by reed splinters, fine, imprisonment in the stocks _mvuba_, or in the **slave fork _kaligo_, also mutilation. It is most common to see people deprived of an eye, or in some cases of both eyes; persons lacking their ears are also frequently met with."[189] Among the Wassukuma, whose chieftains used to have power of life and death over their subjects, a person who was guilty of disobedience to his ruler, or of some action which the ruler considered wicked and punishable, was condemned to death.[190] In the Sandwich Islands, "a chief takes the life of one of his own people for any offence he may commit, and no one thinks he has a right to interfere."[191] [Footnote 187: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 166.] [Footnote 188: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 374.] [Footnote 189: Ashe, _Two Kings of Uganda_, p. 293. _Cf._ Wilson and Felkin, _Uganda and the Egyptian Soudan_, i. 201.] [Footnote 190: Kollmann, _Victoria Nyanza_, p. 431.] [Footnote 191: Ellis, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 431.] In the old monarchies of America and Asia there was an obvious connection between the punishments prescribed by their laws and the religious-autocratic form of their governments. According to Garcilasso de la Vega, the Peruvians--among whom the most common punishment was death--maintained "that a culprit was not punished for the delinquencies he had committed, but for having broken the commandment of the Ynca, who was respected as God," and that, viewed in this light, the slightest offence merited to be punished with death.[192] In China the Emperor was regarded as the vicegerent of Heaven especially chosen to govern all nations, and was supreme in everything, holding at once the highest legislative and executive powers, without limit or control.[193] According {196} to ancient Japanese ideas, "the duty of a good Japanese consists in obeying the Mikado, without questioning whether his commands are right or wrong. The Mikado is god and vicar of all the gods, hence government and religion are the same."[194] In Rome the criminal law, which for a long time was characterised by great moderation,[195] gradually grew more severe according as absolutism made progress. Sylla, the dictator, not only put thousands of citizens to death by proscription without any form of trial, but fixed, in the Cornelian criminal code, for heinous offences the punishment called _aquæ et ignis interdictio_. Under the Emperors some new and cruel capital punishments were introduced, such as burning alive and exposing to wild beasts; whilst at the same time offences such as driving away horses or cattle were made capital.[196] In mediæval and modern Europe the increase of the royal power was accompanied by increasing severity of the penal codes. Every crime came to be regarded as a crime against the King. Indeed, breach of the King's peace became the foundation of the whole Criminal Law of England; the right of pardon, for instance, as a prerogative of the Crown, took its origin in the fact that the King was supposed to be injured by a crime, and could therefore waive his remedy.[197] And the King was not only regarded as the fountain of social justice, but as the earthly representative of the heavenly lawgiver and judge.[198] [Footnote 192: Garcilasso de la Vega, _op. cit._ i. 145.] [Footnote 193: Wells Williams, _op. cit._ i. 393.] [Footnote 194: Griffis, _Religions of Japan_, p. 92. _Cf._ _Idem_, _Mikado's Empire_, p. 100.] [Footnote 195: _Cf._ Livy, x. 9; Polybius, vi. 14; Gibbon, _History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_, v. 318, 326.] [Footnote 196: Mackenzie, _Studies in Roman Law_, pp. 408, 409, 414. Gibbon, _op. cit._ v. 320. _Cf._ Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 943.] [Footnote 197: Cherry, _Growth of Criminal Law in Ancient Communities_, pp. 68, 105.] [Footnote 198: Henke, _Grundriss einer Geschichte des deutschen peinlichen Rechts_, ii. 310. Abegg, _Die verschiedenen Strafrechtstheorieen_, p. 117. Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, p. 323.] Of the connection between punishment and the belief in supernatural agencies many instances are found already in the savage world.[199] The great severity with which certain {197} infractions of custom are punished has obviously a superstitious origin. In Polynesia, according to Ellis, "the prohibitions and requisitions of the tabu were strictly enforced, and every breach of them punished with death, unless the delinquents had some very powerful friends who were either priests or chiefs.[200] Among the western tribes of Torres Straits, "death was the penalty for infringing the rules connected with the initiation period _i.e._, for sacrilege."[201] Among the Port Lincoln aborigines the women and children are not allowed to see any of the initiation ceremonies, and "any impertinent curiosity on their part is punishable with death, according to the ancient custom."[202] Among the Masai, who believe that the boiling of milk will cause the cows to run dry, "any one caught doing so can only atone for the sin with a fearfully heavy fine, or, failing that, the insult to the holy cattle will be wiped out in his blood."[203] The penalty of death which is frequently imposed on incest or other sexual offences is largely due to the influence of religious or superstitious beliefs.[204] And in various cases of sacrilege the offender is offered up as a sacrifice to the resentful god.[205] [Footnote 199: Steinmetz, _Ethnol. Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, ii. 340 _sq._ The connection between punishment and religion has been emphasised by Prof. Durkheim (_Division du travail social_, p. 97 _sqq._) and M. Mauss ('La religion et les origines du droit pénal,' in _Revue de l'histoire des religions_, vols. xxxiv. and xxxv.). But Prof. Durkheim exaggerates the importance of this connection by assuming (p. 97) that "le droit pénal à l'origine était essentiellement religieux."] [Footnote 200: Ellis, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 394. _Cf._ Olmsted, _Incidents of a Whaling Voyage_, p. 248 _sq._; Mauss, in _op. cit._ xxxv. 55.] [Footnote 201: Haddon, 'Ethnography of the Western Tribes of Torres Straits,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xix. 335.] [Footnote 202: Schürmann, 'Aboriginal Tribes of Port Lincoln,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 234.] [Footnote 203: Johnston, _Kilima-njaro Expedition_, p. 425.] [Footnote 204: See _infra_, on Sexual Morality.] [Footnote 205: See _infra_, on Human Sacrifice.] According to Hebrew notions, it is man's duty to avenge offences against God; every crime involves a breach of God's law, and is punishable as such, and hardly any punishment is too severe to be inflicted on the ungodly.[206] These ideas were adopted by the Christian Church and by Christian governments.[207] The principle {198} stated in the Laws of Cnut, that "it belongs very rightly to a Christian king that he avenge God's anger very deeply, according as the deed may be,"[208] was acted upon till quite modern times, and largely contributed to the increasing severity of the penal codes. It was therefore one of the most important steps towards a more humane legislation when, in the eighteenth century, this principle was superseded by the contrary doctrine, "Il faut faire honorer la Divinité, et ne la venger jamais."[209] [Footnote 206: _Cf._ Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 162 _sq._] [Footnote 207: von Eicken, _Geschichte und System der mittelalterlichen Weltanschauung_, p. 563 _sqq._ Abegg, _op. cit._ p. 111 _sq._ Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 530 _sq._ Günther, _op. cit._ ii. 12 _sqq._ Henke, _op. cit._ ii. 310 _sq._ Brunner, _op. cit._ ii. 587.] [Footnote 208: _Laws of Cnut_, ii. 40.] [Footnote 209: Montesquieu, _De l'esprit des lois_, xii. 4 (_[OE]uvres_, p. 282).] From the fact, then, that crimes are punished not only as wrongs against individuals, but as wrongs against the State, and, especially, as wrongs against some despotic or semi-divine lawgiver, or against the Deity, it follows that even seemingly excessive punishments may, to a large extent, be regarded as manifestations of public resentment. This emotion does not necessarily demand like for like. The law of talion presupposes equality of rights; it is not applicable to impersonal offences, nor to offences against kings or gods. And as the demands of public resentment may exceed the _lex talionis_, so they may on the other hand fall short of it. Moreover, though the degree of punishment on the whole more or less faithfully represents the degree of indignation aroused by any particular crime in comparison with other crimes belonging to the same penal system, we must not take the comparative severity of the criminal laws of different peoples as a safe index to the intensity of their reprobation of crime. As we have seen before, the strength of moral indignation cannot be absolutely measured by the desire to cause pain to the offender. When the emotion of resentment is sufficiently refined, the infliction of suffering is regarded as a means rather than as an end. By all this I certainly do not mean to deny that punishment, though in the main an expression of public indignation, is also applied as a means of deterring from crime. Criminal law is preventive, its object is to forbid and {199} to warn, and it uses punishment as a threat. But the acts which the law forbids are, as a rule, such as public opinion condemns as wrong, and it is their wrongness that in all ages has been regarded as the justification of the penalties to which they are subject. It is true that there are instances in which the law punishes acts which in themselves are not apt to evoke public resentment, and others in which the severity of the punishment does not exactly correspond with the resentment they evoke. The State may have a right to sacrifice the welfare of individuals in order to attain some desirable end. It may have a right to do so in cases where no crime has been committed, it would therefore seem to be all the more justified in doing so when the evil has been preceded by a warning. And yet, in the case of punishment, it is only within narrow limits that such a right is granted to the State. To punish a person could not simply mean that he has to suffer for the benefit of the society; there is always opprobrium connected with punishment. Hence the scope which justice leaves for determent pure and simple is not wide. Sir James Stephen observes:--"You cannot punish anything which public opinion, as expressed in the common practice of society, does not strenuously and unequivocally condemn. To try to do so is a sure way to produce gross hypocrisy and furious reaction."[210] Experience shows that the fate of all disproportionately severe laws which make too liberal use of punishment as a deterrent is that they come to be little followed in practice and are finally annulled. As Gibbon says, "whenever an offence inspires less horror than the punishment awarded to it, the rigour of penal law is obliged to give way to the common feelings of mankind." [Footnote 210: Stephen, _Liberty, Equality, Fraternity_, p. 159. _Cf._ Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 91 _sq._] Numerous data, to be referred to in following chapters, will show how faithfully punishment reflects the emotion of resentment, and how impossible it would be to explain it from considerations of social utility without close reference {200} to the feeling of justice. Why, for instance, should the attempt to commit a crime, when its failure obviously depends on mere chance, be punished less severely than the accomplished crime, if not because the indignation it arouses is less intense? Would not the same amount of suffering be requisite to deter a person from attempting to murder his neighbour as to deter him from actually committing the murder? And is there any reason to suppose that the unsuccessful offender is less dangerous to society than he who succeeds? All the facts referring to criminal responsibility, as we shall see, suggest resentment, not determent, as the basis of punishment, and so does the gradation of the punishment conformably to the magnitude of the crime.[211] According to the principle of determent, as expressed by Anselm von Feuerbach and others, punishment should be neither more nor less severe than is necessary for the suppression of crime.[212] But if this rule were really acted upon, the penalties imposed, especially on minor offences, which the law has been utterly unable to suppress, would certainly be much less lenient than they actually are. Moreover, if there were no intrinsic connection between punishment and resentment, how could we explain the predilection of early law for the principle of talion--an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life--[213] which, as we have seen, so frequently regulates the custom of revenge? [Footnote 211: _Cf._ Durkheim, _Division du travail social_, p. 93 _sq._] [Footnote 212: von Feuerbach, _Ueber die Strafe als Sicherungsmittel vor künftigen Beleidigungen des Verbrechers_, p. 83. von Gizycki, _Introduction to the Study of Ethics_, p. 188.] [Footnote 213: On this subject, see Günther, _op. cit._ _passim_.] The criminal law of a society may thus, on the whole, be taken for a faithful exponent of moral sentiments prevalent in that society at large. The attempt to make law independent of morality, and to allot to it a kingdom of its own, is really, I think, only an excuse for the moral shortcomings which it reveals if scrutinised from the standpoint of a higher morality. Law does not show us the moral consciousness in its refinement. But refinement {201} is a rare thing, and criminal law is in the main on a level with the unreflecting morality of the vulgar mind. Philosophers and theorisers on law would do better service to humanity if they tried to persuade people not only that their moral ideas require improvement, but that their laws, so far as possible, ought to come up to the improved standard, than they do by wasting their ingenuity in sophisms about the sovereignty of Law and its independence of the realm of Justice. CHAPTER VIII THE GENERAL NATURE OF THE SUBJECTS OF ENLIGHTENED MORAL JUDGMENTS THE subjects of moral judgments call for a very comprehensive investigation, which will occupy the main part of this work. As already said, we shall first discuss the general nature, and afterwards the particular branches, of those phenomena which have a tendency to evoke moral condemnation or moral praise; and in each case our investigation will be both historical and explanatory. The present chapter, however, will be neither the one nor the other. It seems desirable to examine the general nature of the subjects of moral valuation from the standpoint of the enlightened moral consciousness before dealing with the influence which their various elements have come to exercise upon moral judgments in the course of evolution. By doing this, we shall be able, from the outset, to distinguish between elements which are hardly discernible, or separable, at the lower stages of mental development, as also to fix the terminology which will be used in the future discussion. Moral judgments are commonly said to be passed upon conduct and character. This is a convenient mode of expression, but the terms need an explanation. Conduct has been defined sometimes as "acts adjusted to ends,"[1] sometimes as acts that are not only adjusted to ends, but definitely willed.[2] The latter definition is too {203} narrow for our present purpose, because, as will be seen, it excludes from the province of conduct many phenomena with reference to which moral judgments are passed. The same may be said of the former definition also, which, moreover, is unnecessarily wide, including as it does an immense number of phenomena with which moral judgments are never concerned. Though no definition of conduct could be restricted to such phenomena as actually evoke moral emotions, the term "conduct" seems, nevertheless, to suggest at least the possibility of moral valuation, and is therefore hardly applicable to such "acts adjusted to ends" as are performed by obviously irresponsible beings. It may be well first to fix the meaning of the word "act." [Footnote 1: Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, i. 5.] [Footnote 2: _E.g._, Mackenzie, _Manual of Ethics_, p. 85.] According to Bentham, acts may be distinguished as external, or acts of the body, and internal, or acts of the mind. "Thus, to strike is an external or exterior act: to intend to strike, an internal or interior one."[3] But this application of the word is neither popular nor convenient. The term "act" suggests something besides intention, whilst, at the same time, it suggests something besides muscular contractions. To intend to strike is no act, nor are the movements involved in an epileptic fit acts. [Footnote 3: Bentham, _Principles of Morals and Legislation_, p. 73.] An act comprises an event and its immediate mental cause. The event is generally spoken of as the outward act, but this term seems to be too narrow, since the intentional production of a mental fact--for instance, a sensation, or an idea, or an emotion like joy or sorrow or anger--may be properly styled an act. The objection will perhaps be raised that I confound acts with their consequences, and that what I call the "event" is, as Austin maintains, nothing but bodily movements. But Austin himself admits that he must often speak of "acts" when he means "acts and their consequences," since "most of the names which seem to be names of acts, are names of acts, coupled with certain of their consequences, {204} and it is not in our power to discard these forms of speech."[4] I regard the so-called consequences of acts, in so far as they are intended, as acts by themselves, or as parts of acts. [Footnote 4: Austin, _Lectures on Jurisprudence_, i. 427, 432 _sq._] The very expression "outward act" implies that acts also have an inner aspect. Intention, says Butler, "is part of the action itself."[5] By intention I understand a volition or determination to realise the idea of a certain event; hence there can be only one intention in one act. Certain writers distinguish between the immediate and the remote intentions of an act. Suppose that a tyrant, when his enemy jumped into the sea to escape him, saved his victim from drowning with a view to inflicting upon him more exquisite tortures. The immediate intention, it is maintained, was to save the enemy from drowning, the remote intention was to inflict upon him tortures.[6] But I should say that, in this case, we have to distinguish between two acts, of which the first was a means of producing the event belonging to the second, and that, when the former was accomplished, the latter was still only in preparation. A distinction has, moreover, been drawn between the direct and the indirect intention of an act:--"If a Nihilist seeks to blow up a train containing an Emperor and others, his direct intention may be simply the destruction of the Emperor, but indirectly also he intends the destruction of the others who are in the train, since he is aware that their destruction will be necessarily included along with that of the Emperor."[7] In this case we have two intentions, and, so far as I can see, two acts, provided that the nihilist succeeded in carrying out his intentions, namely (1) the blowing up of the train, and (2) the killing of the emperor; the former of these acts does not even necessarily involve the latter. But I fail to see that there is any intention at all to kill other {205} persons. Professor Sidgwick maintains that it would be thought absurd to say that, in such a case, the nihilist "did not intend" to kill them;[8] but the reason for this is simply the vagueness of language, and a confusion between a psychical fact and the moral estimate of that fact. It might be absurd to bring forward the nihilist's non-intention as an extenuation of his crime; but it would hardly be correct to say that he intended the death of other passengers, besides that of the emperor, when he only intended the destruction of the train, though this intention involved an extreme disregard of the various consequences which were likely to follow. He knowingly exposed the passengers to great danger; but if we speak of an intention on his part to expose them to such a danger, we regard this exposure as an act by itself. [Footnote 5: Butler, 'Dissertation II. Of the Nature of Virtue,' in _Analogy of Religion, &c._ p. 336.] [Footnote 6: Mackenzie, _op. cit._ p. 60. The example is borrowed from Stuart Mill, _Utilitarianism_, p. 27 note.] [Footnote 7: Mackenzie, _op. cit._ p. 61. _Cf._ Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_, p. 202, n. 1.] [Footnote 8: Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 202, n. 1. On the subject of "indirect intention," _cf._ also Bentham, _op. cit._ pp. 84, 86.] A moral judgment may refer to a mere intention, independently of its being realised or not. Moreover, the moral judgments which we pass on acts do not really relate to the event, but to the intention. In this point moralists of all schools seem to agree.[9] Even Stuart Mill, who drew so sharp a distinction between the morality of the act and the moral worth of the agent, admits that "the morality of the action depends entirely upon the intention."[10] The event is of moral importance only in so far as it indicates a decision which is final. From the moral point of view there may be a considerable difference between a resolution to do a certain thing in a distant future and a resolution to do it immediately. However determined a person may be to commit a crime, or to perform a good deed, the idea of the immediacy of the event may, in the last moment, induce him to change his mind. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." External events are generally the direct causes of our moral emotions; indeed, without the _doing_ of harm and the _doing_ of good, the moral consciousness would never {206} have come into existence. Hence the ineradicable tendency to pass moral judgments upon acts, even though they really relate to the final intentions involved in acts. It would be both inconvenient and useless to deviate, in this respect, from the established application of terms. And no misunderstanding can arise from such application if it be borne in mind that by an "act," as the subject of a moral judgment, is invariably understood the event _plus_ the intention which produced it, and that the very same moral judgment as is passed on acts would also, on due reflection, be recognised as valid with reference to final decisions in cases where accidental circumstances prevented the accomplishment of the act. [Footnote 9: Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 201.] [Footnote 10: Stuart Mill, _Utilitarianism_, p. 27 note. _Cf._ James Mill, _Fragment on Mackintosh_, p. 376.] It is in their capacity of volitions that intentions are subjects of moral judgments. What is perfectly independent of the will is no proper object of moral blame or moral praise. On the other hand, any volition may have a moral value. But, so far as I can see, there are volitions which are not intentions. A person is morally accountable also for his deliberate wishes, and the reason for this is that a deliberate wish is a volition. I am aware that, by calling deliberate wishes "volitions," I offend against the terminology generally adopted by psychologists. However, a deliberate wish is not only from a moral point of view--as being a proper subject of moral valuation--but psychologically as well, so closely akin to a decision, that there must be a common term comprising both. In the realm of conations, deliberate wishes and decisions form together a province by themselves. In contradistinction to mere conative impulses, they are expressions of a person's character, of his will. A deliberate wish may just as well as a decision represent his "true self." It has been argued that a person may will one thing and yet wish the opposite thing. Locke observes:--"A man whom I cannot deny, may oblige me to use persuasions to another, which, at the same time I am speaking, I may wish may not prevail upon him. In this case it is plain the will and desire run counter, I will the action that {207} tends one way, whilst my desire tends another, and that the direct contrary way."[11] Yet in this case I either do not intend to persuade the man, but only to discharge my office by speaking to him words which are apt to have a persuasive effect on him; or, if I do intend to persuade him, I do not in the same moment feel any deliberate wish to the contrary, although I may feel such a wish before or afterwards. We cannot simultaneously have an intention to do a thing and a deliberate wish not to do it. [Footnote 11: Locke, _Essay concerning Human Understanding_, ii. 21. 30 (_Philosophical Works_, p. 219).] If it is admitted that moral judgments are passed on acts simply in virtue of their volitional character, it seems impossible to deny that such judgments may be passed on the motives of acts as well. By "motive" I understand a conation which "moves" the will, in other words, the conative cause of a volition.[12] The motive itself may be, or may not be, a volition. If it is, it obviously falls within the sphere of moral valuation. The motive of an act may even be an intention, but an intention belonging to another act. When Brutus helped to kill Cæsar in order to save his country, his intention to save his country was the cause, and therefore the motive, of his intention to kill Cæsar. The fact that an intention frequently acts as a motive has led some writers to the conclusion that the motive of an act is a part of the intention. But if the intention of an act is part of the act itself, and a motive is the cause of an intention, the motive of an intention cannot be a part of that intention, since a part cannot be the cause of the whole of which it forms a part. [Footnote 12: "The term 'motive,'" says Professor Stout (_Groundwork of Psychology_, p. 233 _sq._) "is ambiguous. It may refer to the various conations which come into play in the process of deliberation and tend to influence its result. Or it may refer to the conations which we mentally assign as the ground or reason of our decision when it has been fully formed." Motive, in the former sense of the term, is not implied in what I here understand by motive. On the other hand, it should be observed that there are motives not only for decisions, but for deliberate wishes--another circumstance which shows the affinity between these two classes of mental facts.] But even motives which, being neither deliberate wishes {208} nor intentions, consist of non-volitional conations, and, therefore, are no proper subjects of moral valuation, may nevertheless indirectly exercise much influence on moral judgments. Suppose that a person without permission gratifies his hunger with food which is not his own. The motive of his act is a non-volitional conation, an appetite, and has consequently no moral value. Yet it must be taken into account by him who judges upon the act. Other things being equal, the person in question is less guilty in proportion as his hunger is more intense. The moral judgment is modified by the pressure which the non-volitional motive exercises upon the agent's will. The same is the case when the motive of an act is the conative element involved in an emotion. If a person commits a certain crime under the influence of anger, he is not so blamable as if he commits the same crime in cold blood. Thus, also, it is more meritorious to be kind to an enemy from a feeling of duty, than to be kind to a friend from a feeling of love. No man deserves blame or praise for the pressure of a non-volitional conation upon his will, unless, indeed, such a pressure is due to choice, or unless it might have been avoided with due foresight. But a person may deserve blame or praise for not resisting that impulse, or for allowing it to influence his will for evil or good. It is true that moral judgments are commonly passed on acts without much regard being paid to their motives;[13] but the reason for this is only the superficiality of ordinary moral estimates. Moral indignation and moral approval are, in the first place, aroused by conspicuous facts, and, whilst the intention of an act is expressed in the act itself, its motive is not. But a conscientious judge cannot, like the multitude, be content with judging of the surface only. Stuart Mill, in his famous statement that "the motive has nothing to do with the morality of the action, though much with the worth of the agent,"[14] has drawn a distinction {209} between acts and agents which is foreign to the moral consciousness. It cannot be admitted that "he who saves a fellow creature from drowning does what is morally right, whether his motive be duty, or the hope of being paid for his trouble." He ought, of course, to save the other person from drowning, but at the same time he ought to save him from a better motive than a wish for money. It may be that "he who betrays his friend that trusts him is guilty of a crime, even if his object be to serve another friend to whom he is under greater obligations";[15] but surely his guilt would be greater if he betrayed his friend, say, in order to gain some personal advantage thereby. Intentions and motives are subjects of moral valuation not separately, but as a unity; and the reason for this is that moral judgments are really passed upon men as acting or willing, not upon acts or volitions in the abstract. It is true that our detestation of an act is not always proportionate to our moral condemnation of the agent; people do terrible things in ignorance. But our detestation of an act is, properly speaking, a moral emotion only in so far as it is directed against him who committed the act, in his capacity of a moral agent. We are struck with horror when we hear of a wolf eating a child, but we do not morally condemn the wolf. [Footnote 13: _Cf._ James Mill, _Fragment on Mackintosh_, p. 376; Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 364.] [Footnote 14: Stuart Mill, _Utilitarianism_, p. 26.] [Footnote 15: _Ibid._ p. 26.] A volition may have reference not only to the doing of a thing, but to the abstaining from doing a thing. It may form part not only of an act, but of a forbearance. A forbearance is morally equivalent to an act, and the volition involved in it is equivalent to an intention. "Sitting still, or holding one's peace," says Locke, "when walking or speaking are proposed, though mere forbearances, requiring as much the determination of the will, and being as often weighty in their consequences as the contrary actions, may, on that consideration, well enough pass for actions too."[16] Yet it is hardly correct to call them acts. Bentham's division of acts into acts of commission {210} and acts of omission or forbearance[17] is not to be recommended. A not-doing I do not call an act, and the purpose of not doing I do not call an intention.[18] But the fact remains that a forbearance involves a distinct volition, which, as such, may be the subject of moral judgment no less than the intention involved in an act. [Footnote 16: Locke, _op. cit._ ii. 21, 28 (_Philosophical Works_, p. 218).] [Footnote 17: Bentham, _op. cit._ p. 72.] [Footnote 18: _Cf._ Clark, _Analysis of Criminal Liability_, p. 42.] Willing not to do a thing must be distinguished from not willing to do a thing; forbearances must be distinguished from omissions. An omission--in the restricted sense of the word--is characterised by the absence of volition. It is, as Austin puts it, "the not doing a given act, without adverting (at the time) to the act which is not done."[19] Now moral judgments refer not only to willing, but to not-willing as well, not only to acts and forbearances, but to omissions. It is curious that this important point has been so little noticed by writers on ethics, although it constitutes a distinct and extremely frequent element in our moral judgments. It has been argued that what is condemned in an omission is really a volition, not the absence of a volition; that an omission is bad, not because the person did not do something, but because he did something else, "or was in such a condition that he could not will, and is condemned for the acts which brought him into that condition."[20] In the latter case, of course, the man cannot be condemned for his omission, since he cannot be blamed for not doing what {211} he "could not will"; but to say that an omission is condemned only on account of the performance of some act is undoubtedly a psychological error. If a person forgets to discharge a certain duty incumbent on him, say, to pay a debt, he is censured, not for anything he did, but for what he omitted to do. He is blamed for not doing a thing which he ought to have done, because he did not think of it; he is blamed for his forgetfulness. In other words, his guilt lies in his negligence. [Footnote 19: Austin, _op. cit._ i. 438.] [Footnote 20: Alexander, _Moral Order and Progress_, p. 34 _sq._ So, also, Professor Sidgwick maintains (_op. cit._ p. 60) that "the proper immediate objects of moral approval or disapproval would seem to be always the results of a man's volitions so far as they were intended--_i.e._, represented in thought as certain or probable consequences of such volitions," and that, in cases of carelessness, moral blame, strictly speaking, attaches to the agent, only "in so far as his carelessness is the result of some wilful neglect of duty." A similar view is taken by the moral philosophy of Roman Catholicism. (Göpfert, _Moraltheologie_, i. 113). Binding, again, assumes (_Die Normen_, ii. 105 _sqq._) that a person may have a volition without having an idea of what he wills, and that carelessness implies a volition of this kind. Otherwise, he says, the will could not be held responsible for the result. But, as we shall see immediately, the absence of a volition may very well be attributed to a defect of the will, and the will thus be regarded as the cause of an unintended event. To speak of a volition or will to do a thing of which the person who wills it has no idea seems absurd.] Closely related to negligence is heedlessness, the difference between them being seemingly greater than it really is. Whilst the negligent man omits an act which he ought to have done, because he does not think of it, the heedless man does an act from which he ought to have forborne, because he does not consider its probable or possible consequences.[21] In the latter case there is acting, in the former case there is absence of acting. But in both cases the moral judgment refers to want of attention, in other words, to not-willing. The fault of the negligent man is that he does not think of the act which he ought to perform, the fault of the heedless man is that he does not think of the probable or possible consequences of the act which he performs. In rashness, again, the party adverts to the mischief which his act may cause, but, from insufficient advertence assumes that it will not ensue; the fault of the rash man is partial want of attention.[22] Negligence, heedlessness, and rashness, are all included under the common term "carelessness." [Footnote 21: The meaning of the word "negligence," in the common use of language, is very indefinite. It often stands for heedlessness as well, or for carelessness. I use it here in the sense in which it was applied by Austin (_op. cit._ i. 439 _sq._).] [Footnote 22: Austin, _op. cit._ i. 440 _sq._ Clark, _op. cit._, p. 101.] Our moral judgments of blame, however, are concerned with not-willing only in so far as this not-willing is attributed to a defect of the will, not to the influence of intellectual or other circumstances for which no man can be held responsible. That power in a person which we call his "will" is regarded by us as a cause, not only of {212} such events as are intended, but of such events as we think that the person "could" have prevented by his will. And just as, in the case of volitions, the guilt of the party is affected by the pressure of non-voluntary motives, so in the case of carelessness mental facts falling outside the sphere of the will must be closely considered by the conscientious judge. But nothing is harder than to apply this rule in practice. Equally difficult is it, in many cases, to decide whether a person's behaviour is due to want of advertence, or is combined with a knowledge of what his behaviour implies, or of the consequences which may result from it--to decide whether it is due to carelessness, or to something worse than carelessness. For him who refrains from performing an obligatory act, though adverting to it, "negligent" is certainly too mild an epithet, and he who knows that mischief will probably result from his deed is certainly worse than heedless. Yet even in such cases the immediate object of blame may be the absence of a volition--not a want of attention, but a not-willing to do, or a not-willing to refrain from doing, an act in spite of advertence to what the act implies or to its consequences. I may abstain from performing an obligatory act though I think of it, and yet, at the same time, make no resolution not to perform it. So, too, if a man is ruining his family by his drunkenness, he may be aware that he is doing so, and yet he may do it without any volition to that effect. In these cases the moral blame refers neither to negligence or heedlessness, nor to any definite volition, but to disregard of one's duty or of the interests of one's family. At the same time, the transition from conscious omissions into forbearances, and the transition from not-willing to refrain from doing into willing to do, are easy and natural; hence the distinction between willing and not-willing may be of little or no significance from an ethical point of view. For this reason such consequences of an act as are foreseen as certain or probable have commonly been included under the term "intention,"[23] {213} often as a special branch of intention--"oblique," or "indirect," or "virtual" intention;[24] but, as was already noticed, this terminology is hardly appropriate. I shall call such consequences of an act as are foreseen by the agent, and such incidents as are known by him to be involved in his act, "the known concomitants" of the act. When the nihilist blows up the train containing an emperor and others, with a view to killing the emperor, the extreme danger to which he exposes the others is a known concomitant of his act. So, also, in most crimes, the breach of law, as distinct from the act intended, is a known concomitant of the act, inasmuch as the criminal, though aware that his act is illegal, does not perform it for the purpose of violating the law. As Bacon said, "no man doth a wrong for the wrong's sake, but thereby to purchase himself profit, or pleasure, or honour, or the like."[25] [Footnote 23: _Cf._ Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 202.] [Footnote 24: Bentham, _op. cit._ p. 84. Austin, _op. cit._ i. 480. Clark, _op. cit._ pp. 97, 100.] [Footnote 25: Bacon, 'Essay IV. Of Revenge' in _Essays_, p. 45. _Cf._ Grotius, _De jus belli et pacis_, ii. 20. 29. 1: "Vi quisquam gratis malus est."] Absence of volitions, like volitions themselves, give rise not only to moral blame, but to moral praise. We may, for instance, applaud a person for abstaining from doing a thing, beneficial to himself but harmful to others, which, in similar circumstances, would have proved too great a temptation to any ordinary man; and it does not necessarily lessen his merit if the opposite alternative did not even occur to his mind, and his abstinence, therefore could not possibly be ascribed to a volition. Very frequently moral praise refers to known concomitants of acts rather than to the acts themselves. The merit of saving another person's life at the risk of losing one's own, really lies in the fact that the knowledge of the danger did not prevent the saver from performing his act; and the merit of the charitable man really depends on the loss which he inflicts upon himself by giving his property to the needy. In these and analogous cases of self-sacrifice for a good end, the merit, strictly speaking, consists in not-willing to {214} avoid a known concomitant of a beneficial act. But there are instances, though much less frequent, in which moral praise is bestowed on a person for not-willing to avoid a known concomitant which is itself beneficial. Thus it may on certain conditions be magnanimous of a person not to refrain from doing a thing, though he knows that his deed will benefit somebody who has injured him, and towards whom the average man in similar circumstances would display resentment. All these various elements into which the subjects of moral judgments may be resolved, are included in the term "conduct." By a man's conduct in a certain case is understood a volition, or the absence of a volition in him--which is often, but not always or necessarily, expressed in an act, forbearance, or omission--viewed with reference to all such circumstances as may influence its moral character. In order to form an accurate idea of these circumstances, it is necessary to consider not only the case itself, but the man's character, if by character is understood a person's will regarded as a continuous entity.[26] The subject of a moral judgment is, strictly speaking, a person's will conceived as the cause either of volitions or of the absence of volitions; and, since a man's will or character is a continuity, it is necessary that any judgment passed upon him in a particular case, should take notice of his will as a whole, his character. We impute a person's acts to _him_ only in so far as we regard them as a result or manifestation of his character, as directly or indirectly due to his will. Hume observes:--"Actions are, by their very nature, temporary and perishing; and where they proceed not from some _cause_ in the character and disposition of the person who performed them, they can neither redound to his honour, if good; nor infamy, if evil. . . . The person is not answerable for them; and as they proceeded {215} from nothing in him, that is durable and constant, and leave nothing of that nature behind them, it is impossible he can, upon their account, become the object of punishment or vengeance."[27] There is thus an intimate connection between character and conduct as subjects of moral valuation. When judging of a man's conduct in a special instance, we judge of his character, and when judging of his character, we judge of his conduct in general. [Footnote 26: _Cf._ Alexander, _op. cit._ p. 49: "Character is simply that of which individual pieces of conduct are the manifestation." To the word "character" has also been given a broader meaning. According to John Grote (_Treatise on the Moral Ideals_, p. 442), a person's character "is his habitual way of thinking, feeling, and acting."] [Footnote 27: Hume, _Enquiry concerning Human Understanding_, viii. 2 (_Philosophical Works_, iv. 80). _Cf._ _Idem_, _Treatise of Human Nature_, iii. 2 (_ibid._ ii. 191). See also Schopenhauer, _Die beiden Grundprobleme der Ethik_ (_Sämmtliche Werke_, vol. vii.), pp. 123, 124, 281.] It will perhaps be remarked that moral judgments are passed not only on conduct and character, but on emotions and opinions; for instance, that resentment in many cases is deemed wrong, and love of an enemy is deemed praiseworthy, and that no punishment has been thought too severe for heretics and unbelievers. But even in such instances the object of blame or praise is really the will. The person who feels resentment is censured because his will has not given a check to that emotion, or because the hostile attitude of mind has led up to a definite volition. Very frequently the irascible impulse in resentment or the friendly impulse in kindly emotion develops into a volition to inflict an injury or to bestow a benefit on its object; and the words resentment and love themselves are often used to denote, not mere emotions, but states of mind characterised by genuine volitions. An emotion, or the absence of an emotion, may also, when viewed as a symptom, give rise to, and be the apparent subject of, a moral judgment. We are apt to blame a person whose feelings are not affected by the news of a misfortune which has befallen his friend, because we regard this as a sign of an uncharitable character. We may be mistaken, of course. The same person might have been the first to try to prevent the misfortune if it had been in his power; but we judge from average cases. As for opinions and beliefs, it may be said that they involve responsibility in so far as they are supposed to {216} depend on the will. Generally it is not so much the opinion itself but rather the expression, or the outward consequence, of it that calls forth moral indignation; and in any case the blame, strictly speaking, refers either to such acts, or to the cause of the opinion within the will. That a certain belief, or "unbelief," is never as such a proper object of censure is recognised both by Catholic and Protestant theology. Thomas Aquinas points out that the _sin_ of unbelief consists in "contrary opposition to the faith, whereby one stands out against the hearing of the faith, or even despises faith," and that, though such unbelief itself is in the intellect, the cause of it is in the will. And he adds that in those who have heard nothing of the faith, unbelief has not the character of a sin, "but rather of a penalty, inasmuch as such ignorance of divine things is a consequence of the sin of our first parent."[28] Dr. Wardlaw likewise observes:--"The Bible condemns no man for not knowing what he never heard of, or for not believing what he could not know. . . . Ignorance is criminal only when it arises from wilful inattention, or from aversion of heart to truth. Unbelief involves guilt, when it is the effect and manifestation of the same aversion--of a want of will to that which is right and good."[29] To shut one's eyes to truth may be a heinous wrong, but nobody is blamable for seeing nothing with his eyes shut. [Footnote 28: Thomas Aquinas, _Summa Theologica_, ii.-ii. 10. 1 _sq._] [Footnote 29: Wardlaw, _Sermons on Man's Accountableness for his Belief, &c._ p. 38.] After these preliminary remarks, which refer to the scrutinising and enlightened moral consciousness, we shall proceed to discuss in detail, and from an evolutionary point of view, the various elements of which the subjects of moral judgments consist. CHAPTER IX THE WILL AS THE SUBJECT OF MORAL JUDGMENT AND THE INFLUENCE OF EXTERNAL EVENTS HOWEVER obvious it may be to the reflecting moral consciousness that the only proper object of moral blame and praise is the will, it would be a hasty conclusion to assume that moral judgments always and necessarily relate to the will. There are numerous facts which tend to show that such judgments are largely influenced by external events involved in, or resulting from, the conduct of men. Some peoples are said to make no distinction between intentional and accidental injuries. Most statements to this effect refer to revenge or compensation. Von Martius states that, among the Arawaks, "the blood-revenge is so blind and is practised so extensively, that many times an accidental death leads to the destruction of whole families, both the family of him who killed and of the family of the victim";[1] and, according to Sir E. F. Im Thurn, the smallest injury done by one Guiana Indian to another, even if unintentional, must be atoned by the suffering of a similar injury.[2] Adair, in his work on the North American Indians, says that they pursued the law of retaliation with such a fixed eagerness, that formerly if a little boy shooting birds in the high and thick cornfields unfortunately chanced slightly to wound another with his childish arrow, "the young vindictive fox was excited by custom to watch his ways with the utmost earnestness, till the wound was returned in as equal a manner {218} as could be expected."[3] Among the Ondonga in South Africa,[4] the Nissan Islanders in the Bismarck Archipelago,[5] and certain Marshall Islanders,[6] the custom of blood-revenge makes no distinction between wilful and accidental homicide. Among the Kasias "destruction of human life, whether by accident or design, in open war or secret, is always the cause of feud among the relations of the parties."[7] It seems that the blood-revenge of the early Greeks was equally indiscriminate.[8] As for the blood-feuds of the ancient Teutons, Wilda maintains that, even in prehistoric times, it was hardly conformable to good custom to kill the involuntary manslayer;[9] but there is every reason to believe that custom made no protest against it. According to the myth of Balder, accident was no excuse for shedding blood. Loke gives to Hödur the mistletoe twig, and asks him to do like the rest of the gods, and show Balder honour, by shooting at him with the twig. Hödur throws the mistletoe at Balder, and kills him, not knowing its power. According to our notions, blind Hödur is perfectly innocent of his brother's death; yet the avenger, Vali, by the usual Germanic vow, neither washes nor combs his hair till he has killed Hödur. It is also instructive to note that the narrator of this story finds himself called upon to explain, and, in a manner, to excuse the Asas for not punishing Hödur at once, the place where they were assembled being a sacred place.[10] We find survivals of a similar view in laws of a comparatively recent date. The earliest of the Norman customals declares quite plainly that the man who kills his lord by misadventure must die.[11] And, according to a passage in 'Leges Henrici I.,' in case A by mischance falls from a tree upon B and kills him, then, if B's kinsman must needs have vengeance, he may climb a tree and fall upon A.[12] This provision has been justly represented as a curious instance of a growing appreciation of moral differences, which has not dared to abolish, but has tried to circumvent the ancient rule.[13] [Footnote 1: von Martius, _Beiträge zür Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 693 _sq._] [Footnote 2: Im Thurn, _Among the Indians of Guiana_, p. 214.] [Footnote 3: Adair, _History of the American Indians_, p. 150.] [Footnote 4: Rautanen, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 341.] [Footnote 5: Sorge, _ibid._ p. 418.] [Footnote 6: Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xiv. 443. See also _Idem_, _Shakespeare vor dem Forum der Jurisprudenz_, p. 188.] [Footnote 7: Fisher, in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, ix. 835.] [Footnote 8: Rohde, _Psyche_, pp. 237, 238, 242.] [Footnote 9: Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 174.] [Footnote 10: _Snorri Sturluson_, 'Gylfaginning,' 50, in _Edda_, p. 59. _Cf._ Brunner, _Forschungen zur Geschichte des deutschen und französischen Rechtes_, p. 489.] [Footnote 11: Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the Time of Edward I._ ii. 482.] [Footnote 12: _Leges Henrici I._ xc. 7.] [Footnote 13: Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 471.] {219} Among the Kandhs "similar compensation is made in all cases both of excusable homicide and of manslaughter."[14] And the same is said to be the case among various other savages or barbarians.[15] [Footnote 14: Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 82.] [Footnote 15: Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, iii. 123. Ellis, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 223. Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 502 (Barea and Kunáma).] However, this want of discrimination between intentional and accidental injuries is not restricted to cases of revenge or compensation. Early punishment is sometimes equally indiscriminate. Among the Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush, "murder, justifiable homicide, and killing by inadvertence in a quarrel, are all classed as one crime, and punished in the same way. Extenuating circumstances are never considered. The single question asked is, Did the man kill the other? The penalty is an extremely heavy blood-ransom to the family of the slain man, or perpetual exile combined with spoliation of the criminal's property."[16] Parkyns tells us the following story from Abyssinia:--A boy who had climbed a tree, happened to fall down right on the head of his little comrade standing below. The comrade died immediately, and the unlucky climber was in consequence sentenced to be killed in the same way as he had killed the other boy, that is, the dead boy's brother should climb the tree in his turn, and tumble down on the other's head till he killed him.[17] The Cameroon tribes do not recognise the circumstance of accidental death:--"He who kills another accidentally must die. Then, they say, the friends of each are equal mourners."[18] Among the negroes of Accra, according to Monrad, accidental homicide is punished as severely as intentional.[19] [Footnote 16: Scott Robertson, _Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 440.] [Footnote 17: Parkyns, _Life in Abyssinia_, ii. 236 _sqq._] [Footnote 18: Richardson, 'Observations among the Cameroon Tribes of West Central Africa,' in _Memoirs of the International Congress of Anthropology_, Chicago, p. 203. See also Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 24 (Bakwiri); _ibid._ p. 51 (Banaka and Bapuku).] [Footnote 19: Monrad, _Guinea-Kysten og dens Indbyggere_, p. 88.] Yet it would obviously be a mistake to suppose that, at early stages of civilisation, people generally look only at the harm done, and not in the least at the will of him who did it. Even in the system of private redress we often {220} find a distinction made between intentional or foreseen injuries on the one hand, and unintentional and unforeseen injuries on the other. In many instances, whilst blood-revenge is taken for voluntary homicide, compensation is accepted for accidental infliction of death.[20] And sometimes the chief or the State interferes on behalf of the involuntary manslayer, protecting him from the persecutions of the dead man's family. [Footnote 20: _Cf._ Kohler, _Shakespeare vor dem Forum der Jurisprudenz_, p. 188, n. 1.] Among the African Wapokomo intention makes a difference in the revenge.[21] Among the Papuans of the Tami Islands blood-revenge is common in the case of murder, but is not exacted in the case of accidental homicide; the involuntary manslayer has only to pay a compensation and to leave the community for a certain length of time.[22] Among the Namaqua Hottentots custom demands that compensation should be accepted for unintentional killing.[23] We meet with the same principle among the Albanians[24] and the Slavs,[25] in the past history of other European peoples,[26] in ancient Yucatan,[27] and in the religious law of Muhammedanism.[28] Among the Kabyles of Algeria, "si les m[oe]urs n'autorisent jamais la famille victime d'un homicide volontaire à amnistier un crime, elles lui permettent presque toujours de pardonner la mort qui ne résulte que d'une maladresse ou d'un accident." They have a special ceremony by which the family of the deceased grant pardon to the involuntary manslayer, but the pardon must be given unanimously. The manslayer then becomes a member of the _kharuba_, or _gens_, of the deceased.[29] Among the Omahas, "when one man killed another accidentally, he was rescued by the interposition of the chiefs, and subsequently was punished as if he were a murderer, but only for a year or two."[30] The {221} ancient law of the Hebrews, which recognised the right and duty of private revenge in cases of intentional homicide, laid down special rules for homicide by misfortune. He who killed another unawares and unwittingly might flee to a city of refuge, where he was protected against the avenger of blood as long as he remained there.[31] In ancient Rome the involuntary manslayer seems to have been exposed to the blood-feud until a law attributed to Numa ordained that he should atone for the deed by providing a ram to be sacrificed in his place.[32] [Footnote 21: Kraft, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 292.] [Footnote 22: Bamler, quoted by Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xiv. 380.] [Footnote 23: Fritsch, _Die Eingeborenen Süd-Afrika's_, p. 363.] [Footnote 24: Gop[vc]evi['c], _Oberalbanien und seine Liga_, p. 327.] [Footnote 25: Miklosich, 'Blutrache bei den Slaven,' in _Denkschriften der kaiserl. Akademie der Wissensch. Philos.-histor. Classe_, Vienna, xxxvi. 131.] [Footnote 26: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 324. _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, iii. p. cxxiv. For the ancient Teutons, see _infra_, p. 226.] [Footnote 27: de Landa, _Relacion de las cosas de Yucatan_, p. 134.] [Footnote 28: _Koran_, iv. 94. _Cf._ Sachau, _Muhammedanisches Recht nach Schafiitischer Lehre_, p. 761 _sq._] [Footnote 29: Hanoteau and Letourneux, _La Kabylie_, iii. 68 _sq._] [Footnote 30: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 370.] [Footnote 31: _Deuteronomy_, iv. 42. _Numbers_, xxxv. 11 _sqq._ _Joshua_, xx. 3 _sqq._] [Footnote 32: Servius, _In Virgilii Bucolica_, 43. _Cf._ von Jhering, _Das Schuldmoment im römischen Privatrecht_, p. 11.] Among some peoples who accept compensation even for wilful murder, the blood-price is lower if life is taken unintentionally.[33] [Footnote 33: Beverley, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 215 (Wagogo). Dareste, _Nouvelles études d'histoire du droit_, p. 237 (Swanetians of the Caucasus).] According to Bowdich, "a person accidentally killing another in Ahanta, pays 5 oz. of gold to the family, and defrays the burial customs. In the case of murder, it is 20 oz. of gold and a slave; or, he and his family become the slaves of the family of the deceased."[34] Ancient Irish law imposed an Eric fine for accidental or unintentional homicide, to be paid to the relatives of the dead man, whilst a double fine was due for homicide where anger was shown, _i.e._, where probably there was what we should call "malice."[35] [Footnote 34: Bowdich, _Mission from Cape Castle to Ashantee_, p. 258, n. [double dagger].] [Footnote 35: Cherry, _Growth of Criminal Law in Ancient Communities_, p. 22.] In the punishments inflicted by many savages, a similar distinction is made between intentional and accidental harm, although, at the same time, some degree of guilt is frequently imputed to persons who, in our opinion, are perfectly innocent. Speaking of the West Australian aborigines, Sir G. Grey observes:--"If a native is slain by another wilfully, they kill the murderer, or any of his friends they can lay hands on. If a native kills another accidentally, he is punished according to the circumstances of the case." And the punishment may be severe enough. "For instance, if, in inflicting spear wounds as a punishment for some offence, one of the agents should spear the culprit through the thigh, and accidentally so injure the {222} femoral artery that he dies, the man who did so would have to submit to be speared through both thighs himself."[36] In New Guinea, according to Dr. Chalmers, murder is punished capitally, whereas a death caused by accident is expiated by a fine.[37] Among the Mpongwe, "except in the case of a chief or a very rich man, little or no difference is made between wilful murder, justifiable homicide, and accidental manslaughter."[38] Kafir law seems to demand no compensation for what is clearly proved to have been a strictly accidental injury to property, but the case is different in regard to accidental injuries to persons, if the injury be of a serious nature. Thus "it seems to make little or no distinction between wilful murder and any other kind of homicide; unless it be, perhaps, that in purely accidental homicide the full amount of the fine may not be so rigidly insisted upon."[39] Among the A-l[=u]r, in the case of accidental injuries, a compensation is paid to the injured party and a fine to the chief. Whilst the strict punishment for murder is death, the culprit is allowed to redeem himself if it cannot be proved that he committed the deed wilfully.[40] The Masai regard accidental homicide, or injury, as "the will of N'gai," "the Unknown," and "the elders arrange what compensation shall be paid to the injured person (if a male) or to the nearest relative. If a woman is killed by accident, all the killer's property becomes the property of the nearest relative."[41] The Eastern Central Africans, according to the Rev. D. Macdonald, "know the difference between an injury of accident and one of intention."[42] And so do the natives of Nossi-Bé and Mayotte, near Madagascar.[43] [Footnote 36: Grey, _Journals of Expeditions of Discovery in North-West and Western Australia_, ii. 238 _sq._] [Footnote 37: Chalmers, _Pioneering in New Guinea_, p. 179.] [Footnote 38: Burton, _Two Trips to Gorilla Land_, i. 105.] [Footnote 39: Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, pp. 113, 67, 60.] [Footnote 40: Stuhlmann, _Mit Emin Pascha ins Herz von Afrika_, p. 524.] [Footnote 41: Hinde, _The Last of the Masai_, p. 108.] [Footnote 42: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 11.] [Footnote 43: Walter, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 393.] Nay, there are instances of uncivilised peoples who entirely excuse, or do not punish, a person for an injury which he has inflicted by mere accident, even though they may compel him to pay damages for involuntary destruction of property. We are told that the Pennsylvania Indians "judge with calmness on all occasions, and decide with precision, or endeavour {223} to do so, between an accident and a wilful act; the first, they say, they are all liable to commit, and therefore it ought not to be noticed, or punished; the second being a wilful or premeditated act, committed with a bad design, ought on the contrary to receive due punishment,"[44] Among some of the Marshall Islanders unintentional wrongs are punished only if the injured party be a person of note, for instance, a chief, or a member of a chief's family.[45] Among the Papuans of the Tami Islands, "accidental injuries are not punished. Generally the culprit confesses his deed, and makes an apology. If he has caused the destruction of some valuable, he has to repair the loss."[46] Among the Wadshagga there is no punishment for an accidental hurt; but if anybody's property has been damaged thereby, a compensation amounting to one half of the damage may be required.[47] The Hottentots do not nowadays punish accidents, even in the case of homicide.[48] Among the Washambala a person is held responsible only for such injuries as he has inflicted intentionally or caused by carelessness.[49] In some parts of West Africa, if a man, woman, or child, not knowing what he or she does, damages the property of another person, "native justice requires, and contains in itself, that if it can be proved the act was committed in ignorance that was not a culpable ignorance, the doer cannot be punished according to the law."[50] [Footnote 44: Buchanan, _North American Indians_, p. 160 _sq._] [Footnote 45: Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xiv. 448.] [Footnote 46: Bamler, quoted by Kohler, _ibid._ xiv. 381.] [Footnote 47: Merker, quoted by Kohler, _ibid._ xv. 64.] [Footnote 48: Kohler, _ibid._ xv. 353.] [Footnote 49: Lang, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 261.] [Footnote 50: Miss Kingsley, in her Introduction to Dennett's _Notes on the Folklore of the Fjort_, p. xi.] These instances of occasional discrimination in savage justice are particularly interesting in the face of the fact that, even among peoples who have attained a higher degree of culture, innocent persons are often punished by law for bringing about events without any fault of theirs. It is a principle of the Chinese law that "all persons who kill or wound others purely by accident, shall be permitted to redeem themselves from the punishment of killing or wounding in an affray, by the payment in each case of a fine to the family of the person deceased or wounded."[51] But there are exceptions to this rule. Any {224} person who kills his father, mother, paternal grandfather or grandmother, and any wife who kills her husband's father, mother, paternal grandfather or grandmother, "purely by accident, shall still be punished with 100 blows and perpetual banishment to the distance of 3,000 _lee_. In the case of wounding purely by accident, the persons convicted thereof shall be punished with 100 blows and three years' banishment: in these cases, moreover, the parties shall not be permitted to redeem themselves from punishment by the payment of a fine, as usual in the ordinary cases of accident."[52] Again, slaves who accidentally kill their masters, "shall suffer death, by being strangled at the usual period."[53] It is also a characteristic provision of the Chinese law that an act of grace is necessary for relieving all those from punishment who have offended accidentally and inadvertently.[54] [Footnote 51: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. ccxcii. p. 314.] [Footnote 52: _Ibid._ sec. cccxix. p. 347. _Cf._ _ibid._ sec. ccxcii. p. 314.] [Footnote 53: _Ibid._ sec. cccxiv. p. 338.] [Footnote 54: _Ibid._ sec. xvi. p. 18.] It is said in the Laws of [Hv]ammurabi:--"If a man has struck a man in a quarrel, and has caused him a wound, that man shall swear 'I did not strike him knowing' and shall answer for the doctor. If he has died of his blows, he shall swear, and if he be of gentle birth he shall pay half a mina of silver. If he be the son of a poor man, he shall pay one-third of a mina of silver."[55] [Footnote 55: _Laws of [Hv]ammurabi_, 206 _sqq._] It has been observed that the purpose of the Hebrew law of sanctuary was not merely to protect the involuntary manslayer from blood-revenge, but at the same time to punish him and compel him to expiate the blood he has shed.[56] If he left the city of refuge before the death of the high-priest, the avenger of blood might kill him without incurring blood-guiltiness; and he was not permitted to purchase an earlier return to his possession with a money ransom.[57] [Footnote 56: Goitein, _Das Vergeltungsprincip im biblischen und talmudischen Strafrecht_, p. 25 _sq._ Keil, _Manual of Biblical Archæology_, ii. 371.] [Footnote 57: _Numbers_, xxxv. 26 _sqq._] According to the Laws of Manu, "he who damages the {225} goods of another, be it intentionally or unintentionally, shall give satisfaction to the owner and pay to the king a fine equal to the damage";[58] and various rites of expiation are prescribed for a person who kills a Brâhmana by accident,[59] whereas the intentional slaying of a Brâhmana is inexpiable.[60] [Footnote 58: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 288.] [Footnote 59: _Ibid._ xi. 73 _sqq._] [Footnote 60: _Ibid._ xi. 90. _Gautama_, xxi. 7. According to some authorities, however, the wilful slaying of a Brâhmana was expiable by a penance of greater severity (Bühler's note, in his translation of the 'Laws of Manu,' _Sacred Books of the East_, xxv. 449).] Demosthenes praises the Athenian law for making the penalty of unintentional homicide less than that of intentional. The punishment for murder was death, from which, however, before the sentence was passed, the murderer was at liberty to escape by withdrawing from his country and remaining in perpetual exile. But he who was convicted of involuntary homicide had to leave the country only for some shorter time, until he had appeased the relatives of the deceased.[61] As will be seen subsequently, the real object of this law was not so much to punish the involuntary manslayer, as to save him from being persecuted by the dead man's ghost, and to rid the community of a pollution. However, the Athenian law does not represent the ideas of early times. As Dr. Farnell observes, the constitution and the legend about the foundation of the court at the Palladium, which was established to try cases of unintentional blood-shedding, shows that the ancient practice was susceptible of improvement.[62] Nor does the Roman law, which, in its developed shape, with such a remarkable consistency carried out the Cornelian principle, "in maleficiis voluntas spectatur non exitus,"[63] seem to have been equally discriminate in early times.[64] In the Law of the Twelve Tables there are still some faint traces left of the notion that expiation was required of a person who accidentally shed human blood.[65] [Footnote 61: Demosthenes, _Contra Aristocratem_, 71 _sq._ p. 643 _sq._] [Footnote 62: Aristotle, _De republica Atheniensium_, 57. Farnell, _Cults of the Greek States_, i. 304.] [Footnote 63: _Digesta_, xlviii. 8. 14.] [Footnote 64: von Jhering, _Das Schuldmoment im römischen Privatrecht_, p. 16. Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 85.] [Footnote 65: Mommsen, _op. cit._ p. 85.] {226} The principle of ancient Teutonic law was, "Qui inscienter peccat, scienter emendet"--a maxim laid down by the compiler of the so-called 'Laws of Henry I.,'[66] no doubt translating an old English proverb.[67] In historic times, the law, distinguishing between _vili_ and _vadhi_, treats intentional homicide as worse than unintentional. In one case there can, in the other there can not, be a legitimate feud; and whilst wilful manslaughter can be expiated only by _wíte_, as well as _wer_, the involuntary manslayer has to pay _wer_ to the family of the dead, but no _wíte_ to the authorities.[68] Yet the _wer_ to be paid was not merely compensation for the loss sustained, as Wilda, misled by his enthusiasm for Teutonic law, has erroneously assumed;[69] it was punishment as well.[70] And the character of criminality attached to accidental homicide survived the system of _wer_. When homicide became a capital offence, homicide by misadventure was included in the law. However, the involuntary manslayer was not executed, but recommended to the "mercy" of the prince. This was the case in England in the later Middle Ages,[71] and in France still more recently.[72] And when the English law was altered, and the involuntary offender no longer was in need of mercy, he nevertheless continued to be treated as a criminal. He was punished with forfeiture of his goods. According to the rigour of the law such a forfeiture might have been exacted even in the year 1828, when the law was finally abolished after having fallen into desuetude in the course of the previous century.[73] [Footnote 66: _Leges Henrici I._ xc. 11.] [Footnote 67: Pollock and Maitland, _History of the English Law before the Time of Edward I._ i. 54.] [Footnote 68: Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 545 _sqq._, 594. _Idem_, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. 165. Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 471.] [Footnote 69: Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 578.] [Footnote 70: Geyer, _Die Lehre von der Nothwehr_, p. 87 _sq._ Trummer _Vorträge über Tortur, &c._ i. 345. Brunner, _Forschungen_, p. 505 _sq._] [Footnote 71: Bracton, _De Legibus et Consuetudinibus Angliæ_, fol. 134, vol. ii. 382 _sq._; fol. 104 b, vol. ii, 152 _sq._ Brunner, _Forschungen_, p. 494 _sqq._ Biener, _Das englische Geschwornengericht_, i. 120, 392. Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 479.] [Footnote 72: Beaumanoir, _Les coutumes du Beauvoisis_, 69, vol. ii. 483. Esmein, _Histoire de la procédure criminelle en France_, p. 255.] [Footnote 73: Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, iii. 77.] If men at the earlier stages of civilisation generally {227} attach undue importance to the outward aspect of conduct, the same is still more the case with their gods. The Tshi-speaking peoples of the Gold Coast believe that the god Sasabonsum "takes delight in destroying all those who have offended him, even though the offence may have been accidental and unintentional"; whereas, among the same people, it is the custom that even deaths resulting from accidents, not to speak of minor injuries, are compensated for by a sum of money.[74] Miss Kingsley says she is unable, from her own experience, to agree with Mr. Dennett's statement with reference to the Fjort, that ignorance would save the man who had eaten prohibited food. From what she knows, Merolla's story is correct: the man, though he eat in ignorance, dies or suffers severely. "It is true," she adds, "that one of the doctrines of African human law is that the person who offends in ignorance, that is not a culpable ignorance, cannot be punished; but this merciful dictum I have never found in spirit law. Therein if you offend, you suffer; unless you can appease the enraged spirit, neither ignorance nor intoxication is a feasible plea in extenuation."[75] The Omahas believe that to eat of the totem, even in ignorance, would cause sickness, not only to the eater, but also to his wife and children.[76] [Footnote 74: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, pp. 35, 301.] [Footnote 75: Miss Kingsley, in her Introduction to Dennett's _Folklore of the Fjort_, p. xxviii.] [Footnote 76: Frazer, _Totemism_, p. 16.] Speaking of the sacred animals of the ancient Egyptians, Herodotus says, "Should any one kill one of these beasts, if wilfully, death is the punishment; if by accident, he pays such fine as the priests choose to impose. But whoever kills an ibis or a hawk, whether wilfully or by accident, must necessarily be put to death."[77] According to the Chinese penal code, "whoever destroys or damages, whether intentionally or inadvertently, the altars, mounds, or terraces consecrated to the sacred and imperial rites, shall suffer 100 blows, and be perpetually banished to distance {228} of 2000 _lee_."[78] In these cases the punishment inflicted by human hands is obviously a reflection of the supposed anger of superhuman beings. [Footnote 77: Herodotus, ii. 65. _Cf._ Pomponius Mela, 9.] [Footnote 78: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. clviii. p. 172.] The Shintoist prays for forgiveness of errors which he has committed unknowingly.[79] According to the Vedic hymns, whoever with or without intention offends against the eternal ordinances of Varuna, the All-knowing and Sinless, arouses his anger, and is bound with the bonds of the god--with calamity, sickness, and death.[80] Forgiveness is besought of Varuna for sins that have been committed in unconsciousness;[81] even sleep occasions sin.[82] The singer Vasishtha is filled with pious grief, because daily against his will and without knowledge he offends the god and in ignorance violates his decree.[83] "All sages," say the Laws of Manu, "prescribe a penance for a sin unintentionally committed"; such a sin "is expiated by the recitation of Vedic texts, but that which men in their folly commit intentionally, by various special penances."[84] Among the present Hindus, "even in cases of accidental drinking of spirits through ignorance on the part of any of the three twice-born classes, nothing short of a repetition of the initial sacramentary rites, effecting a complete regeneration, is held sufficient to purge the sin."[85] [Footnote 79: Selenka, _Sonnige Welten_, p. 210 _sq._] [Footnote 80: _Cf._ Kaegi, _Rigveda_, p. 66 _sq._; Oldenberg, _Die Religion des Veda_, p. 289.] [Footnote 81: _Rig-Veda_, v. 85. 8.] [Footnote 82: _Ibid._ vii. 86. 6; x. 164. 3.] [Footnote 83: _Ibid._ vii. 88. 6. _Cf._ Kaegi, _op. cit._ p. 68.] [Footnote 84: _Laws of Manu_, xi. 45 _sq._ _Cf._ _Vasishtha_, 20.] [Footnote 85: Rájendralála Mitra, _Indo-Aryans_, i. 393.] In the Greek literature there are several instances of guilt being attached to the accidental transgression of some sacred law, the transgressor being perfectly unaware of the nature of his deed. Oedipus is the most famous example of this. Actaeon is punished for having seen Diana. Pausanias, the Spartan king, made sacrifice to Zeus Phyxius, to atone for the death of the maiden whom he had slain by misfortune.[86] [Footnote 86: Farnell, _op. cit._ i. 72.] The Babylonian psalmist, assuming that one of the {229} gods is angry with him because he is suffering pain, exclaims:--"The sin which I committed I know not. The transgression I committed I know not. The affliction which was my food--I know it not. The evil which trampled me down--I know it not. The lord in the wrath of his heart has regarded me; the god in the fierceness of his heart has punished me."[87] In another psalm it is said:--"He knows not his sin against the god, he knows not his transgression against the god and the goddess. Yet the god has smitten, the goddess has departed from him."[88] [Footnote 87: Zimmern, _Babylonische Busspsalmen_, p. 63.] [Footnote 88: Sayce, _Hibbert Lectures on the Religion of the Ancient Babylonians_, p. 505. _Cf._ Mürdter-Delitzsch, _Geschichte Babyloniens und Assyriens_, p. 38.] So, also, the Hebrew psalmist cries out, "Who can understand his errors? cleanse thou me from secret faults."[89] Unintentional error, as Mr. Montefiore observes, would be as liable to incur divine punishment as the most voluntary crime, if it infringed the tolerably wide province in which the right or sanctity of Yahveh was involved.[90] Whilst a deliberate moral iniquity was punished under the penal law, a sin committed "through ignorance, in the holy things of the Lord," required a sin- or trespass-offering for its expiation.[91] Speaking of the developed sacrificial system of the Jews, Professor Moore remarks, "The general rule in the Mishna is that any transgression the penalty of which, if wilful, would be that the offender be cut off, requires, if committed in ignorance or through inadvertence, a _[h.]a[t.][t.][=a]th_ [or sin-offering]; the catalogue of these transgressions ranges from incest and idolatry to eating the (internal) fat of animals and imitating the composition of the sacred incense, but does not include the commonest offences against morals."[92] The Rabbis also maintained that a false oath, even if made unconsciously, involves man in sin, and is punished as such.[93] {230} We meet with a similar opinion in mediæval Christianity. The principle laid down by St. Augustine,[94] and adopted by Canon Law,[95] that "ream linguam non facit, nisi mens rea," was not always acted upon. Various penitentials condemned to penance a person who, in giving evidence, swore to the best of his belief, in case his statement afterwards proved untrue.[96] In other cases, also, the Church prescribed penances for mere misfortunes. If a person killed another by pure accident, he had to do penance--in ordinary cases, according to most English penitentials, for one year,[97] according to various continental penitentials, for five[98] or seven[99] years; whereas, according to the Penitential of Pseudo-Theodore, he who accidentally killed his father or mother was to atone his deed with a penance of fifteen years,[100] and he who accidentally killed his son with a penance of twelve.[101] The Scotists even expressly declared that the external deed has a moral value of its own, which increases the goodness or badness of the agent's intention; and though this doctrine was opposed by Thomas Aquinas, Bonaventura, Suarez, and other leading theologians, it was nevertheless admitted by them that, according to the will of God, certain external deeds entail a certain accidental reward, the so-called _aureola_.[102] In some cases the secular law, also, punishes misadventure on religious grounds. Thus the Salic law treated with great severity any person who accidentally put fire to a church, although it imposed no penalty on other cases of {231} unintentional incendiary;[103] and even to this day the Russian criminal law prescribes penitence for homicide by misadventure, "in order to quiet the conscience of the culprit."[104] According to the Koran, he who kills a believer by mistake shall expiate his deed, not only by paying blood-money to the family of the dead (unless they remit it), but by setting free a believing slave; and as to him who cannot find the means, "let him fast for two consecutive months--a penance this from God."[105] [Footnote 89: _Psalms_, xix. 12.] [Footnote 90: Montefiore, _Hibbert Lectures on the Religion of the Ancient Hebrews_, p. 103. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 515 _sq._] [Footnote 91: _Leviticus_, iv. 22 _sqq._; v. 15 _sqq._ _Numbers_, xv. 24 _sqq._] [Footnote 92: Moore, 'Sacrifice,' in Cheyne and Black, _Encyclopædia Biblica_, iv. 4205.] [Footnote 93: Montefiore, _op. cit._ p. 558.] [Footnote 94: St. Augustine, _Sermones_, clxxx. 2 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, xxxviii. 973).] [Footnote 95: Gratian, _Decretum_, ii. 22. 2. 3.] [Footnote 96: _P[oe]nitentiale Bedæ_, v. 3 (Wasserschleben, _Bussordnungen der abendländischen Kirche_, p. 226). _P[oe]nit. Egberti_, vi. 3 (_ibid._ p. 238). _P[oe]nit. Pseudo-Theodori_, xxiv. 5 (_ibid._ p. 593).] [Footnote 97: _P[oe]nit. Theodori_, i. 4. 7 (_ibid._ p. 188). _P[oe]nit. Bedæ_, iv. 5 (_ibid._ p. 225). _P[oe]nit. Egberti_, iv. 11 (_ibid._ p. 235). According to _P[oe]nit. Pseudo-Theodori_, xxi. 2 (_ibid._ p. 586), the penance was to last for five years.] [Footnote 98: _P[oe]nit. Hubertense_, 2 (_ibid._ p. 377). _P[oe]nit. Merseburgense_, 2 (_ibid._ p. 391). _P[oe]nit. Bobiense_, 4 (_ibid._ p. 408). _P[oe]nit. Vindobonense_, 2 (_ibid._ p. 418). _P[oe]nit. Cummeani_, vi. 2 (_ibid._ p. 478). _P[oe]nit. XXXV. Capitulornm_, 1 (_ibid._ p. 506). _P[oe]nit. Vigilanum_, 27 (_ibid._ p. 529).] [Footnote 99: _P[oe]nit. Parisiense_, 1 (_ibid._ p. 412). _P[oe]nit. Floriacense_, 2 (_ibid._ p. 424).] [Footnote 100: _P[oe]nit. Pseudo-Theodori_, xxi. 18 (_ibid._ p. 588).] [Footnote 101: _P[oe]nit. Pseudo-Theodori_, xxi. 19 (_ibid._ 588).] [Footnote 102: Göpfert, _Moraltheologie_, i. 185.] [Footnote 103: _Lex Salica_ (Harold's text), 71. Brunner, _Forschungen_, p. 507, n. 1.] [Footnote 104: Foinitzki, in _Le droit criminel des états européens_, edited by von Liszt, p. 531.] [Footnote 105: _Koran_, iv. 94.] How shall we explain all these facts? Do they faithfully represent ideas of moral responsibility? Do they indicate that, at the earlier stages of civilisation, the outward event as such, irrespectively of the will of the agent, is an object of moral blame? Most of the statements which imply a perfect absence of discrimination between accident and intention, refer to the system of private redress. Under this system a personal injury is regarded as a matter which the injured party or his kin have to settle for themselves. It certainly does not allow them to treat the offender just as they please; as we have seen, it is more or less regulated by custom. But at the same time it makes considerable allowance for the personal feelings of the sufferer, and these feelings are apt to be neither impartial nor sufficiently discriminate. Whether, in a savage community, public opinion prescribes, or merely permits, revenge in cases of accidental injury, is a question which the ordinary observations of travellers leave unanswered. It is important to note that one of the first steps which early custom or law took towards a restriction of the blood-feud was to save the life of the involuntary manslayer. Moreover, in many cases where the system of revenge has been succeeded by punishment, the injured party may still have a voice in the matter. In Abyssinia, for instance, "a life for a life is the sentence passed upon the murderer; but, obtaining {232} the consent of the relatives of the deceased, he is authorised by law to purchase his pardon."[106] According to ancient Swedish law, an injury could not be treated as accidental unless the injured party acknowledged it as such.[107] In England, even in the days of Henry III., the king could not protect the manslayer from the suit of the dead man's kin, although he had granted him pardon on the score of misadventure.[108] Indeed, so recently as 1741, a royal order was made for a hanging in chains "on the petition of the relations of the deceased."[109] And to this day English criminal courts, when dealing with some slight offence, mitigate the punishment "because the prosecutor does not press the case," or even give him leave to settle the matter and withdraw the prosecution.[110] [Footnote 106: Harris, _Highlands of Æthiopia_, ii, p. 94.] [Footnote 107: von Amira, _Nordgermanische Obligationenrecht_, i. 382.] [Footnote 108: _Three Early Assize Rolls for the County of Northumberland_, _sæc. XIII_, p. 98.] [Footnote 109: Amos, _Ruins of Time_, p. 23.] [Footnote 110: Kenny, _Outlines of Criminal Law_, p. 23.] In the case of accidental homicide, deference may also have to be shown for the supposed feelings of the dead man's ghost, which, angry and bloodless, is craving for revenge and thirsting for blood. To leave its desires ungratified would be both dangerous and unmerciful. That this has something to do with the rigid demand of life for life in the case of homicide by misadventure seems all the more likely as in some instances when the involuntary manslayer is pardoned, other blood is to be shed instead of his. Among the Yao and Wayisa, near Lake Nyassa, it is the custom "by way of propitiation to give up a slave or some relative of the criminal's, to 'go along with the one who was slain,' and this seems to be invariably done when one is killed by accident, in which case the slayer may escape, the deputy taking as it were his place."[111] We may assume that a similar idea underlies the ancient Roman law which provided a ram to be sacrificed in the place of the involuntary manslayer. [Footnote 111: Macdonald, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 108.] But the dead man's ghost not only persecutes his own family if **neglectful of their duty, it also attacks the manslayer {233} and cleaves to him like a miasma. The manslayer is consequently regarded as unclean, and has, both for his own sake and for the sake of the community in which he lives, to undergo some ceremony of purification in order to rid himself of the dangerous and infectious pollution. This notion will be illustrated in a following chapter. In the present connection I merely desire to point out that the pollution is there, whether the shedding of blood was intentional or accidental. And, as will be shown, though this state of uncleanness does not intrinsically involve guilt, it easily becomes a cause of moral disapproval, whilst the ceremony of purification is apt to be looked upon in the light of punishment. We shall also find that the notion of a persecuting ghost may be replaced by the notion of an avenging god, it being a fact of common occurrence that the doings or functions of one mysterious being are transferred to another. We shall, finally, see that the infection of uncleanness is shunned by gods even more than it is shunned by men; and this largely helps to explain the attitude of religion towards unintentional and unforeseen shedding of human blood. There are other, more general reasons for the want of discrimination often displayed by religion in regard to the accidental transgression of a religious law. When a thing is _taboo_ in the strict sense of the word, it is supposed to be charged with mysterious energy which will injure or destroy the person who eats or touches the forbidden thing, whether he does so wilfully or by mistake. As Professor Jevons correctly observes, "the action of taboo is always mechanical; contact with the tabooed object communicates the taboo infection as certainly as contact with water communicates moisture. . . . The intentions of the taboo-breaker have no effect upon the action of the taboo; he may touch in ignorance, or for the benefit of the person he touches, but he is tabooed as surely as if his motive were irreverent or his action hostile."[112] So, also, according to primitive notions, the effect of a curse or an {234} oath is purely mechanical; hence a person who swears falsely in ignorance exposes himself to no less danger than a person who perjures himself knowingly. As regards religious offences in the strictest sense of the term--that is, offences against some god which are supposed to arouse his resentment--it should be remembered that, just as a man who is hurt is unable to judge on the matter as coolly as does the community at large, so a god whose ordinances are transgressed is thought to be less discriminating in his anger than a disinterested human judge, and, consequently, more apt to be influenced by the external event. And where nearly every calamity is regarded as a divine punishment, a person who is suffering without knowing what sin he has committed, naturally infers that a god is punishing him for some secret fault. [Footnote 112: Jevons, _Introduction to the History of Religion_, p. 91.] Thus it may be that, in the point which we are discussing, as in various other respects, the religious beliefs of a people do not faithfully represent their general notions of moral responsibility. It is profoundly wrong to assume, from the legend of Oedipus and other similar cases, that the ancient Greeks, in general, held a person "equally responsible for an accident which occurs to him, and for an act of which the agent is aware." Even the transgression of a sacred law, when committed in ignorance, seems to have excited pitiful horror rather than moral indignation. Oedipus had killed his father in self-defence, and married his mother, perfectly ignorant of his relation to them. The gods punished the Thebans with pestilence for harbouring such a wretch on their soil. But when "time that sees all, found him out in his unwitting sin," it was not blame, but terror and deep compassion for the unhappy man that, according to the tragedian,[113] spoke from the lips of the people. Moreover, in the latter tragedy Oedipus persistently vindicates his innocence:--"Whatever I have done was done unwittingly"--"Before the law I have no guilt." And, addressing himself to Creon, who has accused him of parricide and incest, he {235} exclaims:--"O shameless soul, where, thinkest thou, falls this thy taunt,--on my age, or on thine own? Bloodshed--incest --misery--all this thy lips have launched against me,--all this that I have borne, woe is me! by no choice of mine: for such was the pleasure of the gods, wroth, haply, with the race from of old. . . Tell me, now, --if, by voice of oracle, some divine doom was coming on my sire, that he should die by a son's hand, how couldst thou justly reproach me therewith, who was then unborn, whom no sire had yet begotten, no mother's womb conceived? And if, when born to woe--as I was born--I met my sire in strife, and slew him, all ignorant what I was doing, and to whom,--how couldst thou justly blame the unknowing deed?[114] Never was a more pathetic appeal made to the court of Justice from the indiscriminate verdict of angry gods. [Footnote 113: Sophocles, _[OE]dipus Tyrannus_.] [Footnote 114: _Idem_, _[OE]dipus Coloneus_, 960 _sqq._ (Jebb's translation, p. 155).] Whilst the grossest want of discrimination may thus be explained from revengeful feelings and superstitious beliefs, there still remain a multitude of cases which must be regarded as genuine expressions of moral indignation. As to these, it should, first, be remembered that even the reflecting moral consciousness may hold a person blamable for the unintentional and unforeseen infliction of an injury, namely, in cases where it assumes want of proper foresight. Now, as we know, it is often difficult enough to discern whether, or to what extent, an unintended injury is due to carelessness on the part of the agent; sometimes even it is no easy thing to tell whether an injury was intended or not. It is not to be expected, then, that distinctions of so subtle a nature should be properly made by the uncultured mind, and least of all is it to be expected that such distinctions should be embodied in early custom and law, which are based on average cases and allow of no minute individualisation. It has been observed that the roughness of Teutonic justice may be partly explained from the difficulty in getting any proof of intention or of its absence, from the lack of any proper distinctions between {236} misadventure and carelessness, and from the fact that the so-called misadventures of early times covered many a blameworthy act.[115] And all this holds good not merely of the ancient Teutons. It may further be said that the more defective the power of discrimination, the greater is the tendency to presume guilt. In Morocco a man who runs away after killing another is presumed to have committed the deed intentionally, however innocent he really may be. Among the Teutons the presumption was always against the manslayer; he had to proclaim what he had done, and to prove that the deed was not intended[116]--unless, indeed, the misadventure belonged to a certain type of injuries which by their very nature entailed no guilt. For instance, if a man carried a spear level on his shoulder and another ran upon the point, he was free from blame; whereas, if harm ensued by pure accident from a distinct act, the agent was liable.[117] As von Amira remarks, the Swedish notion of _vadhaværk_ was not a merely negative conception, but implied that there was danger connected with the act.[118] [Footnote 115: Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ i. 55; ii. 475, 483. von Amira, _Nordgermanisches Obligationenrecht_, i. 377 _sq._] [Footnote 116: Wilda, _op. cit._ i. 345. Brunner, _Forschungen_, p. 500 _sq._ Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 471.] [Footnote 117: Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 584. Trummer, _op. cit._ i. 427. Brunner, _Forschungen_, p. 499 _sq._ von Amira, 'Recht,' in Paul's _Grundriss der germanischen Philologie_, ii. pt. ii. 172. Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ i. 53 _sq._] [Footnote 118: von Amira, _Nordgermanisches Obligationenrecht_, i. 377.] Where the distinction between guilt and innocence is difficult to draw, it may be wise policy to presume guilt. According to Sir R. Burton, the Mpongwe jurists say that little or no difference is generally made between wilful murder and accidental manslaughter in order that people should be more careful;[119] and a similar idea may lie at the bottom of the Dahoman law which punishes capitally any person whose house takes fire, even if it happens accidentally.[120] But the presumption of guilt is not only, nor in the first place, owing to considerations of social utility, combined with a reckless indifference to undeserved suffering. {237} The unreflecting mind is shocked by the harm done, and cares little for the rest. It does not press the question whether the harm was caused by the agent's will or not. It does not make any serious attempt to separate the external event from the will, and it is inclined to assume that there is a coincidence between the two. This is not altogether bad psychology since, as a rule, men will what they do. "Le fait juge l'homme," says an old French proverb; and in morals, also, "the tree is known by the fruit." However, there are cases of injuries in which not even uncivilised men can fail to discover, at once, the absence of any evil intention. This certainly does not mean that the injurer escapes all censure. Every feeling of pain, sympathetic pain included, which is caused by a living being, has a certain tendency to give rise to an aggressive impulse towards its cause; hence savages, even though they distinguish between intentional and unintentional harm, are inclined to impute some degree of guilt to any person who involuntarily commits a forbidden deed, though he be in reality quite innocent. But the reason for this is only want of due reflection. If it is clearly understood that a certain event is the result of merely external circumstances, that it was neither intended by the agent nor could have been foreseen by him, in other words, that it in no way was caused by his will--then there could be no moral indignation at all. It would be simply absurd to suppose that an outward event as such, assumed to be absolutely unconnected with any defect of will, could ever give rise to moral blame. Such an event could not even call forth a feeling of revenge. Sudden anger itself cools down when it appears that the cause of the inflicted pain was a mere accident. Even a dog, as has been observed, distinguishes between being stumbled over and being kicked. [Footnote 119: Burton, _Two Trips to Gorilla Land_, i. 105.] [Footnote 120: Ellis, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 224.] That the indiscriminate attitude of early custom and law towards accidental injuries does not imply any difference in principle between the enlightened and unenlightened moral consciousness as regards the subject of moral valuation, {238} becomes perfectly obvious when we consider what a great influence the outward event exercises upon moral estimates even among ourselves. "The world judges by the event, and not by the design," says Adam Smith. "Everybody agrees to the general maxim, that as the event does not depend on the agent, it ought to have no influence upon our sentiments, with regard to the merit or propriety of his conduct. But when we come to particulars, we find that our sentiments are scarce in any one instance exactly conformable to what this equitable maxim would direct."[121] Even in the criminal laws of civilised nations chance still plays a prominent part. According to the present law of England, though a person is not criminally liable for the involuntary and unforeseen consequences of acts which are themselves permissible, the case is different if he commits an act which is wrong and criminal,[122] or, as it seems, even if he commits an act which is wrong without being forbidden by law.[123] Thus death caused unintentionally is regarded as murder, if it takes place within a year and a day[124] as the result of an unlawful act which amounts to a felony.[125] For instance, a person kills another accidentally by shooting at a domestic fowl with intent to steal it, and he will probably be convicted of murder.[126] Again, a near-sighted man drives at a rapid rate, sitting at the bottom of his cart, and thereby causes the death of a foot-passenger; he is guilty of manslaughter.[127] A man recklessly and wantonly throws a lighted match into a haystack, careless whether it take fire or not, and so burns down the stack; his crime is arson. But if he did not intend to throw the lighted match on the haystack, he would probably not be guilty of any offence at all, "unless death was caused, in which case he would be guilty of manslaughter."[128] Even if the unintended death is to some {239} extent owing to the negligence of the injured party himself, it may be laid to the charge of the injurer. This at all events was the law in Hale's time, "If a man," he says, "receives a wound, which is not in itself mortal, but either for want of helpful applications, or neglect thereof, it turns to a gangrene, or a fever, and that gangrene or fever be the immediate cause of his death, yet, this is murder or manslaughter in him that gave the stroke or wound."[129] So far as I know, the severity of the English law on unintentional homicide--which, in fact, is a survival of ancient Teutonic law[130]--is without a parallel in the European legislation of the present day. Both the French[131] and the German[132] laws are much less severe; and so is the Ottoman Penal Code,[133] and Muhammedan law in general.[134] Yet the unintended deadly consequence of a criminal act always affects the punishment more or less. [Footnote 121: Adam Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 152.] [Footnote 122: According to Harris (_Principles of the Criminal Law_, p. 156), the act should be a _malum in se_, not merely a _malum quia prohibitum_.] [Footnote 123: Kenny, _op. cit._ p. 41.] [Footnote 124: Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, iii. 8.] [Footnote 125: _Ibid._ iii. 22.] [Footnote 126: _Ibid._ iii. 83.] [Footnote 127: Harris, _op. cit._ p. 157.] [Footnote 128: Stephen, _op. cit._ ii. 113.] [Footnote 129: Hale, _History of the Pleas of the Crown_, i. 428.] [Footnote 130: _Lex Wisigothorum_, vi. 5. 6: "Si dum quis calce, vel pugno, aut quacumque percussione injuriam conatur inferre, homicidii extiterit occasio, pro homicidio puniatur."] [Footnote 131: _Code Pénal_, art. 309.] [Footnote 132: _Strafgesetzbuch_, art. 226.] [Footnote 133: _Ottoman Penal Code_, art. 177. _Cf._ _ibid._ art. 174.] [Footnote 134: Sachau, _op. cit._ p. 761 _sq._] I presume that nobody after due deliberation would maintain that the moral guilt of the offender is enhanced by the death of him whom he involuntarily happened to kill. Sir James Stephen, nevertheless, makes an attempt to defend, from a moral point of view, the severe English law on the subject, which he thinks "is much to be preferred to the law of France." He asks, "Is there anything to choose morally between the man who violently stabs another in the chest with the definite intention of killing him, and a man who stabs another in the chest with no definite intention at all as to the victim's life or death, but with a feeling of indifference whether he lives or dies?"[135] Perhaps not. But I venture to maintain that there is a considerable moral difference between the man who shoots at another with the definite intention of killing him, and the man who, firing at another's chickens, with the intention of stealing them, accidentally kills the owner whom {240} he does not see. It will perhaps be argued that the law has a utilitarian purpose, its object being to make people more careful. But if this were the case one would expect that the law should punish with equal severity acts which involve the same degree of danger, and which result in similar injuries. To fire at a sparrow may be as dangerous to people's lives as to fire at another person's chicken, and, in the latter case, the danger is hardly increased by the intention to steal the chicken. I take the truth to be this. The degree of punishment corresponds to the degree of indignation aroused by the deed. Public imagination is shocked by the actual event. The agent, being guilty either of criminal intention, or of gross disregard of other people's interests, or of criminal heedlessness, is a proper object of punishment. Owing to that want of discrimination which characterises the popular mind, his guilt is exaggerated on account of the grave consequences of his act; and the result is that he is punished not only for the fault of his will, but for his bad luck as well. Sir James Stephen seems to admit this, when saying that the shock which the offence gives to the public feeling requires that the offender should himself suffer "a full equivalent for what he has inflicted," from which "he ought to be excused only on grounds capable of being understood by the commonest and most vulgar minds."[136] Though thoroughly dissenting from the opinion that criminal law should try to gratify the feelings of "the commonest and most vulgar minds," I think that, as a matter of fact, it is not much above their standard of justice, being in the main an expression of public sentiments. [Footnote 135: Stephen, _op. cit._ iii. 91 _sq._] [Footnote 136: _Ibid._ iii. 91.] * * * * * In the cases which we have hitherto considered the external event which a person brings about involuntarily, either makes him liable to punishment though he really is free from guilt, or increases his punishment beyond the limits of his guilt. But the influence of chance also shows {241} itself in the opposite way. A person who is guilty of carelessness generally escapes all punishment if no injurious result follows, and an unsuccessful attempt to commit a criminal act, if punished at all, is, as a rule, punished much less severely than the accomplished act. The Hottentots nowadays punish attempt, but only leniently.[137] The Wadshagga punish it less severely than the accomplished act.[138] Among some of the Marshall Islanders it is not punished at all.[139] The same holds good of the Ossetes[140] and Swanetians[141] of the Caucasus, as also of ancient Russian law.[142] The Teutons, as a general rule, had no punishment for him who tried to do harm, but failed; and if they did punish an unsuccessful attempt, the penalty was out of proportion lenient.[143] This feature of ancient Teutonic law has had a lasting effect upon European legislation, largely through the influence it exercised upon the Italian jurists of the Middle Ages,[144] whose theories laid the foundation of modern laws and doctrines on attempt. In conformity with the Roman law, they held attempts to commit crimes to be punishable, and in atrocious cases they even admitted that the attempt might be subject to the same punishment as the accomplished crime. But their general theory was that it should be punished less severely, and that the penalty should be lenient in proportion as the actual deed was remote from the act intended.[145] These views were generally adopted by the later legislation. Among present European lawbooks, the French Code Pénal[146] is almost the only one that punishes an attempt {242} with the same severity as the finished crime.[147] And the French law on the subject is of modern origin; before the year IV. the present rule was applied only to the _conatus proximus_ in a few specified cases of a very heinous character.[148] [Footnote 137: Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xv. 353.] [Footnote 138: Merker, quoted by Kohler, _ibid._ xv. 63.] [Footnote 139: Kohler, _ibid._ xiv. 418.] [Footnote 140: Kovalewsky, _Coutume contemporaine_, p. 296 _sq._] [Footnote 141: Dareste, _Nouvelles études d'histoire du droit_, p. 237.] [Footnote 142: Kovalewsky, _op. cit._ pp. 291, 299.] [Footnote 143: Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 598 _sqq._ Zachariä, _Die Lehre vom Versuche der Verbrechen_, i. 164 _sqq._; ii. 130 _sq._ Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 558 _sqq._ Pollock and Maitland, ii. 475, 509.] [Footnote 144: Seeger, _Versuch der Verbrechen in der Wissenschaft des Mittelalters_, p. 8.] [Footnote 145: Zachariä, _op. cit._ i. 169; ii. 141. von Feuerbach-Mittermaier, _Lehrbuch des Peinlichen Rechts_, p. 74.] [Footnote 146: _Code Pénal_, art. 2: "Toute tentative de crime qui aura été manifestée par un commencement d'exécution, si elle n'a été suspendue ou si elle n'a manqué son effet que par des circonstances indépendantes de la volonté de son auteur, est considérée comme le crime même."] [Footnote 147: Chauveau and Hélie, _Théorie du Code Pénal_, i. 347 _sq._] [Footnote 148: _Ibid._ i. 337 _sq._] Besides the provision of the Code Pénal concerning attempt, there are a few other exceptions, of an earlier date, to the general rule. The Romans seemed to have followed the principle "dolus pro facto accipitur,"[149] at least if the crime attempted was a serious one.[150] A somewhat similar line was adopted by ancient Irish law. The general impression produced by the rules in the commentary to the Book of Aicill is, that the attempt to commit an injurious act was treated as equivalent to its commission, unless the result was very insignificant. Thus, if an attempt was made to slay, or to inflict an injury which would endure for life, and blood was shed, the fine was the same as if the attempt had succeeded; whereas, if the injury did not amount to the shedding of blood, the fine was reduced one-half.[151] And if a man went to kill one person and killed another by mistake, a fine for the intention, in addition to the fine due to the friends of the murdered man, was due to him whose death was intended, even though no injury was actually done to him.[152] In England, at the end of the Middle Ages, the will was taken for the deed in cases of obvious attempts to murder; but this rule appears to have been considered too severe--even in an age when death was the common punishment for felony--and to have fallen into disuse several centuries ago.[153] [Footnote 149: _Digesta_, xlviii. 8. 7.] [Footnote 150: Seeger, _Versuch der Verbrechen nach römischcm Recht_, pp. 1, 2, 49. _Idem_, _Versuch der Verbrechen in der Wissenschaft des Mittelalters_, p. 9. Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 97 _sq._ Apuleius, _Florida_, iv. 20:--"In maleficiis etiam cogitata scelera non perfecta adhuc vindicantur, cruenta mente, pura manu. Ergo sicut ad poenam sufficit meditari punienda."] [Footnote 151: _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, iii. pp. cviii. _sq._ 139.] [Footnote 152: Cherry, _Growth of Criminal Law in Ancient Communities_, p. 32.] [Footnote 153: Stephen, _op. cit._ ii. 222 _sq._ Thomas Smith, _Common-wealth of England_, p. 194 _sq._] {243} The question, which attempts should be punished, and even the elementary question, what constitutes an attempt, have been answered differently by different jurists and legislators.[154] In England all attempts whatever to commit indictable offences, whether felonies or misdemeanours, are punishable by law.[155] The French[156] and German[157] codes, on the other hand, do not punish, except in a few particular cases, attempts to commit _délits_ or _Verbrechen_, that is, what the English jurists would describe as misdemeanours. [Footnote 154: See Cohn, _Zur Lehre vom versuchten und unvollendeten Verbrechen_, i. 6 _sqq._] [Footnote 155: Stephen, _op. cit._ ii. 224.] [Footnote 156: _Code Pénal_ art. 3.] [Footnote 157: _Strafgesetzbuch_, art. 43.] Again, should a person be punished for attempting to commit a crime in a manner in which success is physically impossible, as if he attempts to steal from a pocket which is empty, or puts into a cup pounded sugar which he believes to be arsenic? This question has given rise to a whole literature. Seneca's statement that "he who mixes a sleeping draught, believing it to be poison, is a poisoner,"[158] seems to have had the support of Roman law.[159] In England, some time ago, the man who attempted to pick an empty pocket, was not held liable for an attempt to steal;[160] but this case has been overruled, and it appears now to be the law that an indictment would lie for such an attempt.[161] According to the French[162] and Italian[163] codes, it would not be punished, according to some German law-books, it would;[164] whilst the Strafgesetzbuch contains no special provisions for attempts of a similar character. [Footnote 158: Seneca, _De beneficiis_, v. 13. _Cf._ _Idem_, _Ad Serenum_, 7.] [Footnote 159: Seeger, _Versuch nach römischem Recht_, p. 30.] [Footnote 160: Stephen, _op. cit._ ii. 225.] [Footnote 161: Harris, _Principles of the Criminal Law_, p. 209 n. _c._] [Footnote 162: Stephen, _op. cit._ ii. 225.] [Footnote 163: Alimena, in _Le droit criminel des états européens_, ed. by von Liszt, p. 123.] [Footnote 164: von Feuerbach-Mittermaier, _op. cit._ p. 76. Cohn, _op. cit._ i. 14.] Finally there are different rules as to the stage at which an attempt begins to be criminal, or as to the distinction between attempts and acts of preparation. The Romans, it is supposed, drew no such distinction.[165] The French law regards as permissible acts of preparation many {244} things which in England would be punished as attempts.[166] In England lighting a match with intent to set fire to a haystack has been held to amount to a criminal attempt to burn it, although the defendant blew out the match on seeing that he was watched. But it was said in the same case that, if he had gone no further than to buy a box of matches for the purpose, he would not have been liable, the act being too remote from the offence to be criminal.[167] "Liability will not begin until the offender has done some act which not only manifests his _mens rea_ but also goes some way towards carrying it out."[168] [Footnote 165: Seeger, _Versuch nach römischem Recht_, p. 49.] [Footnote 166: Chauveau and Hélie, _op. cit._ i. 357 _sqq._ Stephen, _op. cit._ ii. 226.] [Footnote 167: Holmes, _Common Law_. p. 67 _sq._] [Footnote 168: Kenny, _op. cit._ p. 79.] If we go a step further, we come to designs unaccompanied by any attempt whatever to realise them. The laws of all countries agree as to the principle that an outward event is requisite for the infliction of punishment. "Cogitationis p[oe]nam nemo patitur."[169] [Footnote 169: _Digesta_, xlviii. 19. 18.] This fact again illustrates the influence which external deeds exercise upon the moral feelings of men. In the average man moral emotions are hardly ever called into existence by calm and penetrating reflection. There are certain phenomena which for some reason or other are apt to arouse in him such emotions, but he does not seek for them. They must force themselves upon his mind, and the more vigorously they do so, the stronger are the emotions they excite. Nothing makes a greater impression on him than facts which are perceptible by the senses. He will admit that an intention, or even a mere wish, to do something wrong is wrong by itself, but an outward event is generally needed for shaking him up. This, I think, is the original reason why persons have not been punished for intentions unaccompanied by external deeds. No doubt, the principle that "the thought of man shall not be tried," is strongly supported by the fact that, as a mediæval writer puts it, "the devil himself knoweth not the thought of man."[170] But considering how ready people {245} have been to presume guilt in cases of unintentional injuries, it seems very incredible that they originally refrained from punishing bare intentions merely on account of insufficient evidence. Indeed, as an exception to the rule, in a few cases when the crime designed is regarded with extreme horror, the very intention may give such a shock to public imagination as to call for punishment. [Footnote 170: Quoted by Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 474.] According to Chinese law, "any person convicted of a design to kill his or her father or mother, grandfather or grandmother, whether by the father's or mother's side; and any woman convicted of a design to kill her husband, husband's father or mother, grandfather or grandmother, shall, whether a blow is, or is not struck in consequence, suffer death by being beheaded."[171] This exceptional law obviously owes its origin to the extreme reverence in which parents and ancestors are held by the Chinese, and to the wife's subjection to her husband. In mediæval laws referring to heresy we have another instance of punishment being inflicted for a mere state of mind without any corresponding act. According to Julius Clarus, this exception to the rule is due to the fact that the crime of heresy itself consists in "sola mentis cogitatione."[172] But the real reason why the law in this case troubled itself about men's thoughts, and even allowed them to be put on their trial for their tacit opinions on bare suspicion, is the detestation in which heresy was held and the extreme attention it attracted. By all this, of course, I do not mean to deny that a judicious and enlightened legislator may find other grounds for taking no notice of mere intentions than their inability to arouse public indignation. I only speak of matters of fact. [Footnote 171: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cclxxxiv. p. 305.] [Footnote 172: Julius Clarus, _Practica Criminalis_, qu. 91 (_Opera omnia_, ii. 625).] Again, as regards acts of preparation and many cases of unsuccessful attempts, it may be said that the agent perhaps would have altered his mind before he came to the point, or that the failure of his attempt was possibly due {246} to a change of intention in the last moment.[173] But there are innumerable cases in which the attempt, with no less certainty than the accomplished crime, displays a criminal intention which is final. And it is particularly instructive to note that, among the very peoples who treat unintentional injuries with the greatest severity, unsuccessful attempts are treated with the greatest leniency. This is well illustrated by a comparison between Teutonic and Roman law; in either case the former chiefly looks at the event, the latter chiefly at the intention of the agent. If there is no punishment for a bare attempt to commit a crime, that is because such an attempt makes no impression on the public. If an attempt is punished more heavily according as it is more advanced, that is because it calls forth greater indignation in proportion as it comes near to the crime intended. And if even the _conatus proximus_ is punished with less severity than the accomplished crime, that is because the indignation it evokes is less. This explanation is corroborated by concessions made by theorisers who have in vain endeavoured to find more rational grounds for existing laws on attempt. They have ultimately found it necessary to resort to phrases such as "the natural sense of justice," or to appeal to the feelings of the multitude.[174] {247} M. Rossi observes, "Nous pensons que le sens commun et la conscience publique ont constamment tenu le même langage. 'Le délit n'a pas été consommé, donc la punition doit être moindre.' Cette idée de proportion matérielle, ce sentiment de justice, grossière j'en conviens, est naturel à l'homme."[175] This is the view taken by the unreflecting moral consciousness. To him whose feelings are tempered by thought, "a man," as Seneca says, "is no less a brigand, because his sword becomes entangled in his victim's clothes, and misses its mark."[176] [Footnote 173: As a rule, the man who voluntarily desists from the attempt to commit a crime would not be punished at all (see Seeger, _Versuch nach römischem Recht_, p. 50; Charles V.'s _Peinliche Gerichts Ordnung_, art. 178; the French _Code Pénal_, art. 2; the Italian _Codice Penale_, art. 61; Finger, _Compendium des österreichischen Rechtes--Strafrecht_, i. 181; and, for various German laws, Zachariä, _op. cit._ ii. 311 _sq._, and Cohn, _op. cit._ i. 12 _sq._), or he would be punished more leniently than if there had been no such desistance (Zachariä, ii. 239, _sqq._ Cohn, i. 12 _sq._). On this subject see also Herzog, _Rücktritt vom Versuch und Thätige Reue_, _passim_.] [Footnote 174: Lelièvre, _De conatu delinquendi_, p. 361 (quoted by Zachariä, _op. cit._ ii. 66, n. 2): "Ceterum libenter fateor, me potius sentire aliquam necessitatem paululum levius in perfectum crimen ac in maleficium consummatum animadvertendi, quam reddere posse claram necessitates rationem." Abegg, _Die verschiedenen Strafrechtstheorieen_, p. 65: "Für uns folgt aber jene nothwendige Beobachtung der concreten Unterschiede, in dem Gebiete der Erscheinung, nach der aus dem Gerechtigkeitsprincipe abgeleiteten Regel, dass Jeder für _seine That_, und was er _verdient_ habe, leiden solle." Zachariä, _op. cit._ ii. 51:--"So macht sich in dem natürlichen Gerechtigkeits-Gefühl des Einzelnen und des ganzen Volkes auch von selbst die Unterscheidung zwischen der Strafe des vollendeten und der des blos versuchten Verbrechens geltend. . . . Es kann freilich seyn, dass der grösste Theil der Menschen für ein solches natürliches Gefühl keine Gründe anzugeben vermag; allein das Strafrecht, welches ja gerade auf die grosse Menge zu wirken hat, kann dessenungeachtet solche unwillkürlich im Volke sich geltend machende Ansichten nicht unberücksichtigt lassen." _Cf._ also Finger, _op. cit._ i. 177.] [Footnote 175: Rossi, _Traité de droit pénal_, ii, 318.] [Footnote 176: Seneca, _Ad Serenum_, 7.] * * * * * In the same way as moral indignation, is moral approval influenced by external events. Though we would not praise a person for some deed of his which we clearly recognise to reflect no merit on his will, the benefits which result from a good act easily induce us to exaggerate the goodness of the agent. On the other hand, it is success alone that confers upon a man the full reward which he deserves; good intentions without corresponding deeds meet with little applause even when the failure is due to mere misfortune. "In our real feeling or sentiment," Hume observes, "we cannot help paying a greater regard to one whose station, joined to virtue, renders him really useful to society, than to one who exerts the social virtues only in good intentions and benevolent affections." * * * * * It is thus only from want of due reflection that moral judgments are influenced by outward deeds. Owing to its very nature, the moral consciousness, when sufficiently influenced by thought, regards the will as the only proper object of moral disapproval or moral praise. That moral qualities are internal, is not an invention of any particular moralist or any particular religion; it has been recognised by thoughtful men in many different countries and different {248} ages. "He that is pure in heart is the truest priest," said Buddha.[177] In the Taouist work, 'Kan ying peen,' it is written:--"If you form in your heart a good intention, although you may not have done any good, the good spirits follow you. If you form in your heart a bad intention, although you may not have done any harm, the evil spirits follow you."[178] According to the Thâi-Shang, mere wishes are sufficient to constitute badness.[179] One of the Pahlavi texts puts the following words into the mouth of the Spirit of Wisdom:--"To be grateful in the world, and to wish happiness for every one; this is greater and better than every good work."[180] God, says the Koran, "will not catch you up for a casual word in your oaths, but He will catch you up for what your hearts have earned."[181] According to the Rabbis, the thought of sin is worse than sin, and an unchaste thought is a "wicked thing."[182] It was an ancient Mexican maxim that "he who looks too curiously on a woman commits adultery with his eyes"[183]--a striking parallel to the passage in St. Matthew v. 28. "Voluntas remuneratur, non opus," says the Canonist. "Licet gladio non occidat, voluntate tamen interficit." "Non ideo minus delinquit, cui sola deest facultas."[184] [Footnote 177: Hopkins, _Religions of India_, p. 319.] [Footnote 178: Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 270.] [Footnote 179: _Thâi-Shang_, 4.] [Footnote 180: _Dînâ-î-Maînôgî Khirad_, lxiii. 3 _sqq._ _Cf._ _ibid._ i. 10, where it is said that the good work which a man does unwittingly is little of a good work, though the sin which a man commits unwittingly amounts to a sin in its origin.] [Footnote 181: _Koran_, ii. 225. _Cf._ Ameer Ali, _Ethics of Islâm_, p. 26.] [Footnote 182: Schechter, in Montefiore, _op. cit._ p. 558. _Cf._ Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 52.] [Footnote 183: Sahagun, _Historia general de las cosas de Nueva España_, vi. 22, vol. ii. 147: "Dice el refran que el _que curiosamente mira á la muger adultéra_ con la vista."] [Footnote 184: Gratian, _Decretum_, ii. 33. 3. 25, 30, 29.] CHAPTER X AGENTS UNDER INTELLECTUAL DISABILITY WE hold an agent responsible not only for his intention, but for any known concomitant of his act, as also for any such unknown concomitant of it as we attribute to want of due attention. But for anything which he could not be aware of he is not responsible. Hence certain classes of agents--animals, children, idiots, madmen--are totally or partially exempted from moral blame and legal punishment. Though animals are undoubtedly capable of acting, we do not regard them as proper objects of moral indignation. The reason for this is not merely the very limited scope of their volitions and their inability to foresee consequences of their acts, since these considerations could only restrict their responsibility within correspondingly narrow limits. Their total irresponsibility rests on the presumption that they are incapable of recognising any act of theirs as right or wrong. If the concomitant of an act is imputable to the agent only in so far as he could know it, it is obvious that no act is wrong which the agent could not know to be wrong. It is a familiar fact that, by discipline, we may teach domesticated animals to live up to a certain standard of behaviour, but this by no means implies that we awake in them moral feelings. When some writers credit dogs and apes with a conscience,[1] we must remember that an {250} observer's inference is not the same as an observed fact.[2] It seems that the so-called conscience in animals is nothing more than an association in the animal's mind between the performance of a given act and the occurrence of certain consequences, together with a fear of those consequences.[3] [Footnote 1: Romanes, _Mental Evolution in Animals_, p. 352. Perty, _Seelenleben der Thiere_, p. 67. Brehm, _From North Pole to Equator_, p. 298.] [Footnote 2: _Cf._ Lloyd Morgan, _Animal Life and Intelligence_, p. 399.] [Footnote 3: _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 405.] The following is one of the most striking instances of what Professor Romanes regards as "conscience" in animals; it refers to a terrier which had never, even in its puppyhood, been known to steal, but on the contrary used to make an excellent guard to protect property from other animals, servants, and so forth, even though these were his best friends. "Nevertheless," says Professor Romanes, "on one occasion he was very hungry, and in the room where I was reading and he was sitting, there was, within easy reach, a savoury mutton chop. I was greatly surprised to see him stealthily remove this chop and take it under a sofa. However, I pretended not to observe what had occurred, and waited to see what would happen next. For fully a quarter of an hour this terrier remained under the sofa without making a sound, but doubtless enduring an agony of contending feelings. Eventually, however, conscience came off victorious, for emerging from his place of concealment and carrying in his mouth the stolen chop, he came across the room and laid the tempting morsel at my feet. The moment he dropped the stolen property he bolted again under the sofa, and from this retreat no coaxing could charm him for several hours afterwards. Moreover, when during that time he was spoken to or patted, he always turned away his head in a ludicrously conscience-stricken manner. Altogether I do not think it would be possible to imagine a more satisfactory exhibition of conscience by an animal than this; for . . . the particular animal in question was never beaten in its life." The author then adds in a note that "mere dread of punishment cannot even be suspected to have been the motive principle of action."[4] It may be so, if by punishment be understood the infliction of physical pain. But it can hardly be doubted that the terrier suspected his master to be displeased with his behaviour, and the dread of displeasure or reproof may certainly have been the sole reason for his bringing back the stolen food. Among {251} "high-life" dogs, as Professor Romanes himself observes, "wounded sensibilities and loss of esteem are capable of producing much keener suffering than is mere physical pain."[5] But fear of the anticipated consequences of an act, even when mixed with shame, is not the same as the moral feeling of remorse. There is no indication that the terrier felt that his act was wrong, in the strict sense of the word. [Footnote 4: Romanes, 'Conscience in Animals,' in _Quarterly Journal of Science_, xiii. 156 _sq._] [Footnote 5: _Idem_, _Animal Intelligence_, p. 439.] However, though most of us, on due reflection, would deny that animals are proper objects of moral censure, there is a general tendency to deal with them as if they were. The dog or the horse that obstinately refuses to submit to its master's will arouses a feeling of resentment which almost claims to be righteous; and the shock given to public feeling by some atrocious deed committed by a beast calls for retribution. As Adam Smith observes, "the dog that bites, the ox that gores, are both of them punished. If they have been the causes of the death of any person, neither the public, nor the relations of the slain, can be satisfied, unless they are put to death in their turn: nor is this merely for the security of the living, but, in some measure, to revenge the injury of the dead."[6] [Footnote 6: Adam Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 137.] If thus our own resentment towards an animal which has caused some injury, when not duly tempered by reason, often comes near actual indignation, it is not surprising to find that, at the lower stages of human civilisation, animals are deliberately treated as responsible agents. The American Indian who eats the vermin which molest him defends his action by arguing that, as the animal has first bitten him, he is only retaliating the injury on the injurer.[7] The custom of blood-revenge is often extended to the animal world. The Kukis, says Mr. Macrae, "are of a most vindictive disposition; blood must always be shed for blood; if a tiger kills {252} any of them, near a _Parah_ [or village], the whole tribe is up in arms, and goes in pursuit of the animal; when if he is killed, the family of the deceased gives a feast of his flesh, in revenge of his having killed their relation. And should the tribe fail to destroy the tiger, in this first general pursuit of him, the family of the deceased must still continue the chase; for until they have killed either this, or some other tiger, and have given a feast of his flesh, they are in disgrace in the _Parah_, and not associated with by the rest of the inhabitants. In like manner, if a tiger destroys one of a hunting party, or of a party of warriors, on an hostile excursion, neither the one nor the other (whatever their success may have been) can return to the _Parah_, without being disgraced, unless they kill the tiger."[8] Of the Sea Dyaks we are told that they will not willingly take part in capturing an alligator, unless the alligator has first destroyed one of themselves; "for why, say they, should they commit an act of aggression, when he and his kindred can so easily repay them? But should the alligator take a human life, revenge becomes a sacred duty of the living relatives, who will trap the man-eater in the spirit of an officer of justice pursuing a criminal. . . . The man-eating alligator is supposed to be pursued by a righteous Nemesis; and whenever one is caught, they have a profound conviction that it must be the guilty one, or his accomplice, for no innocent leviathan could be permitted by the fates to be caught by man."[9] So, also, the Malagasy will never kill a crocodile, except in retaliation for one of their friends or neighbours who has been destroyed by a crocodile. "They believe that the wanton destruction of one of these reptiles will be followed by the loss of human life, in accordance with the principle of _lex talionis_. The inhabitants living in the neighbourhood of the lake Itàsy, to the west of the central province, are accustomed to make a yearly proclamation {253} to the crocodiles, warning them that they shall revenge the death of some of their friends by killing as many _voày_ in return, and warning the well-disposed crocodiles to keep out of the way, as they have no quarrel with them, but only with their evil-minded relatives who have taken human life."[10] [Footnote 7: Harmon, _Journal of Voyages and Travels in the Interior of North America_, p. 327. Southey, _History of Brazil_, i. 223. _Cf._ Bastian, _Der Mensch in der Geschichte_, iii. 25.] [Footnote 8: Macrae, 'Account of the Kookies,' in _Asiatick Researches_, vii. 189.] [Footnote 9: Perham, 'Sea Dyak Religion,' in _Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society_, No. 10, p. 221 _sq._ _Cf._ Frazer, _Golden Bough_, ii. 390.] [Footnote 10: Sibree, _The Great African Island_, p. 269.] Animals are not only exposed to the blood-feud, but are often exposed to regular punishment. This is the case among the Mambettu in Central Africa. Casati mentions the following instance:--"A goat was chased and persecuted by a dog, and in the fight for self-defence the latter received a thrust from the goat's horn. The poor dog, which was the valuable property of a powerful man, died shortly after. This serious matter was much discussed and commented upon, and finally referred to the king for judgment. The poor goat was sentenced to be slaughtered before its victim's corpse, its flesh was served to the Mambettu [that is, people of the superior race], and that of the dog to the Mege [that is, people of the conquered race]."[11] Among the Maori, according to Polack, the crime of impiety is not confined to man only, but even a pig straying over a sacred place incurs the punishment of death.[12] In Muhammedan East Africa, some time ago, a dog was publicly scourged for having entered a mosque.[13] The Bogos kill a bull or cow which causes the death of a man.[14] According to the native code of Malacca, if a buffalo or a head of cattle "be tied in the forest, in a place where people are not in the habit of passing, and there gore anybody to death, it shall be put to death"; but the owner of the animal shall not be held liable.[15] According to Hebrew law, "if an ox gore a man or a woman, that they die: then the ox shall be surely stoned, and his flesh shall not be eaten"; and, in the case of sexual intercourse {254} between a man, or woman, and a beast, not only the human offender, but the beast, is to be put to death.[16] It is prescribed in the Vendîdâd that, if a mad dog which bites without barking, smite a sheep or wound a man, "the dog shall pay for the wound of the wounded as for wilful murder."[17] Plato had undoubtedly borrowed from Attic custom or law the idea which underlies the following regulation in his 'Laws':--"If a beast of burden or other animal cause the death of any one, except in the case of anything of that kind happening to a competitor in the public contests, the kinsman of the deceased shall prosecute the slayer for murder, and the wardens of the country, such, and so many as the kinsman appoint, shall try the cause, and let the beast when condemned be slain by them, and let them cast it beyond the borders."[18] In various European countries animals have been judicially sentenced to death, and publicly executed, in retribution for injuries inflicted by them. Advocates were assigned to defend the accused animals, and the whole proceedings, trial, sentence, and execution, were conducted with all the strictest formalities of justice.[19] These proceedings seem to have been particularly common from the end of the thirteenth till the seventeenth century; the last case in France occurred as late as 1845.[20] Not only domestic animals, but even wild ones, were thus put on trial.[21] "In 1565 the Arlesians asked for the expulsion of the grasshoppers. The case came before the Tribunal de l'Officialité, and Maître Marin was assigned to the insects as counsel. He defended his clients with much zeal. Since the accused had been created, he argued that they were justified in eating what was necessary to them. The opposite counsel cited the serpent in the Garden of Eden, and sundry other animals {255} mentioned in Scripture, as having incurred severe penalties. The grasshoppers got the worst of it, and were ordered to quit the territory, with a threat of anathematisation from the altar, to be repeated till the last of them had obeyed the sentence of the honourable court."[22] From an earlier period we have records of maledictions and excommunications of vermin and obnoxious insects. In 1120, a bishop of Laon is reported to have excommunicated the caterpillars which were ravaging his diocese, with the same formula as that employed the previous year by the Council of Rheims in cursing the priests who persisted in marrying in spite of the canons.[23] Such maledictions and excommunications, however, were probably regarded rather as magical means of expulsion than as punishments.[24] Not long ago, when swarms of locusts ravaged the gardens of Tangier, the Shereef of Wazzan expelled the injurious animals by spitting into the mouth of one of them. [Footnote 11: Casati, _Ten Years in Equatoria_, i. 176.] [Footnote 12: Polack, _Manners and Customs of the New Zealanders_, i. 240.] [Footnote 13: von Amira, _Thierstrafen und Thierprocesse_, p. 30.] [Footnote 14: Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 83.] [Footnote 15: Newbold, _British Settlements in the Straits of Malacca_, ii. 257.] [Footnote 16: _Exodus_, xxi. 28 _sq._ _Leviticus_, xx. 15 _sq._] [Footnote 17: _ Vendîdâd_, xiii. 31. _Cf._ _ibid._ xiii. 32 _sqq._; _Yasts_, xxiv. 44.] [Footnote 18: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 873.] [Footnote 19: Chambers, _Book of Days_, i. 127. Pertile, 'Gli animali in giudizio,' in _Atti del R. Instituto Veneto_, ser. vi. vol. iv. 139. ] [Footnote 20: von Amira, _Thierstrafen_, pp. 2, 15, 16, 28 _sq._ In England such proceedings seem to have hardly occurred at all (_ibid._ p. 15), but, as we shall see, an animal which caused the death of a man was forfeited as deodand.] [Footnote 21: See Chambers, _op. cit._ i. 127 _sq._] [Footnote 22: Marlinengo-Cesaresco, _Essays in the Study of Folk-Songs_, p. 183 _sq._] [Footnote 23: Desmaze, _Les pénalités anciennes_, p. 31 _sq._] [Footnote 24: This is the opinion of von Amira, who, however--as it seems to me, without sufficient evidence--suggests that the maledictions did not refer to ordinary animals, but to human souls or devils in disguise (_Thierstrafen_, p. 16 _sqq._).] It has been suggested that the mediæval practice of punishing animals after human fashion was derived from the Mosaic law.[25] But this hypothesis does not account for the comparatively late appearance of the practice, nor for the fact that, in some cases, other punishments short of death were inflicted upon offending beasts.[26] It seems much more probable that the procedure in question developed out of an ancient European custom, to which it stood in the relationship of punishment to revenge.[27] According to the customs or laws of various so-called Aryan peoples--Greeks,[28] Romans,[29] Teutons,[30] Celts,[31] Slavs,[32]--an {256} animal which did some serious damage, especially if it caused the death of a man, was to be given up to the injured party, or his family, obviously in order that it might be retaliated upon.[33] According to the Welsh Laws, "that is the only case in which the murderer is to be given up for his deed."[34] The fact that afterwards, in the later Middle Ages, this form of reprisal was in certain instances transformed into regular punishment, only implies that the principle according to which punishment succeeded vengeance in the case of human crimes was, by way of analogy, extended to injuries committed by animals. [Footnote 25: _Ibid._ pp. 4, 47 _sqq._] [Footnote 26: Pertile, _loc. cit._ p. 148.] [Footnote 27: _Cf._ Brunner, _Forschungen zur Geschichte des deutschen und französischen Rechtes_, p. 517 _sqq._] [Footnote 28: Plutarch, _Vita Solonis_, 24. Xenophon, _Historiæ Græcæ_, ii. 4. 41.] [Footnote 29: _Institutiones_, iv. 9. _Digesta_, ix. 1.] [Footnote 30: _Lex Salica_ (cod. i.), 36. _Lex Ripuariorum_, 46. Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 664 _sqq._ Brunner, _Forschungen_, p. 513 _sqq._] [Footnote 31: _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, i. 161; iv. 177, 179, 181. _Welsh Laws_, iv. i. 17 (_Ancient Laws and Institutes of Wales_, p. 391).] [Footnote 32: Macieiowski, _Slavische Rechtsgeschichte_, iv. 333.] [Footnote 33: See _Lex Wisigothorum_, viii. 4. 20; _Schwabenspiegel_, Landrechtbuch, 204; Dirksen, _Civilistische Abhandlungen_, i. 104; von Jhering, _Geist des römischen Rechts_, i. 123; Hepp, _Die Zurechnung auf dem Gebiete des Civilrechts_, p. 103; Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 664; Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 556; _Idem_, _Forschungen_, p. 513.] [Footnote 34: _Welsh Laws_, iv. 1. 17 (_Ancient Laws and Institutes of Wales_, p. 391).] There has been considerable diversity of opinion concerning the purpose of inflicting punishments upon animals. Some writers suggest that it was possibly done with a view to deterring other animals from committing similar injuries.[35] According to others, the animal was executed in order that the hateful act should be forgotten; Gratian, referring to St. Augustine,[36] says, "Non propter culpam, sed propter memoriam facti pecus occiditur, ad quod mulier accesserit."[37] A theory which has gained much adherence explains the punishment as a symbolic act, performed for the purpose of inspiring horror of the crime into the minds of men.[38] M. Thonissen maintains that, at Athens, "on frappait l'animal auteur d'un homicide, afin que le peuple, en voyant périr un être privé de raison, conçut une grande horreur pour l'effusion du sang humain."[39] It has also been supposed that the animal was punished with intention to intimidate those {257} who were responsible for its acts,[40] or that it was killed because it was dangerous.[41] But the true solution of the problem seems simple enough. The animal had to suffer on account of the indignation it aroused. It was regarded as responsible for its deed.[42] In early records the punishment is frequently spoken of as an act of "justice";[43] and the protests of Beaumanoir and others against this opinion[44] only show that it was held in good earnest, if not by all, at least by many. From certain details we can also see how closely the responsibility ascribed to animals resembled the responsibility of men. In some of the texts of the Salic law the animal is spoken of as "auctor criminis."[45] In an ancient Irish law-tract it is said that, when a bee has blinded a person's eye, the whole hive "shall pay the fine," and "the many become accountable for the crime of one, although they all have not attacked."[46] Youth was a ground for acquittal, as appears from a case which occurred at Lavegny in 1457, when a sow and her six young ones were tried on a charge of their having murdered and partly eaten a child: whilst the sow, being found guilty, was condemned to death, the young pigs were acquitted on account of their youth and the bad example of their mother.[47] In Burgundy, a distinction was made between a mischievous dog that entered a room through an open door and one that committed a burglary; the latter was a _larron_, and was to be punished as such.[48] The repetition of a crime aggravated the punishment;[49] {258} and the animal "principal" was punished more severely than the "accessories.[50] [Footnote 35: Leibniz, _Essais de Theodicée_, p. 182 _sq._ Lessona, quoted by d'Addosio, _Bestie delinquenti_, p. 145.] [Footnote 36: St. Augustine, _Quæstiones in Leviticum_, 74 (_ad Lev._ xx. 16): "Nam pecora inde credendum est jussa interfici, quia tali flagitio contaminata, indignam refricant facti memoriam" (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, xxxiv. 709).] [Footnote 37: Gratian, _Decretum_, ii. 15. 1. 4. _Cf._ _Mishna_, fol. 54, quoted by Rabbinowicz, _Législation criminelle du Talmud_, p. 116.] [Footnote 38: Ayrault, _Des procès faicts au cadaver, aux cendres, à la mémoire, aux bestes brutes_, fol. 24. Ortolan, _Éléments du droit pénal_, p. 188. Tissot, _Le droit pénal_, i. 19 _sq._] [Footnote 39: Thonissen, _Le droit pénal de la république Athénienne_, p. 414.] [Footnote 40: Du Boys, quoted by d'Addosio, _op. cit._ p. 139.] [Footnote 41: Lessona, quoted _ibid._ p. 145.] [Footnote 42: _Cf._ Post, _Die Grundlagen des Rechts_, p. 359; Friedrichs, 'Mensch und Person,' in _Das Ausland_, 1891, pp. 300, 315; and, especially, d'Addosio, _op. cit._ p. 146 _sqq._: "Nel medioevo si punì l'animale perchè lo si ritenne in certo modo _conscio_ delle sue azioni, in certo modo _libero_, in certo modo _responsabile_."] [Footnote 43: von Amira. _op. cit._ p. 9.] [Footnote 44: Beaumanoir, _Les coutumes du Beauvoisis_, lxix. 6, vol. ii. 485 _sq._ Chambers, _op. cit._ i. 127. Lichtenberg, _Vermischte Schriften_, iv. 481.] [Footnote 45: _Lex Salica_, edited by Hessels, coll. 209-212, 215.] [Footnote 46: _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, iv. 179.] [Footnote 47: Chambers, _op. cit._ i. 128.] [Footnote 48: _Ancien Coutumier de Bourgogne_, 23 (_Revue historique de droit français et étranger_, iii. 549): "Il deust hauoir faire justice del larron."] [Footnote 49: Pertile, _loc. cit._ p. 148: "La _Carta de Logu_ d'Eleonora giudicessa d'Arborea (1395) prescrive: che venendo trovato un asino in danno sui fondi altrui, per la prima volta gli si tagli un orecchio; la seconda, l'altro; e la terza, si confischi la bestia consegnandola alla corte principesca." _Cf._ _Vendîdâd_, xiii. 32 _sqq._] [Footnote 50: d'Addosio, _op. cit._ p. 16.] Considering the feelings to which even the cultured mind is susceptible with reference to a mischievous beast, it is not difficult to understand the attitude of the ignorant. The savage, not only momentarily, while in a rage, but permanently and in cold blood, obliterates the boundaries between man and beast. He regards all animals as practically on a footing of equality with man. He believes that they are endowed with feelings and intelligence like men, that they are united into families and tribes like men, that they have various languages like human tribes, that they possess souls which survive the death of the bodies just as is the case with human souls. He tells of animals that have been the ancestors of men, of men that have become animals, of marriages that take place between men and beasts. He also believes that he who slays an animal will be exposed to the vengeance either of its disembodied spirit, or of all the other animals of the same species which, quite after human fashion, are bound to resent the injury done to one of their number.[51] Is it not natural, then, that the savage should give like for like? If it is the duty of animals to take vengeance upon men, is it not equally the duty of men to take vengeance upon animals? [Footnote 51: Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, i. 467 _sqq._ Frazer, _Golden Bough_, ii. 389 _sqq._ Liebrecht, _Zur Volkskunde_, p. 17. Achelis, _Moderne Völkerkunde_, p. 373 _sqq._ _Idem_, 'Animal Worship,' in _Open Court_, xi. 705 _sq._ Waitz, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, ii. 180 (Negroes). von den Steinen, _Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens_, p. 351. Im Thurn, _Among the Indians of Guiana_, p. 350 _sqq._ Dorman, _Origin of Primitive Superstitions_, pp. 223, 253. Lumholtz, _Unknown Mexico_, i. 331 (Tarahumares). Mooney, 'Myths of the Cherokee,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xix. pp. 250, 261 _sq._ Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' _ibid._ xviii. 423. Hose and McDougall, 'Relations between Men and Animals in Sarawak,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 173 _sqq._, especially p. 205 _sq._] Nor are these beliefs restricted to savages. Muhammedans maintain, not only that animals will share with men the general resurrection, but that they will be judged according to their works. Their tradition says that God "will raise up animals at the last day to receive {259} reward and to show His perfection and His justice. Then the hornless goat will be revenged on the horned one."[52] We can hardly wonder that the Zoroastrian law inflicted punishments on dogs which hurt men or animals, when we read in the Vendîdâd that a dog has the characters of eight sorts of people.[53] The fable and the _Märchen_ for a long time related in good earnest their stories of animals that behaved exactly like men.[54] Even to this day, in certain districts of Europe, as soon as a peasant is dead, it is customary for his heir to announce the change of ownership to every beast in the stall, and to the bees also;[55] and in some parts of Poland, when the corpse of the rustic proprietor is being carried out, all his cattle are let loose, that they may take leave of their old master.[56] In the Middle Ages animals were sometimes accepted as witnesses; a man who was accused of having committed a murder in his house appeared before the tribunal with his cat, his dog, and his cock, swore in their presence that he was innocent, and was acquitted.[57] It was not only the common people that ascribed intelligence to beasts. According to Porphyry, all the philosophers who have endeavoured to discover the truth concerning animals have acknowledged that they to a certain extent participate of reason;[58] and the same idea is expressed by Christian writers of a much later date. In the sixteenth century, Benoît wrote that animals often speak.[59] In the middle of the following century, Hieronymus Rorarius published a book entitled 'Quod animalia bruta ratione utantur melius homine.' And about the same time Johann Crell, in his 'Ethica Christiana,' expressed the opinion that animals at all events possess faculties analogous to reason and free-will, that they have something similar to virtues and vices, that they {260} deserve something like rewards and punishments, and are consequently punished by God and man.[60] This, as it seems to me, is the correct explanation of the mediæval practice of punishing animals, even though, in some cases, as M. Ménabréa observes, the obnoxious animal was regarded as an embodiment of some evil spirit and was punished as such.[61] The beast or insect was retaliated upon for the simple reason that it was regarded as a rational being. [Footnote 52: _Koran_, vi. 38. Sell, _Faith of Islám_, p. 223.] [Footnote 53: _Vendîdâd_, xiii. 44 _sqq._] [Footnote 54: See Grimm, _Reinhart Fuchs_, p. i. _sqq._] [Footnote 55: Ralston, _Songs of the Russian People_, p. 315. Wuttke, _Der deutsche Volksaberglaube der Gegenwart_, p. 428.] [Footnote 56: Ralston, _op. cit._ p. 318.] [Footnote 57: Michelet, _Origines du droit français_, pp. 76, 279 _sq._ Chambers, _op. cit._ i. 129.] [Footnote 58: Porphyry, _De abstinentia ab esu animalium_, iii. 6.] [Footnote 59: Benoît, quoted by d'Addosio, _op. cit._ p. 214.] [Footnote 60: Crell, _Ethica Christiana_, ii. 1, p. 65 _sq._:--"Hinc aliquid etiam virtuti et vitio simile, seu recte et prave factum: quorum illud est, cum bruta naturæ suæ ductum sequuntur, hoc cum a naturali via exorbitant. Unde tandem etiam aliquid **præmio aut p[oe]næ, et huic quidem maxime simile. Unde bestias etiam a Deo punitas, aut p[oe]nas certas lege illis constitutas, cernimus."] [Footnote 61: Ménabréa, _De l'origine de la forme et de l'esprit des jugements rendus au moyen-age contre les animaux_, p. 35.] At the earlier stages of civilisation even inanimate things are treated as if they were responsible agents. The Kukis take revenge not only on a murderous tiger, but on a murderous tree. "If a man should happen to be killed, by an accidental fall from a tree, all his relations assemble, and cut it down; and however large it may be, they reduce it to chips, which they scatter in the winds, for having, as they say, been the cause of the death of their brother."[62] Among the aborigines of Western Victoria, "when the spear or weapon of an enemy has killed a friend, it is always burnt by the relatives of the deceased; but those captured in battle are kept, and used by the conquerors."[63] The North American Redskins, when struck with an arrow in battle, "will tear it from the wound, break and bite it with their teeth, and dash it on the ground."[64] The British Guiana Indian, when hurt either by falling on a rock, or by the rock falling on him, "attributes the blame, by a line of argument still not uncommon in more civilised life, to the rock."[65] The gods of the Vedic age cursed the trees which had injured them.[66] Xerxes commanded {261} that the Hellespont should be stricken with three hundred lashes,[67] and Cyrus "wreaked his vengeance" on the river Gyndes by dispersing it through three hundred and sixty channels.[68] Pausanias relates that when Theagenes had died, one of his enemies went up to his statue every night, and whipped the brass. At last, however, "the statue checked his insolence by falling on him; but the sons of the deceased prosecuted the statue for murder. The Thasians sank the statue in the sea, herein following the view taken by Draco, who, in the laws touching homicide which he drew up for the Athenians, enacted that even lifeless things should be banished if they fell on anybody and killed him."[69] As Dr. Frazer remarks, the punishment of inanimate objects for having accidentally been the cause of death was probably much older than Draco.[70] At Athens there was a special tribunal for the purpose.[71] Demosthenes states that, if a stone or a piece of wood or iron or any such thing fell and struck a man, and the person who threw the thing was not known, but the people knew, and were in possession of, the object which killed the man, that object was brought to trial at the court of the Prytaneum.[72] Plato lays down the following rule in his 'Laws':--"If any lifeless thing deprive a man of life, except in the case of a thunderbolt or other fatal dart sent from the gods,--whether a man is killed by lifeless objects falling upon him, or by his falling upon them, the nearest of kin shall appoint the nearest neighbour to be a judge, and thereby acquit himself and the whole family of guilt. And he shall cast forth the guilty thing beyond the border."[73] Teutonic law, which still recognised the principle of private revenge, treated the inanimate murderer with less ceremony.[74] According to the Laws of Alfred, when men were at work together in {262} a forest, and by misadventure one let a tree fall on another, which killed him, the tree belonged to the dead man's kinsfolk if they took it away within thirty days.[75] Later on, in England, a thing by which death was caused was "forfeited to God, that is to the King, God's Lieutenant on earth, to be distributed in works of charity for the appeasing of God's wrath."[76] This law remained in force till 1846.[77] [Footnote 62: Macrae, in _Asiatick Researches_, vii. 189 _sq._] [Footnote 63: Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 53.] [Footnote 64: Robertson, _History of America_, i. 351 _sq._] [Footnote 65: Im Thurn, _op. cit._ p. 354.] [Footnote 66: Oldenberg, _Religion des Veda_, p. 518.] [Footnote 67: Herodotus, vii. 35.] [Footnote 68: _Ibid._ i. 190.] [Footnote 69: Pausanias, vi. 11. 6. _Cf._ _ibid._ v. 27. 10.] [Footnote 70: Frazer, _Pausanias_, ii. 371.] [Footnote 71: Aristotle, _De republica Atheniensium_, 57. Pausanias, i. 28. 10.] [Footnote 72: Demosthenes, _Contra Aristocratem_, 76, p. 645.] [Footnote 73: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 873 _sq._] [Footnote 74: See Trummer, _Vorträge über Tortur, &c._ i. 376 _sq._ Brunner, _Forschungen_, p. 521 _sqq._] [Footnote 75: _Laws of Alfred_, ii. 13.] [Footnote 76: Coke. _Third Part of the Institutes of the Laws of England_, p. 57.] [Footnote 77: Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, iii. 78. Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the Time of Edward I._ ii. 473.] In some of these cases superstitious dread may have been a motive for destroying or banishing the instrument of death. There are facts which prove that such an object is looked upon as a source of danger. According to the Ripuarian law, people are forbidden to make use of a thing which has been "auctor interfectionis";[78] and in Norway, in quite modern times, sickles, axes, and other objects with which men have been killed, have been seen lying about abandoned and unused.[79] Again, among the aborigines of West Australia, if a person has been killed by a thrust of the native wooden spear, _ghici_, his country-men think that his soul remains in the point of the weapon which caused his death, and they burn it after his burial, so that the soul may depart.[80] But it is also obvious that an inanimate thing which is the cause of a hurt is apt to evoke a genuine feeling of resentment. We kick the chair over which we stumble, we curse the stone which hurts us; Dr Nansen says that, when he was crossing Greenland, it would have caused him "quite real satisfaction" to destroy a sledge which was **"heavy to draw."[81] When we thus behave as if the offending object were capable of feeling our resentment, we for a moment vaguely believe that it is alive.[82] But our anger very soon passes {263} away when we realise the true nature of its object. The case is different with men at earlier stages of civilisation. They do not suppose that things which hurt them are senseless; on the contrary, they personify such things, not only hastily and momentarily, but deliberately and permanently; hence their resentment lasts. The Guiana Indian, says Sir E. F. Im Thurn, "attributes any calamity which may happen to him to the intention of the immediate instrument of its infliction, and he not unnaturally sees in the action of this instrument evidence of its possession of a spirit."[83] Trees, especially, are very commonly supposed to possess souls similar to those of men, and are treated accordingly.[84] Pausanias writes that "lifeless things are said to have inflicted of their own accord a righteous punishment on men"; and as the best and most famous instance of this he mentions the sword of Cambyses.[85] In England the inanimate murderer was to be given up to the kinsmen of the slain surely not as a compensation for the loss they had suffered, but as an object upon which their vengeance was to be wreaked.[86] It was called _la bane_, that is, "the slayer"; Bracton also calls it the "malefactor."[87] It did not matter that its owner was recognised as innocent; the punishment was not intended for him.[88] But in some well-defined cases the "slayer" was free from guilt. A ship or other vessel from which a person was drowned by misfortune was not forfeited as deodand in case the accident happened in salt water--as Coke indicates, on account of the great dangers to which the vessel is exposed "upon the raging waves in respect of the wind and tempest."[89] Moreover, if a boy under fourteen fell from a cart, or from a horse, it was {264} no deodand, "because he was not of discretion to look to himself," and so the cart, or horse, could not be regarded as blamable. But if a cart ran over a boy, or a tree fell upon him, or a bull gored him, it was deodand, because, apparently, it went out of its way to kill him.[90] The fact of motion was one of considerable importance in the case of animals and inanimate things, as it was in the case of men. Thus Bracton would distinguish between the horse which throws a man and the horse off which a man tumbles, between the tree that falls and the tree against which a man is thrown; and, as a general rule, a thing was not a deodand unless it could be said "movere ad mortem."[91] If anybody was drowned by falling from a ship under sail, not only the ship itself but the things moving in it were deemed the cause of his death; whereas the merchandise lying at the bottom of the vessel was not presumed to be guilty, and consequently was not forfeited.[92] But if any particular merchandise fell upon a person and caused his death, that merchandise became a deodand, and not the ship.[93] As Mr. Holmes observes, a ship is the most persistent example of motion giving personality to a thing. "She" is still personified not only in common parlance, but in courts of justice. In maritime cases of quite recent date judges of great repute have pronounced the proceeding to be, not against the owner, but "against the vessel for an offence committed by the vessel."[94] [Footnote 78: _Lex Ripuariorum_, lxx. 1.] [Footnote 79: Liebrccht, _Zur Volkskund_, p. 313.] [Footnote 80: Salvado, _Mémoires historiques sur l'Australie_, p. 260 _sq._] [Footnote 81: Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 213 _sq._] [Footnote 82: _Cf._ Dugald Stewart, _Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers of Man_, i. 125; Hall, 'Study of Anger,' in _American Journal of Psychology_, x. 506 _sq._] [Footnote 83: Im Thurn, _op. cit._ p. 354.] [Footnote 84: See Frazer, _Golden Bough_, i. 169 _sqq._] [Footnote 85: Pausanias, i. 28. 11.] [Footnote 86: Pollock and Maitland, ii. 474.] [Footnote 87: Bracton, _De Legibus et Consuetudinibus Angliæ_, fol. 116, vol. ii. 236 _sq._] [Footnote 88: Holmes, _Common Law_, p. 25.] [Footnote 89: Bracton, _op. cit._ fol. 122, vol. ii. 286 _sq._ Coke, _op. cit._ p. 58. Sir James Stephen supposes (_op. cit._ iii. 78) that "deodands were not in use at sea, because the local customs of England did not extend to the high seas." But Coke expressly says (p. 58) that there can be no deodand of the ship even "in _aqua salsa_, being any arm of the sea, though it be in the body of the County."] [Footnote 90: Coke, _op. cit._ p. 57. Hale, _History of the Pleas of the Crown_, i. 422. Stephen, _op. cit._ iii. 78.] [Footnote 91: Bracton, _op. cit._ fol. 136 b, vol. ii, 400 _sq._ Hale, _op. cit._ i. 420 _sqq._ Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 474, n. 4. Stephen, _op. cit._ iii. 77. Holmes, _op. cit._ p. 25 _sq._] [Footnote 92: Britton, i. 2. 14, vol. i. 16.] [Footnote 93: Hale, _op. cit._ i. 422.] [Footnote 94: Holmes, _op. cit._ p. 29.] * * * * * Like the lower animals, human beings in their earliest childhood are incapable of forming notions of right and wrong, hence they are not responsible for any act of theirs. Responsibility commences with the dawn of a moral consciousness, and increases along with the evolution of the intellect. Only by slow degrees the capacity of recognising {265} act as right or wrong develops in the child. It soon learns that certain acts are forbidden, but to know that an act is forbidden is not the same as to recognise it as wrong. Nor does the knowledge of a moral rule involve the ability to apply that rule in particular cases. Nor can the youthful intellect be expected to possess the same degree of foresight as the intellect of a grown-up man. Hence the total or partial irresponsibility of childhood and early youth. This irresponsibility is admitted by the laws of civilised nations. In England,[95] Scotland,[96] and the United States,[97] children under seven are absolutely exempt from punishment. In other modern countries criminal responsibility does not commence until the age of nine,[98] ten,[99] twelve,[100] or fourteen.[101] In some it is to be decided in each case whether a child is punishable or not.[102] Thus the French Code Pénal provides that a person under eighteen years of age shall not be punished if it be decided that he has acted without discernment (_sans discernement_) whereas, if he has acted with discernment (_avec discernement_), his punishment is to be mitigated according to a fixed scale.[103] Most laws set down an intermediate period between that of complete irresponsibility and that of complete responsibility. According to English law there is a presumption that children from seven to fourteen are not possessed of the degree of knowledge essential to criminality, though this presumption may be rebutted by proof to the contrary;[104] and, according to the German Strafgesetzbuch, a person from twelve to eighteen may be acquitted if, when he committed the offence, he did {266} not possess the intelligence requisite to know that it was criminal.[105] Other laws, again, regard a certain age _eo ipso_ as a ground of extenuation, its upper limit being fixed sometimes at sixteen,[106] sometimes at eighteen,[107] sometimes at twenty,[108] sometimes at twenty-one.[109] [Footnote 95: Stephen, _op. cit._ ii. 97 _sq._] [Footnote 96: Erskine-Rankine, _Principles of the Law of Scotland_, p. 546.] [Footnote 97: Bishop, _Commentaries on the Criminal Law_, § 368, vol. i. 209.] [Footnote 98: Italian _Codice Penale_, art. 53. Spanish _Código Penal reformado_, art. 8, § 2.] [Footnote 99: Austrian (Finger, _op. cit._ i. 110), Dutch (van Hamel, in _Législation pénale comparée_, edited by von Liszt, p. 444), Portuguese (Tavares de Medeiros, _ibid._ p. 199), Russian (Foinitzki, _ibid._ p. 529) law.] [Footnote 100: German _Strafgesetzbuch_, art. 55.] [Footnote 101: Swedish (Uppström, in _Législation pénale comparée_, p. 483), Finnish (Forsman, _ibid._ p. 565) law.] [Footnote 102: French, Belgian, Ottoman law (Rivière, _ibid._ p. 7).] [Footnote 103: _Code Pénal_, art. 66 _sqq._] [Footnote 104: Stephen, _op. cit._ ii. 98. Kenny, _Outlines of Criminal Law_, p. 50.] [Footnote 105: _Strafgesetzbuch_, art. 56.] [Footnote 106: Dutch law (van Hamel, _loc. cit._ p. 444).] [Footnote 107: Spanish (_Código Penal reformado_, art. 9, § 2), Swedish (Uppström, _loc. cit._ p. 484), Finnish (Forsman, _loc. cit._ p. 566) law.] [Footnote 108: Austrian law (Finger, _op. cit._ i. 112).] [Footnote 109: Italian (_Codice Penale_, art. 56), Russian (Foinitzki, _loc. cit._ p. 529), Portuguese (Tavares de Medeiros, _loc. cit._ p. 199), Brazilian (_Codigo Penal dos Estados Unidos do Brazil_, art. 42, § 11) law. According to the _Ottoman Penal Code_, art. 40, "a guilty person who has not arrived at the age of puberty may not be punished with the punishment enacted against the offence of which he has been found guilty."] Roman law, as it seems, made out a _præsumptio juris_ of general incapacity to commit a crime under puberty, rebuttable by evidence of capacity, at any rate in the age called "next to puberty," the limits of which are not clearly settled.[110] In the Irish Book of Aicill it is said that "the man who incites a fool is he who pays for his crime"; and to this the Commentary adds that a man is a fool till the end of seven years, and a fool of half sense till the end of fourteen[111]--a provision similar to that of Canon Law.[112] According to Muhammedan law, the rule of talion is applicable only to persons of age.[113] In China criminal responsibility is affected not only by youth, but by old age as well. "Offenders whose age is not more than seven nor less than ninety years, shall not suffer punishment in any case, except in that of treason or rebellion." "Any offender whose age is not more than ten nor less than eighty years, . . . shall, when the crime is capital, but not {267} amounting to treason, be recommended to the particular consideration and decision of His Imperial Majesty." And "any offender whose age is not more than fifteen, nor less than seventy years . . . shall be allowed to redeem himself from any punishment less than capital, by the payment of the established fine, except in the case of persons condemned to banishment as accessories to the crimes of treason, rebellion, murder of three or more persons in one family, or homicide by magic or poisoning, upon all of which offenders the laws shall be strictly executed."[114] [Footnote 110: Clark, _Analysis of Criminal Liability_, p. 70. von Jhering, _Das Schuldmoment im römischen Privatrecht_, p. 42 _sqq._ Mommsen _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 75 _sq._ In the _Institutiones_ (i. 22) puberty is fixed at the completion of the fourteenth year for males, and of the twelfth for females. According to the Law of the Twelve Tables, children were punished for theft, though less severely than adults (Gellius, _Noctes Atticæ_, xi. 18. 8. Pliny, _Historia naturalis_, xviii. 3).] [Footnote 111: _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, iii. 157.] [Footnote 112: Katz, _Grundriss des kanonischen Strafrechts_, p. 8.] [Footnote 113: Sachau, _Muhammedanisches Recht_, p. 762. Jaffur Shurreef says (_Qanoon-e-Islam_, p. 36) that, among the Muhammedans of India, previous to the period of puberty all the good and evil deeds of boys and girls are laid to the charge of their parents.] [Footnote 114: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. xxii. _sq._] According to early custom, children who have committed an injury are sometimes,[115] but not always,[116] subject to the rule of retaliation. Even in Homeric Greece, manslaughter committed in childhood seems to have been visited with banishment for life.[117] In other cases parents are responsible for the deeds of their children.[118] Among the West African Fjort, for instance, children are not themselves liable for their actions, but the injured party can claim compensation from the parents if he likes to do so.[119] Among the Teutons, "like the master for the slave, the father answered for and made claims on behalf of the child. The ceremony of investing him with arms as a _wehrhaft_, or weapon-bearing member of the community, was the usual period for the assumption of rights and liabilities; and this customarily (not always) took place at the age of twelve."[120] According to ancient Swedish law, an injury was treated in the same way as if it had been accidental, in case the offender was under the age of fifteen;[121] according to the Icelandic Grágás, in case he was {268} under sixteen.[122] However, as we have seen, accidental injuries had to be paid for. Where offences are dealt with according to the principle of compensation, it is impossible to decide how far parents' liability for their children involves a recognition of the moral irresponsibility of the child, or is simply due to the fact that children, having no property, are themselves unable to compensate. That the latter point of view was largely adopted by early custom and law appears from the fact that, when compensation was succeeded by punishment, the period of irresponsibility was reduced. In England the age-limit of twelve years, which prevailed in Anglo-Norman days, was afterwards disregarded in criminal cases.[123] We read in the Northumberland Assize Roll, A.D. 1279, "Reginald . . . aged four, by misadventure slew Robert . . . aged two; the justice granted that he might have his life and members because of his tender age."[124] A little later we hear that a child under the age of seven shall not suffer judgment in a case of homicide.[125] In 1457, an infant of four was held liable in trespass, though the language of the court shows a disposition to exempt the infant.[126] From the eighteenth century instances are recorded of a girl of thirteen who was burnt for killing her mistress, and of a boy of eight who was hanged for arson.[127] In 1748, a boy of ten, being convicted for the murder of a girl of five, was sentenced to death, and all the judges to whom this case was reported agreed that, "in justice to the publick," the law ought to take its course. The execution, however, was respited, and the boy at last had the benefit of His Majesty's pardon.[128] It appears from these facts, and from others of a similar character referring to continental countries,[129] that there has been a tendency to raise the age {269} at which full legal responsibility commences. And we have reason to hope that legislation has not yet said its last word on the subject. [Footnote 115: Senfft, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 449 (Marshall Islanders). Miklosich, 'Blutrache bei den Slaven,' in _Denkschriften d. kaiserl. Akadamie d. Wissensch. Philos.-hist. Classe_, Vienna, xxxvi. 131 (Turks of Daghestan). See also _supra_, p. 217 _sq._] [Footnote 116: Lang, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 257 (Washambala).] [Footnote 117: _Iliad_, xxiii. 85 _sqq._ _Cf._ Müller, _Dissertations on the Eumenides_, p. 95.] [Footnote 118: Nicole, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_ p. 132 (Diakité-Sarrakolese). Marx, _ibid._ p. 357 (Amahlubi).] [Footnote 119: Dennett, in _Jour. African Society_, i. 276.] [Footnote 120: Wigmore, 'Responsibility for Tortious Acts,' in _Harvard Law Review_, vii. 447.] [Footnote 121: Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 642 _sq._ Nordström, _Bidrag till den svenska samhälls-författningens historia_, ii. 73. _Cf._ von Amira, _Nordgermanisches Obligationenrecht_, i. 375 _sq._] [Footnote 122: _Grágás_, Vigsloþi, 32, vol. ii. 63.] [Footnote 123: Wigmore, _loc. cit._ p. 447.] [Footnote 124: _Three Early Assize Rolls for the County of Northumberland_, p. 323.] [Footnote 125: Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 84.] [Footnote 126: Wigmore, _loc. cit._ p. 447 _sq._ n. 7.] [Footnote 127: Wilson, _History of Modern English Law_, p. 124.] [Footnote 128: Foster, _Report of Crown Cases_, p. 70 _sqq._] [Footnote 129: Trummer, _op. cit._ i. 428, 432 _sqq._ (Germany). Jousse, _Traité de la justice criminelle de France_, ii. 617; Tissot, _Droit pénal_, i. 30 (France).] * * * * * The principle that intellectual incapacity lessens or excludes responsibility also applies to idiots and madmen. Though idiots are able to acquire some knowledge of general moral rules, the application of those rules is frequently beyond their powers;[130] and their capacity of foreseeing the consequences of their acts is necessarily very restricted. The same to some extent holds good of madmen; but, as will be shown in the next chapter, there is another ground for their irresponsibility besides the derangement of the intellect. [Footnote 130: von Krafft-Ebing, _Lehrbuch der gerichtlichen Psychopathologie_, p. 70.] All modern laws admit that, at least under certain circumstances, idiocy or madness exempts a person from criminal responsibility. According to Roman law, lunatics were even free from the obligation of paying indemnities for losses inflicted by them;[131] and so mild was their lot at Rome, that it became a practice for citizens to shirk their public duties by feigning madness.[132] Even savages recognise that lunatics and maniacs are not responsible for their deeds. The Abipones maintained that it was "wrong and irrational to use arms against those who are not in possession of their senses."[133] Among the North American Potawatomis many "are said to be 'foolish,' and not sensible of crime."[134] The Iroquois are "persuaded that a person who is not in his right senses is not to be reprehended, or at least not to be punished."[135] Hennepin states that "they had one day in the year which might be called the Festival of Fools; for in fact they pretended to be mad, rushing from hut to hut, so that if they ill-treated any one or carried off anything, they would say next day, {270} 'I was mad; I had not my senses about me.' And the others would accept this explanation and exact no vengeance."[136] The Melanesians "are sorry for lunatics and are kind to them, though their remedies are rough"; at Florida, for instance, a man went out of his mind, chased people, stole things and hid them, but "no one blamed him, because they knew that he was possessed by a _tindalo_ ghost."[137] Among the West African Fjort fools and idiots are not responsible personally for their actions.[138] Among the Wadshagga crimes committed by lunatics are judged of more leniently than others.[139] Among the Matabele madmen, being supposed to be possessed of a spirit, "were formerly under the protection of the King."[140] In Eastern Africa the natives say of an idiot or a lunatic, "He has fiends."[141] El Hajj [(]Abdssalam Shabeeny states that in Hausaland "a man guilty of a crime, who in the opinion of the judge is possessed by an evil spirit, is not punished."[142] [Footnote 131: von Vangerow, _Lehrbuch der Pandekten_, iii. 36. von Jhering, _Das Schuldmoment im römischen Privatrecht_, p. 42. Thon, _Rechtsnorm und subjectives Recht_, p. 106, n. 70.] [Footnote 132: _Digesta_, xxvii. 10. 6.] [Footnote 133: Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, ii. 234.] [Footnote 134: Keating, _Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River_, i. 127.] [Footnote 135: Charlevoix, _Voyage to North America_, ii. 24 _sq._] [Footnote 136: Hennepin, _Description de la Louisiane_, Les M[oe]urs des Sauvages, p. 71 _sq._] [Footnote 137: Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 218.] [Footnote 138: Dennett, in _Jour. African Society_, i. 276.] [Footnote 139: Merker, quoted by Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xv. 64.] [Footnote 140: Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, p. 154.] [Footnote 141: Burton, _Lake Regions of Central Africa_, ii. 320.] [Footnote 142: [(]Abdssalam Shabeeny, _Account of Timbuctoo and Housa_, p. 49.] The idea that derangement of the mind is due to spiritual possession, often makes the idiot or the insane an object of religious reverence.[143] The Macusis regard lunatics as holy.[144] The Brazilian Paravilhana believe that idiots are inspired.[145] According to Schoolcraft, "regard for lunatics, or the demented members of the human race, is a universal trait among the American tribes."[146] So, also, the African Barolong give a kind of worship to deranged persons, who are said to be under the direct influence of a deity.[147] A certain kind of madness was regarded by the ancient Greeks as a divine gift, and consequently as "superior to a sane mind."[148] Lane states that, among the modern {271} Egyptians, an idiot or a fool is vulgarly regarded "as a being whose mind is in heaven, while his grosser part mingles among ordinary mortals; consequently he is considered an especial favourite of heaven. Whatever enormities a reputed saint may commit (and there are many who are constantly infringing precepts of their religion), such acts do not affect his fame for sanctity; for they are considered as the results of the abstraction of his mind from worldly things--his soul, or reasoning faculties, being wholly absorbed in devotion--so that his passions are left without control. Lunatics who are dangerous to society are kept in confinement, but those who are harmless are generally regarded as saints."[149] The same holds good of Morocco. Lunatics are not even obliged to observe the Ramadan fast, the most imperative of all religious duties; of a person who, instead of abstaining from all food till sunset, was taking his meal in broad daylight in the open street, I heard the people forgivingly say, "The poor fellow does not know what he is doing, his mind is with God."[150] [Footnote 143: _Cf._ Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, ii. 128.] [Footnote 144: Andree, _Ethnographische Parallelen_, _Neue Folge_, p. 3.] [Footnote 145: von Martius, _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 633.] [Footnote 146: Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, iv. 49.] [Footnote 147: Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, ii. 130.] [Footnote 148: Plato, _Phædrus_, p. 244.] [Footnote 149: Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 237.] [Footnote 150: _Cf._ Gråberg di Hemsö, _Specchio geografico, e statistico dell' impero Marocco_, p. 182 _sq._] On the other hand there are peoples who treat their lunatics in a very different manner. The tribes of Western Victoria put them to death, "as they have a very great dread of mad people."[151] In Kar Nicobar madness is said to be the only cause for a death "penalty" that seems to exist there, the afflicted individual being garrotted with two pieces of bamboo;[152] but this practice seems to be a method of getting rid of a dangerous individual, rather than a penalty in the proper sense of the word. Among the Washambala a lunatic who commits homicide is killed--as our informant observes, "not really on account of his deed, but in order to prevent him from causing further mischief."[153] Among the Turks of Daghestan, we are told, mad people are subject to the rule of blood-revenge.[154] [Footnote 151: Dawson, _op. cit._ p. 61.] [Footnote 152: Distant, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ iii. 6.] [Footnote 153: Lang, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 257.] [Footnote 154: Miklosich, _loc. cit._ p. 131.] {272} In China lunatics are held responsible for their acts, although the ordinary penalty applicable is commuted, as for instance, in murder to imprisonment with fetters subject to His Majesty's pleasure. But when a lunatic deliberately kills his parents or grandparents, a representation will not serve; he is to be executed at once on the spot where the murder was committed or on the city execution ground, and the sentence--slicing to pieces--is to be carried out in all its horror though the lunatic be already dead.[155] [Footnote 155: Alabaster, _Commentaries on Chinese Law_, pp. 93, 96. _Cf._ Douglas, _Society in China_, pp. 72, 122.] According to ancient Welsh law, no vengeance is to be exercised against an idiot,[156] nor is the king to have any fine for the act of such a person.[157] But, "if idiots kill other persons, let _galanas_ [that is, blood-money] be paid on their behalf, as for other persons; because their kindred ought to prevent them doing wrong."[158] The Swedish provincial laws treated an injury committed by a lunatic in the same manner as an injury by misadventure, provided that the relatives of the injurer had publicly announced his madness, or, according to some laws, had kept him tied in bonds which he had broken; but if they had omitted to do so, the injury was treated as if it had been done wilfully.[159] The Icelandic Grágás even lays down the rule that a madman who has committed homicide shall suffer the same punishment as a sane person guilty of the same crime.[160] In England, in the times of Edward II. and Edward III., proof of madness appears not to have entitled a man to be acquitted, at least in case of murder, but to a special verdict that he committed the offence when mad, and this gave him a right to pardon.[161] Such a right, indeed, implies the admission that lunacy has a claim to forbearance; but from what we know about the treatment of lunatics during the Middle Ages and much later, we cannot be sure that the insane offender escaped {273} all punishment. In a case which occurred in 1315, it was presented that a certain lunatic wounded himself with a knife, and finally died of his wounds; his chattels were confiscated.[162] Lord Bacon says in his 'Maxims of the Law,' "If an infant within years of discretion, or a madman, kill another, he shall not be impeached thereof: but if he put out a man's eye, or do him like corporal hurt, he shall be punished in trespass"; in these latter cases, "the law doth rather consider the damage of the party wronged, than the malice of him that was the wrong-doer."[163] In none of the German town-laws before the beginning of the seventeenth century is there any special provision for the offences of lunatics;[164] and, according to the Statutes of Hamburg of 1605, though a madman who kills a person shall not be punished as an ordinary manslayer, he is yet to be punished.[165] In Germany recognised idiots and madmen were not seldom punished with great severity, and even with death, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.[166] One of the darkest pages in the history of European civilisation may be filled with a description of the sufferings which were inflicted upon those miserable beings up to quite modern times.[167] Many of them were burnt as witches or heretics, or treated as ordinary criminals. For unruly and crazy people, who nowadays would be comfortably located in an asylum, whipping-posts and stocks were made use of. Shakespeare speaks of madmen as deserving "a dark house and a whip";[168] and Swift observes that original people like Diogenes and others, if they had lived in his day, would have been treated like madmen, that is, would have incurred "manifest danger of phlebotomy, and whips, and chains, and dark chambers, and straw."[169] The writings of {274} Esquirol, the parliamentary debates on the asylums of Bedlam and York, and the reports presented under the auspices of La Rochefoucauld to the National Assembly of 1789, contain a picture unique in its sadness--"a picture of prisons in which lunatics, criminal lunatics, and criminals are huddled together indiscriminately without regard to sex or age, of asylums in which the maniac, to whom motion is an imperious necessity, is chained in the same cell with the victim of melancholia whom his ravings soon goad into furious madness, and of hospitals in which the epileptic, the scrofulous, the paralytic and the insane sleep side by side--a picture of cells, dark, foul, and damp, with starving, diseased, and naked inmates, flogged into submission, or teased into fury for the sport of idle spectators."[170] [Footnote 156: _Dimetian Code_, ii. 1. 32 (_Ancient Laws and Institutes of Wales_, p. 200).] [Footnote 157: _Venedotian Code_, ii. 28. 3 (_ibid._ p. 98).] [Footnote 158: _Welsh Laws_, iv. 1. 2 (_ibid._ p. 389).] [Footnote 159: von Amira, _Nordgermanisches Obligationenrecht_, i. 375.] [Footnote 160: _Grágás_, Vigsloþi, 33, vol. ii. 64.] [Footnote 161: Stephen, _op. cit._ ii. 151.] [Footnote 162: Wigmore, _loc. cit._ p. 446.] [Footnote 163: Bacon, _Maxims of the Law_, reg. 7 (_Works_, vii. 347 _sq._).] [Footnote 164: Trummer, _op. cit._ i. 428.] [Footnote 165: _Ibid._ i. 432.] [Footnote 166: _Ibid._ i. 438 _sqq._] [Footnote 167: See Tuke, _Chapters in the History of the Insane in the British Isles_, p. 43 _sq._; Maudsley, _Responsibility in Mental Disease_, p. 10 _sq._; Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 85 _sqq._] [Footnote 168: Shakespeare, _As you Like it_, iii. 2.] [Footnote 169: Swift, _Tale of a Tub_, sec. 9 (_Works_, x. 163).] [Footnote 170: Wood-Renton, 'Moral Mania,' in _Law Quarterly Review_, iii. 340.] Whatever share indifference to human suffering may have had in all these atrocities and all this misery, it is likely that thoughtlessness, superstition, and ignorance have had a much larger share. We have noticed that, when a certain deed gives a shock to public feelings, the circumstances in which it has been committed are easily lost sight of. Considering that the Chinese punish persons who have killed their father or mother by pure accident, it is not surprising that they punish madmen who kill a parent wilfully. Even a man like Smollett, the well-known writer, thought it would be neither absurd nor unreasonable for the legislature to divest all lunatics of the privilege of insanity in cases of enormity, and to subject them "to the common penalties of the law."[171] Moreover, as we have seen, madness is often attributed to demoniacal possession,[172] and in other cases it is regarded as a divine punishment.[173] From a pagan {275} point of view this would make the lunatic an object of pity or dread, rather than of indignation; as the Roman legislator said, the insane murderer ought not to be punished, because his insanity itself is a sufficient penalty.[174] But in Christian Europe, where up to quite recent times men were ever ready to punish God's enemies, a lunatic, who was supposed to have the devil in him, or whose affliction was regarded as the visitation of God upon heresy or sin,[175] was a hateful individual and was treated accordingly. Finally, we have to take into account that the sensibility of a lunatic was thought to be inferior to that of a sane person;[176] that the mental characteristics of insanity were little understood; and that, in consequence, many demented persons were treated as if they were sane because they were thought to be sane, and others, though recognised as lunatics, were treated as responsible because they were thought to be responsible. The history of the English law referring to insanity bears sad testimony to the ignorance of which lunatics have been victims in the hands of lawyers. [Footnote 171: Smollett, quoted by Tuke, _op. cit._ p. 96.] [Footnote 172: See also Doughty, _Arabia Deserta_, i. 258 _sq._; Westermarck, 'Nature of the Arab _[vG]inn_ illustrated by the Present Beliefs of the People of Morocco,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxix, 254; Andree, _op. cit._ p. 2 _sq._; Tuke, _op. cit._ p. 1; Pike, _History of Crime in England_, i. 39; von Krafft-Ebing, _op. cit._ p. 5.] [Footnote 173: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 854. Esquirol, _Des maladies mentales_, i. 336.] [Footnote 174: _Digesta_, i. 18. 14; xlviii. 9. 9.] [Footnote 175: Wood-Renton, _loc. cit._ p. 339.] [Footnote 176: _Ibid._ p. 339.] From the year 1724 there is a dictum of an English judge to the effect that a man who is to be exempted from punishment "must be a man that is totally deprived of his understanding and memory, and doth not know what he is doing, no more than an infant, than a brute, or a wild beast."[177] From the beginning of the nineteenth century, the power of distinguishing right from wrong in the abstract was regarded as the test of responsibility;[178] whilst in the existing doctrine, dating from the trial of M[(]Naughten in 1843, the question of knowledge of right and wrong, instead of being put generally and indefinitely, is put in reference to the particular act at the particular time of committing it.[179] This series of doctrines certainly shows a noteworthy progress {276} in discrimination. But at the same time the answers given by the fourteen English judges to the questions put to them by the House of Lords in consequence of M[(]Naughten's case still display an ignorance which would nowadays be hardly possible. In reply to the question--"If a person under an insane delusion as to existing facts, commits an offence in consequence thereof, is he thereby excused?"--the judges declared that, on the assumption "that he labours under such partial delusion only, and is not in other respects insane, . . . he must be considered in the same situation as to responsibility as if the facts with respect to which the delusion exists were real. For example, if under the influence of his delusion he supposes another man to be in the act of attempting to take away his life, and he kills that man, as he supposes, in self-defence, he would be exempt from punishment. If his delusion was that the deceased had inflicted a serious injury to his character and fortune, and he killed him in revenge for such supposed injury, he would be liable to punishment."[180] The mistake committed in this answer does not lie in the conclusion, but in the premise. "Here," as Professor Maudsley observes, "is an unhesitating assumption that a man, having an insane delusion, has the power to think and act in regard to it reasonably; that, at the time of the offence, he ought to have and to exercise the knowledge and self-control which a sane man would have and exercise, were the facts with respect to which the delusion exists real; that he is, in fact, bound to be reasonable in his unreason, sane in his insanity."[181] Modern science, however, teaches us another lesson. It has shown that a delusion of the kind suggested never stands alone, but is in all cases the result of a disease of the brain which interferes more or less with every function of the mind, and that few insane persons who do violence can be truly said to have a full knowledge of the nature and quality of their acts at the time they are performing {277} them.[182] A perhaps still greater defect in the doctrine of the fourteen judges is the absence of all reference to the influence of insane impulses; but with this subject we are not concerned at present. In this connection my object has been merely to show that the irresponsibility of the insane, in so far as it depends on intellectual derangement, has been generally recognised in proportion as their intellectual derangement has been recognised, and that the exceptions to this rule are explicable from beliefs which, though materially affecting the treatment of the insane, have no reference to the principle of responsibility itself. [Footnote 177: Howell, _Collection of State Trials_, xvi. 765.] [Footnote 178: Harris, _Principles of the Criminal Law_, p. 18. Kenny, _op. cit._ p. 53.] [Footnote 179: Clark and Finnelly, _Reports of Cases decided in the House of Lords_, x. 202.] [Footnote 180: _Ibid._ x. 211.] [Footnote 181: Maudsley, _op. cit._ p. 97.] [Footnote 182: Griesinger, _Mental Pathology and Therapeutics_, p. 72 _sq._ Maudsley, _op. cit._ p. 96.] * * * * * There are temporary states of mind in which the agent no more knows what he is doing than an idiot or a madman, such as somnambulism, narcosis, fury. For these states, of course, the rule holds good, that nobody is responsible for what he does in ignorance, although he may be responsible for his ignorance. Responsibility in connection with anger and rage will be more appropriately dealt with in another place. I shall here restrict myself to the case of drunkenness. A person is irresponsible, or only partly responsible, for what he does when drunk, according as he is ignorant of the nature of his act, as also in so far as the intoxicant contributed to the rise of some powerful impulse which determined his will. If he commits an offence in a state of extreme intoxication, he can reasonably be blamed only for what he did when sober. If he made himself drunk for the purpose of committing the offence, then the offence is intended, and he is equally responsible for his act as if he had accomplished it straightway. If he became intoxicated without any fault of his, for instance, if he did not know, and could not know, the intoxicating quality of the liquor which made him drunk, he is free from blame. But in other cases he is guilty of heedlessness, or rashness, or, if he foresaw the danger, of blamable indifference to {278} the probable consequences of his act. This is the clear theory of the question. But we cannot expect to find it accurately expressed in practice. Very generally drunkenness is recognised as a ground of extenuation. We hear from various sources that the North American Indians were exceedingly merciful to intoxicated offenders. According to Charlevoix, the Iroquois "suffer themselves to be ill used by drunken people, without defending themselves, for fear of hurting them. If you endeavour to shew them the folly of this conduct, they say, 'Why should we hurt them? They know not what they do.'" Even "if a savage kills another belonging to his cabin, if he is drunk (and they often counterfeit drunkenness when they intend to commit such actions),[183] all the consequence is, that they pity and weep for the dead. 'It is a misfortune (they say), the murderer knew not what he did.'"[184] James makes a similar statement with reference to the Omahas.[185] In his description of the aborigines of Pennsylvania, Blome observes, "It is rare that they fall out, if sober; and if drunk they forgive it, saying, it was the drink, and not the man that abused them."[186] Benjamin Franklin tells us of some Indians who had misbehaved in a state of intoxication, and in consequence sent three of their old men to apologise; "the orator acknowledged the fault, but laid it upon the rum, and then endeavoured to excuse the rum."[187] The detestable deeds which men did under the influence of _pulcre_, or the native Mexican wine, the Aztecs attributed to the god of wine or to the wine itself, and not in the least to the drunken man. Indeed, if anybody spoke ill of or insulted an intoxicated person, he was liable to be punished for disrespect to the god by which that person was supposed to be possessed. {279} Hence, says Sahagun, it was believed, not without ground, that the Indians made themselves drunk on purpose to commit with impunity crimes for which they would have been punished if they had committed them sober.[188] [Footnote 183: _Cf._ Hennepin, _op. cit._ p. 71.] [Footnote 184: Charlevoix, _op. cit._ ii. 23, 25. According to Loskiel (_History of the Mission of the United Brethren among the Indians in North America_, i. 16), the Iroquois, though they laid all the blame on the rum, punished severely murder committed in drunkenness.] [Footnote 185: James, _Expedition from Pittsburgh to the Rocky Mountains_, i. 265.] [Footnote 186: Blome, in Buchanan, _North American Indians_, p. 328.] [Footnote 187: Franklin, _Autobiography_, ch. ix. (_Works_, i. 164).] [Footnote 188: Sahagun, _Historia general de las cosas de Nueva España_, i. 22, vol. i. 40.] Among the Karens of India "men are not unfrequently killed in drunken broils; but such cases are not allowed by Karen custom to be a cause of action. No price can be demanded for persons who lose their lives in such circumstances. It is argued there was no malice, no intention to kill; and the person who died was perhaps as much to blame as the man who killed him; and people are not well responsible for what they do in a state of intoxication."[189] Among the Kandhs, "for wounds, however serious, given under circumstances of extreme provocation, or in a drunken squabble, slight compensation is awarded."[190] Among some of the Marshall Islanders blood-revenge is generally not taken for an act of homicide which has been committed in drunkenness, compensation being accepted instead.[191] So, also, according to the ancient law of the East Frisians, a man who has killed another when drunk is allowed "to buy off his neck by a sum of money paid to the king and to the relatives of the slain."[192] [Footnote 189: Mason, in _Jour. As. Soc. Bengal_, xxxvii. pt. ii. 146.] [Footnote 190: Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 82.] [Footnote 191: Jung, quoted by Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xiv. 446.] [Footnote 192: _Das Ostfriesische Land-Recht_, iii. 18.] Roman law regarded drunkenness as a ground of extenuation;[193] the Jurist Marcian mentions _ebrietas_ as an example of _impetus_, thereby intimating that a drunken person, when committing a crime, should not be put on the same footing with an offender acting in cold blood, and calculating his act with clear consciousness.[194] In Canon law drunkenness is said to be a ground which deserves the indulgence of a reasonable judge, because whatever is done in that state is done without consciousness on the part of the actor.[195] Indeed, had not God shown {280} indulgence for the offence committed by Lot when drunk?[196] Partly on the authority of Roman law, partly on that of Canon law, the earliest practitioners of the Middle Ages followed the principle that drunkenness is a ground of extenuation; and this doctrine remained strongly rooted in the later jurisprudence, in which a drunken person was likened to one under the influence of sleep, or drunkenness was regarded as equivalent to insanity.[197] It was not until the sixteenth century that a mere general rule, with regard to drunkenness as a ground of extenuation, was felt to be insufficient. Since the time of Clarus, especially, the opinion began to prevail, that the effect of the highest degree of drunkenness was, indeed, to exempt from the punishment of _dolus_, but that the offender was still subject to the punishment of _culpa_, except in two cases, namely, first, when he inebriated himself intentionally, and with a consciousness that he might commit a crime while drunk, in which case the drunkenness was not allowed to be any ground of exculpation at all; and, secondly, when he became intoxicated without any fault on his part, as, for example, in consequence of inebriating substances having been mingled with his wine by his comrades, in which case he was relieved even from the punishment of _culpa_.[198] These views, in the main, gradually determined the German practice, and similar opinions prevailed in the practice of Italy, Spain, Portugal, and the Netherlands.[199] In the annals of Prussian criminal justice of 1824, a case is reported of a man who was punished with only one year's imprisonment for having killed his little child in a state of drunkenness.[200] In other countries a different principle was acted upon. An ordinance of Francis I. declared that drunkenness should not in any case absolve from the ordinary punishment;[201] and this rule was sanctioned and {281} applied by the later French jurisprudence.[202] In the Code Pénal, the state of drunkenness is not mentioned as a mitigating circumstance; yet the rigour of the law has been tempered by the doctrine that intoxication produces a temporary insanity and that every kind of insanity is a ground of exculpation.[203] In England,[204] Scotland,[205] and the United States,[206] a state of voluntary drunkenness is no excuse for crime. Speaking of a person who commits homicide when drunk, Hale says that "by the laws of England such a person shall have no privilege by this voluntary contracted madness, but shall have the same judgment as if he were in his right senses."[207] However, in a case where the intention with which the act was done is the essence of the offence, the drunkenness of the accused may be taken into account by the jury when considering the motive or intent with which he acted.[208] According to Chinese law, also, intoxication does not affect the question of responsibility.[209] [Footnote 193: _Digesta_, xlviii. 19. 11. 2; xlix. 16. 6. 7. Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 1043.] [Footnote 194: _Digesta_, xlviii. 19. 11. 2.] [Footnote 195: Gratian, _Decretum_, ii. 15. 1. 7.] [Footnote 196: _Ibid._ ii. 15. 1. 9.] [Footnote 197: Mittermaier, _Effect of Drunkenness on Criminal Responsibility_, p. 6.] [Footnote 198: Clarus, _Practica criminalis_, qu. lx. nr. 11 (_Opera omnia_, ii. 462).] [Footnote 199: Mittermaier, _op. cit._ p. 7. Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, p. 290. Italian _Codice Penale_, art. 46 _sqq._ Spanish _Código Penal reformado_, art. 9, §6.] [Footnote 200: _Zeitschr. f. die Criminal-Rechts-Pflege in den Preussischen Staaten_, edited by Hitzig, iii. 60.] [Footnote 201: Isambert, Decrusy, and Armet, _Recueil général des anciennes lois françaises_, xii. 527.] [Footnote 202: Mittermaier, _op. cit._ p. 8.] [Footnote 203: _Ibid._ p. 12 _sq._ Rivière, _loc. cit._ p. 7.] [Footnote 204: Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, ii. 165.] [Footnote 205: Hume, _Commentaries on the Law of Scotland_, i. 38. Erskine-Rankine, _op. cit._ p. 545.] [Footnote 206: Bishop, _op. cit._ § 400 _sq._ vol. i. 231 _sqq._] [Footnote 207: Hale, _op. cit._ i. 32.] [Footnote 208: Harris, _op. cit._ p. 21. Stephen, _Digest_, art. 32, p. 22.] [Footnote 209: Giles, _Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio_, ii. 30, n. 2.] The great forbearance with which injuries inflicted in a state of intoxication are treated by various peoples at comparatively low stages of civilisation, is no doubt, to some extent, due to lack of foresight. Failing to anticipate the harmful consequences which may follow from drunkenness, they also fail to recognise the culpability of indulging in it. The American Indians are notorious drunkards, and look upon drunkenness as a "delightful frolick."[210] Among the Kandhs drunkenness is likewise universal, and their "orgies are evidently not regarded as displeasing to their gods."[211] The belief that an intoxicated person is possessed with a demon and acts under its influence, also helps {282} to excuse him.[212] On the other hand, where the law makes no difference between an offender who is sober and an offender who is drunk, the culpability of the latter is exaggerated in consequence of the stirring effect which the outward event has upon public feelings. So great is the influence of the event that certain laws, most unreasonably, punish a person both for what he does when drunk and for making himself drunk. Thus Aristotle tells us that legislators affixed double penalties to crimes committed in drunkenness.[213] The same was done by Charles V., in an edict of 1531,[214] and by Francis I. in 1536.[215] Hardly more reasonable is it that the very society which shows no mercy whatever to the intoxicated offender, is most indulgent to the act of intoxication itself when not accompanied by injurious consequences. Of course it may be argued that drunkenness is blamable in proportion as the person who indulges in it might expect it to lead to mischievous results. It has also been said that, if drunkenness were allowed to excuse, the gravest crimes might be committed with impunity by those who either counterfeited the state or actually assumed it. Some people even maintain that inebriation brings out a person's true character. In a Chinese story we read, "Many drunkards will tell you that they cannot remember in the morning the extravagances of the previous night, but I tell you this is all nonsense, and that in nine cases out of ten those extravagances are committed wittingly and with malice prepense."[216] However, with all allowance for such considerations, I venture to believe that in this, as in many other cases where an injury results from want of foresight, the extreme severity of certain laws is largely due to the fact that the legislator has been more concerned with the external deed than with its source. [Footnote 210: Adair, _History of the American Indians_, p. 5. Catlin, _North American Indians_, ii. 251. Colden, in Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes_, iii. 191. Prescott, _ibid._ iii. 242. James, _op. cit._ i. 265.] [Footnote 211: Campbell, _Wild Tribes of Khondistan_, p. 165. Macpherson, _op. cit._ p. 81 _sq._] [Footnote 212: _Cf._ Dorsey, 'Siouan Cults,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xi. 424.] [Footnote 213: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, iii. 5. 8.] [Footnote 214: Damhouder, _Praxis rerum criminalium_, lxxxiv. 20, p. 241.] [Footnote 215: Isambert, Decrusy, and Armet, _op. cit._ xii. 527.] [Footnote 216: Giles, _op. cit._ ii. 30.] CHAPTER XI MOTIVES NO enlightened and conscientious moral judge can regard his judgment as final, unless he know the motive, or motives, of the volition by which his judgment is occasioned. But in ordinary moral estimates little attention is paid to motives. Men desire that certain acts should be performed, and that certain other acts should be abstained from. The conative causes of acts or forbearances are not equally interesting, and they are often hidden. They are considered only in proportion as the moral judgment is influenced by reflection. Take, for instance, acts which are performed from a sense of duty. It is commonly said that a person ought to obey his conscience. Yet, in point of fact, by doing so he may expose himself to hardly less censure than does the greatest villain. The reason for this is not far to seek. A man's moral conviction is to some extent an expression of his character, hence he may be justly blamed for having a certain moral conviction. And the blame which he may deserve on that account is easily exaggerated, partly because people are apt to be very intolerant concerning opinions of right and wrong which differ from their own, partly owing to the influence which external events exercise upon their minds. Somewhat greater discrimination is shown in regard to motives consisting of powerful non-volitional conations which in no way represent the agent's character, but to which {284} he yields reluctantly, or by which he is carried away on the spur of the moment. In many such cases even the law--which regards it as no excuse if a person commits a crime from a feeling of duty[1]--displays more or less indulgence to the perpetrator of a harmful deed. [Footnote 1: _Cf._ the case Reg. _v._ Morby, _Law Reports, Cases determined in the Queen's Bench Division_, viii. 571 _sqq._] Thus, in the eye of the law, compulsion is oftentimes a ground of extenuation. Strictly speaking, a volition can never be compelled into existence;[2] to act under compulsion really means to act under the influence of some non-voluntary motive, so powerful that every ordinary human will would yield to it. As Aristotle puts it, pardon is given when "a man has done what he ought not to have done through fear of things beyond the power of human nature to endure, and such that no man could undergo them. And yet, perhaps, there are some things which a man must never allow himself to be compelled to do, but must rather choose death by the most exquisite torments."[3] This principle has been in some degree recognised by legislation. In many cases of felony, if a married woman commits the crime in the presence of her husband, the law of England presumes that she acts under his coercion, and therefore excuses her from punishment, unless the presumption of law is rebutted by evidence;[4] but children and servants are not acquitted if committing crimes by the command of a parent or a master.[5] Besides the presumption made in favour of married women, compulsion by threats of injury to person or property is recognised as an excuse for crime only, as it seems, in cases in which the compulsion is applied by a body of rebels or rioters, and in which the offender takes a subordinate part in the offence.[6] In a time of peace, on the other hand, though a man be violently assaulted, and have no other possible {285} means of escaping death but by killing an innocent person, if he commit the act he will be guilty of murder; "for he ought rather to die himself, than kill an innocent."[7] It has even been laid down as a general principle that "the apprehension of personal danger does not furnish any excuse for assisting in doing any act which is illegal."[8] But the English law relating to _duress per minas_, and to constraint in general, seems to be harsher both than most modern continental laws[9] and than Roman law.[10] Some of the Italian practitioners were even of opinion that a person who committed homicide by the command of his prince or some other powerful man was exempt from all punishment.[11] According to the Talmud, any offence perpetrated under compulsion or in mortal fear is excusable in the eye of the law, excepting only murder and adultery.[12] [Footnote 2: Bradley, _Ethical Studies_, p. 40, n. 1.] [Footnote 3: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, iii. i. 7 _sq._] [Footnote 4: Hale, _History of the Pleas of the Crown_, i. 44 _sqq._ 434. Harris, _Principles of the Criminal Law_, p. 25. Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, ii. 105 _sq._] [Footnote 5: Hale, _op. cit._ i. 44. Harris, _op. cit._ p. 26.] [Footnote 6: Stephen, _op. cit._ ii. 106.] [Footnote 7: Hale, _op. cit._ i. 51. Harris, _op. cit._ p. 24 _sq._] [Footnote 8: Denman, C. J., in Reg. _v._ Tyler, reported in Carrington and Payne, _Reports of Cases argued and ruled at Nisi Prius_, viii. 621.] [Footnote 9: _Code Pénal_, art. 64; Chauveau and Hélie, _Théorie du Code Pénal_, i. 534 _sqq._ Italian _Codice Penale_, art. 49. Spanish _Código Penal reformado_, art. 8, § 9 _sqq._ Finger, _Compendium des österreichischen Rechtes--Das Strafrecht_, i. 119. Foinitzki, in _Législation pénale comparée_, edited by von Liszt, p. 530 (Russian law). _Ottoman Penal Code_, art. 42.] [Footnote 10: Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 653. Janka, _Der strafrechtliche Notstand_, p. 48.] [Footnote 11: Janka, _op. cit._ p. 60. A different view, however, is expressed by Covarruvias (_De matrimoniis_, ii. 3. 4. 6 _sq._ [_Opera omnia_, i. 139]):--"Metus numquam excusat nec a mortali, nec a veniali crimine. Peccatum maximum malum, nec eo quid grauius."] [Footnote 12: Benny, _Criminal Code of the Jews according to the Talmud Massecheth Synhedrin_, p. 125.] Suppose, again, that the motive of breaking the law is what has been called "compulsion by necessity." The old instance of shipwrecked persons in a boat unable to carry them all is a standing illustration of this principle. Sir James Stephen says, that "should such a case arise, it is impossible to suppose that the survivors would be subjected to legal punishment."[13] Yet, in a very similar case, occurring in the year 1884, they were. Three men and a boy escaped in an open boat from the shipwreck of the yacht _Mignonette_. After passing eight days without food, and seeing no prospect of relief, the men killed the boy, who was {286} on the verge of death, in order to feed on his body. Four days later they were rescued by a passing ship; and, on their arrival in England, two of the men were tried for the murder of the boy. The defence raised was that the act was necessary for the purpose of self-preservation. But it was held by the Court for Crown Cases Reserved, that such necessity was no justification of the act of causing death when there was a distinct intention to take away the life of another innocent person. However, the sentence of death was afterwards commuted by the Crown to six months' imprisonment.[14] In the same case it was even said that if the boy had had food in his possession, and the others had taken it from him, they would have been guilty of theft.[15] Bacon's proposition that "if a man steal viands to satisfy his present hunger, this is no felony nor larceny,"[16] is not law at the present day.[17] It was expressly contradicted by Hale, who lays down the following rule:--"If a person, being under necessity for want of victuals, or clothes, shall upon that account clandestinely, and _animo furandi_ steal another man's goods, it is felony and a crime by the laws of England punishable with death; altho the judge, before whom the trial is, in this case (as in other cases of extremity) be by the laws of England intrusted with a power to reprieve the offender before or after judgment, in order to the obtaining the king's mercy."[18] Britton excuses "infants under age, and poor people, who through hunger enter the house of another for victuals under the value of twelve pence."[19] According to the Swedish Westgöta-Lag, a poor man who can find no other means of relieving himself and his family from hunger may thrice with impunity appropriate food belonging to somebody else, but if he does so a fourth time he is punished for theft.[20] The Canonist says, "Necessitas legem non {287} habet"[21]--"Raptorem vel furem non facit necessitas, sed voluntas."[22] This principle has the sanction of the Gospel. Jesus said to the Pharisees, "Have ye not read what David did, when he was an hungered, and they that were with him; How he entered into the house of God, and did eat the shewbread, which was not lawful for him to eat, neither for them which were with him, but only for the priests?"[23] [Footnote 13: Stephen, _op. cit._ ii. 108. So, also, according to Bacon's _Maxims of the Law_, reg. 5 (_Works_, vii. 344), homicide is in such a case justifiable.] [Footnote 14: Reg. _v._ Dudley and Stephens, in _Law Reports, Cases determined in the Queen's Bench Division_, xiv. 273 _sqq._] [Footnote 15: _Ibid._ xiv. 276.] [Footnote 16: Bacon, _Maxims of the Law_, reg. 5 (_Works_, vii. 343).] [Footnote 17: Reg. _v._ Dudley and Stephens, in _Law Reports, Queen's Bench Division_, xiv. 286.] [Footnote 18: Hale, _op. cit._ i. 54.] [Footnote 19: Britton, i. 11, vol. i. 42.] [Footnote 20: _Westgöta-Lagen II._ þiufua bolker, 14, p. 164 _sq._] [Footnote 21: Gratian, _Decretum_, iii. 1. 11.] [Footnote 22: _Ibid._ iii. 5. 26.] [Footnote 23: _St. Matthew_, xii. 1 _sqq._] According to Muhammedan law, the hand is not to be cut off for stealing any article of food that is quickly perishable, because it may have been taken to supply the immediate demands of hunger.[24] We are told that "no Chinese magistrate would be found to pass sentence upon a man who stole food under stress of hunger."[25] In ancient Peru, according to Herrera, "he that robb'd without need was banish'd to the Mountains Andes, never to return without the Inga's leave, and if worth it paid the value of what he had taken. He that for want stole eatables only was reprov'd, and receiv'd no other punishment, but enjoyn'd to work, and threatened, that if he did so again, he should be chastiz'd by carrying a stone on his back, which was very disgraceful."[26] We even hear of savages who regard "compulsion by necessity" as a ground of extenuation. Among the West African Fjort robbery of plantations, committed in a state of great hunger, is exempt from punishment in case there is no deception or secrecy in the matter; however, payment for damage done is expected.[27] Cook says of the Tahitians:--"Those who steal clothes or arms, are commonly put to death, either by hanging or drowning in the sea; but those who steal provisions are bastinadoed. By this practice they wisely vary the punishment of the same crime, when committed from different motives."[28] [Footnote 24: Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 121.] [Footnote 25: Giles, _Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio_, ii. 217, n. 5.] [Footnote 26: Herrera, _General History of the West Indies_, iv. 337.] [Footnote 27: Dennett, in _Jour. African Society_, i. 276.] [Footnote 28: Cook, _Journal of a Voyage round the World_, p. 41 _sq._] {288} A special kind of self-preservation is self-defence. Here the ground of justification is not merely the motive of the agent, but also the wrongness or criminality of the act which he tries to prevent. Hence the right of inflicting injuries as a necessary means of self-preservation has been more generally recognised in the case of self-defence than in other cases of "compulsion by necessity." "Vim vi repellere" was regarded by the ancients as a natural right,[29] as a law "non scripta, sed nata";[30] and the same view was taken by the Canonist.[31] Even in the savage world self-defence and killing in self-defence are not infrequently justified by custom.[32] But in other instances the influence of the external event makes itself felt also in the case of self-defence. Among the Fjort, though a person who kills another in self-defence is exempt from punishment, he is expected to pay damages.[33] Among the Hottentots self-defence is regarded as a mitigating circumstance, but not as an excuse in the full sense of the word.[34] Among other peoples it is not considered at all.[35] Among the ancient Teutons a person who committed homicide in self-defence had to pay _wer_;[36] and in Germany such a person seems to have been subject to punishment still in the later Middle Ages.[37] In England, in the thirteenth century, he was considered to deserve royal pardon, but he also needed it.[38] [Footnote 29: _Digesta_, xliii. 16. i. 27: "Vim vi repellere licere Cassius scribit idque ius natura comparatur."] [Footnote 30: Cicero, _Pro Milone_, 4 (10).] [Footnote 31: Gratian, _Decretum_, i. 1. 7.] [Footnote 32: Merker, quoted by Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xv. 64 (Wadshagga). Lang, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 257 (Washambala).] [Footnote 33: Dennett, in _Jour. African Society_, i. 276.] [Footnote 34: Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xv. 353.] [Footnote 35: Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 50 (Banaka and Bapuku). Tellier, _ibid._ p. 176 (Kreis Kita). Marx, _ibid._ p. 357 (Amahlubi). Senfft, _ibid._ p. 450 (Marshall Islanders).] [Footnote 36: Geyer, _Lehre von der Nothwehr_, p. 88 _sqq._ Trummer, _Vorträge über Tortur, &c._ i. 430. Stemann, _Den danske Retshistorie indtil Christian V.'s Lov_, p. 659. _Cf._ _Leges Henrici I._ lxxx. 7; lxxxvii. 6.] [Footnote 37: Trummer, _op. cit._ i. 428 _sqq._ von Feuerbach-Mittermaier, _Lehrbuch des Peinlichen Rechts_, p. 64. Brunner observes (_Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 630), "Nicht das Benehmen des Getöteten war die causa des Todschlags, sondern nur die feindselige Absicht des Todschlagers."] [Footnote 38: Bracton, _De Legibus et Consuetudinibus Angliæ_, fol. 132 b, vol. ii. 366 _sqq._ Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the Time of Edward I._ ii. 574.] {289} In self-defence there should of course be a proportion between the injury which the aggressor intended to inflict and the injury inflicted on him by the person attacked. The most widely-recognised ground on which life is allowed to be taken in self-defence is danger of death. But it is not the exclusive ground. Among the Wakamba "a thief entering a village at night can be killed"; though, if he is, the incident generally gives rise to a blood-feud between his family and the family of the slayer.[39] In Uganda "there is no penalty for killing a thief who enters an enclosure at night";[40] and among various peoples at higher stages of culture we likewise find the provision that a nocturnal thief or house-breaker may be killed with impunity, though a diurnal thief may not.[41] This law, however, seems to have been due not so much to the fact that by night the proprietor had less chance of recovering his property, as to the greater danger to which he was personally exposed.[42] The Roman Law of the Twelve Tables allows the diurnal thief also to be killed, in case he defends himself with a weapon;[43] and, as regards the nocturnal thief, Ulpian expressly says that the owner of the property is justified in killing him only if he cannot spare the life of the thief without peril to himself.[44] The same rule was laid down by Bracton[45] and by Grotius. The latter observes, "No one ought to be slain directly for the sake of mere things, which would be done if I were to kill an unarmed flying thief with a missile, and so recover my goods: but if I am myself in danger of life, then I may repel the danger even with danger to the life of another; nor does this cease to hold, however I have come into that danger, whether by trying to retain my property, or to {290} recover it, or to capture the thief; for in all these cases I am acting lawfully according to my right."[46] [Footnote 39: Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, p. 488.] [Footnote 40: Ashe, _Two Kings of Uganda_, p. 294.] [Footnote 41: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cclxxvii. p. 297 (Chinese). _Exodus_, xxii. 2 _sq._ _Lex Duodecim Tabularum_, viii. 11 _sq._ Plato, _Leges_, ix. 874. _Lex Baiuwariorum_, ix. (viii.) 5. Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, p. 288 (Spanish Partidas).] [Footnote 42: _Cf._ Gregory IX. _Decretales_, v. 12. 3; _Mishna_, fol. 72, quoted by Rabbinowicz, _Législation criminelle du Talmud_, p. 122.] [Footnote 43: _Lex Duodecim Tabularum_, viii. 12. Cicero, _Pro Milone_, 3 (9).] [Footnote 44: _Digesta_, xlviii. 8. 9.] [Footnote 45: Bracton, _op. cit._ fol. 144 b, vol. ii. 464 _sq._] [Footnote 46: Grotius, _De jure belli et pacis_, ii. 1. 12. 1.] According to the law of England, a woman is justified in killing one who attempts to ravish her; and so also the husband or father may kill a man who attempts a rape on his wife or daughter, if she do not consent.[47] We meet with similar provisions in many other laws, modern and ancient.[48] St. Augustine says that the law allows the killing of a ravisher of chastity, either before or after the act, in the same manner as it permits a person to kill a highwayman who makes an attempt upon his life.[49] According to the Talmud, it is permissible to kill a would-be criminal, in order to prevent the commission of either murder or adultery "to save an innocent man's life, or a woman's honour"; but when the crime has already been accomplished, the criminal cannot be thus disposed of.[50] [Footnote 47: Harris, _op. cit._ p. 145.] [Footnote 48: Erskine-Rankine, _Principles of the Law of Scotland_, p. 558. _Ottoman Penal Code_, art. 186. Nordström, _Bidrag till den svenska samhälls-författningens historia_, ii. 349 (ancient Swedish laws). Plato, _Leges_, ix. 874.] [Footnote 49: St. Augustine, _De libero arbitrio_, i. 5 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, xxxii. 1227).] [Footnote 50: Benny, _op. cit._ p. 125. Rabbinowicz, _op. cit._ p. 124.] Among many peoples who in other cases prohibit self-redress, an adulterer and an adulteress may be put to death by the aggrieved husband, especially if they be caught _flagrante delicto_. Such a custom prevails in various uncivilised societies where justice is generally administered by a council of elders or the chief.[51] Among the ancient {291} Peruvians "a man killing his wife for adultery was free; but if for any other fault he died for it, unless he were a man in dignity, and then some other penalty was inflicted."[52] According to Chinese penal law, "when a principal or inferior wife is discovered by her husband in the act of adultery, if such husband at the very time that he discovers kills the adulterer, or adulteress, or both, he shall not be punishable."[53] By the law of Nepal, the Parbattia husband retains the privilege of avenging, with his own hand, the violation of his marriage bed, and anyone, save a learned Brahman or a helpless boy, who instead of using his own sword, should appeal to the courts, would be covered with eternal disgrace.[54] In all purely Moslem nations custom "overwhelms with ignominy the husband or son of an adulteress who survives the discovery of her sin; he is taboo'd by society; he becomes a laughing-stock to the vulgar, and a disgrace to his family and friends."[55] According to the 'Lex Julia de adulteriis,' a Roman father had a right to kill both his married daughter and her accomplice if she was taken in adultery either in his house or in her husband's, provided that both of them were killed, and that it was done at once. The husband, on the other hand, had no such right as to his wife in any case, and no such right as to her accomplice unless he was an infamous person or a slave, taken, not in his father-in-law's house, but in his own.[56] However, it seems that in more ancient times the husband was entitled to kill an adulterous wife;[57] and his right of self-redress in the case of adultery was again somewhat extended by Justinian beyond the very narrow limits set down by the Lex Julia.[58] According to an Athenian law, "if one man shall kill another . . . after catching him with his wife, or with his mother, or with a {292} sister, or with a daughter, or with a concubine whom he keeps to beget free-born children, he shall not go into exile for homicide on such account."[59] Ancient Teutonic law allowed a husband to kill both his unfaithful wife and the adulterer, if he caught them in the act;[60] according to the Laws of Alfred, an adulterer taken _flagrante delicto_ by the woman's lawful husband, father, brother, or son, might be killed without risk of blood-feud.[61] In the thirteenth century, however, there are already signs that, in England, the outraged husband who found his wife in the act of adultery might no longer slay the guilty pair or either of them, although he might emasculate the adulterer.[62] The present law treats the killing of an adulterer taken in the act in the same way as homicide committed in a quarrel; by slaying him, the husband is guilty of manslaughter only, though, if the killing were deliberate and took place in revenge after the fact, the crime would be murder. This seems to be the only case in English law in which provocation, other than by actual blows, is considered sufficient to reduce homicide to manslaughter, if the killing be effected by a deadly weapon.[63] There are corresponding provisions in other modern laws.[64] As a rule, flagrant adultery does not justify homicide, but serves as an extenuating circumstance.[65] But according to the French Code Pénal, "dans le cas d'adultère . . . le meurtre commis par l'époux sur son épouse, ainsi que sur le complice, à l'instant où il les surprend en flagrant délit dans la maison conjugale, est excusable."[66] And in Russia, though the law does not exempt from punishment a {293} husband who thus avenges himself, the jury show great indulgence to him.[67] [Footnote 51: Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 45; Stewart, in _Jour. As. Soc. Bengal_, xxiv. 628 (Kukis). Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 83; Hunter, _Annals of Rural Bengal_, iii. 76 (Kandhs). Anderson, _Mandalay to Momien_, p. 140 (Kakhyens). MacMahon, _Far Cathay and Farther India_, p. 273 (Indo-Burmese border tribes). Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, iii. 130. von Brenner, _Besuch bei den Kannibalen Sumatras_, pp. 211, 213. Modigliani, _Viaggio a Nías_, p. 495. Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 364. Dyveyrier, _Exploration du Sahara_, p. 429 (Touareg). Barrow, _Travels into the Interior of Southern Africa_, i. 207 (Kafirs). Among the Gaika tribe of the Kafirs, however, "a man is fined for murder, if he kills an adulterer or adulteress in the act, although he be the husband of the adulteress" (Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 111). Among the Wakamba, "if a man is caught in adultery at night, the husband has a right to kill him; but if the injured man thus takes the law into his own hands in the daytime, he is dealt with as a murderer" (Decle, _op. cit._ p. 487).] [Footnote 52: Herrera, _op. cit._ iv. 338.] [Footnote 53: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cclxxxv. p. 307.] [Footnote 54: Hodgson, _Miscellaneous Essays_, ii. 235, 236, 272.] [Footnote 55: Burton, _Sind Revisited_, ii. 54 _sq._] [Footnote 56: _Digesta_, xlviii. 5. 21 _sq._] [Footnote 57: Gellius, _Noctes Atticæ_, x. 23. 5. _Cf._ Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 625.] [Footnote 58: _Novellæ_, cxvii. 15.] [Footnote 59: Demosthenes, _Contra Aristocratem_, 53, p. 637.] [Footnote 60: Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 823. Nordström, _op. cit._ ii. 62 _sq._ Stemann, _op. cit._ p. 325.] [Footnote 61: _Laws of Alfred_, ii. 42.] [Footnote 62: Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 484. The same right is granted by a Spanish mediæval law to a father, or a husband, who finds a man having illegitimate sexual intercourse with his daughter, or wife (Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, p. 93).] [Footnote 63: Hale, _op. cit._ i. 486. Harris, _op. cit._ p. 145. Cherry, _Lectures on the Growth of Criminal Law_, p. 82 _sq._] [Footnote 64: Italian _Codice Penale_, art. 377. Spanish _Código Penal reformado_, art. 438. _Ottoman Penal Code_, art. 188.] [Footnote 65: Günther, _Idee der Wiedervergeltung_, iii. 233 _sqq._] [Footnote 66: _Code Pénal_, art. 324.] [Footnote 67: Foinitzki, _loc. cit._ p. 548.] Whilst the law referring to self-defence has gradually become more liberal, the law referring to self-redress in the case of adultery has thus, generally speaking, become more severe. The reason for this is obvious. A husband who slays his unfaithful wife or her accomplice does not defend, but avenges himself; and it is to be expected that a society in which punishment has only just succeeded revenge should still admit, or tolerate, revenge in extreme cases. The privilege granted to the outraged husband is not the sole survival of the old system of self-redress lingering on under the new conditions. According to Kafir custom or law, the relatives of a murdered man become liable only to a very light fine if they kill the murderer.[68] The ancient Teutons, at a time when their laws already prohibited private revenge, did not look upon an avenger of blood in the same light as an ordinary manslayer;[69] and even the Church recognised the distinction.[70] Some of the ancient Swedish laws entirely excused homicide committed in revenge immediately after the crime.[71] According to the Östgöta-Lag, an incendiary taken in flagrancy might be at once burnt in the fire,[72] and ancient Norwegian law permitted the slaying of a thief caught in the act.[73] In the Laws of Ine there is an indication that a thief's fate was at the discretion of his captor,[74] and a law of Æthelstan implies that the natural and proper course as to thieves was to kill them.[75] In the Laws of King Wihtræd it is said, "If any one slay a layman while thieving; let him lie without 'wergeld.'"[76] So also, according to Javanese law, if a thief be caught in the act it is lawful to put him to death.[77] For our present {294} purpose it is important to note that all such cases imply a recognition of the principle that an act committed on extreme provocation requires special consideration. To declare that an adulterer or adulteress caught in flagrancy, or a manifest thief, may be slain with impunity, is a concession to human passions, which are naturally more easily aroused by the sight of an act than by the mere knowledge of its commission. It was for a similar reason that the Law of the Twelve Tables punished _furtum manifestum_ much more heavily than _furtum nec manifestum_;[78] and that the Laws of Alfred imposed death as the penalty for fighting in the King's hall if the offender was taken in the act, whereas he was allowed to pay for himself if he escaped and was subsequently apprehended.[79] [Footnote 68: Maclean, _op. cit._ p. 143. _Cf._, however, _ibid._ p. 110.] [Footnote 69: Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 562. Stemann, _op. cit._ p. 582 _sq._] [Footnote 70: Wilda, _op. cit._ pp. 180, 565. Labbe-Mansi, _Sacrorum Conciliorum collectio_, xii. 289.] [Footnote 71: Nordström, _op. cit._ ii. 414 _sq._] [Footnote 72: _Ibid._ ii. 416.] [Footnote 73: Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 889.] [Footnote 74: _Laws of Ine_, 12. _Cf._ Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 62.] [Footnote 75: _Laws of Æthelstan_, iv. 4.] [Footnote 76: _Laws of Wihtræd_, 25.] [Footnote 77: Crawfurd, _op. cit._ iii. 115.] [Footnote 78: _Institutiones_, iv. 1. 5.] [Footnote 79: _Laws of Alfred_, ii. 7.] The difference between an injury which a person inflicts deliberately, in cold blood, and one which he inflicts in the heat of the moment, under the disturbance of great excitement caused by a wrong done to himself, has been widely recognised. There are instances reported of savages who distinguish between murder and manslaughter. And the laws of all civilised nations agree in regarding, on certain conditions, passion aroused by provocation as a mitigating circumstance at the commission of a crime. The Australian Narrinyeri, as we have seen, have a tribunal, called _tendi_, consisting of the elders of the clan, to which all offenders are brought for trial. "In case of the slaying by a person or persons of one clan of the member of another clan in time of peace, the fellow-clansmen of the murdered man will send to the friends of the murderer and invite them to bring him to trial before the united tendies. If, after full inquiry, he is found to have committed the crime, he will be punished according to the degree of guilt. If it were a case of murder, with malice aforethought, he would be handed over to his own clan to be put to death by spearing. If it should be what we call manslaughter, he would receive a good thrashing, or be banished from his clan, or compelled to go to his mother's {295} relations."[80] In the Pelew Islands, if two natives are quarrelling, and the one says to the other, "Your wife is bad," the insulted party is entitled to chastise the provoker with a stone, and is not held liable even if the latter should die in consequence.[81] The Eastern Central Africans "are aware of the difference between murder and homicide," even though the punishment of the two crimes is often the same.[82] Among the Kandhs only slight compensation is awarded "for wounds, however serious, given under circumstances of extreme provocation."[83] "_Valdeyak_, or manslaughter," says Georgi, "is not capital among the Tungusians, when it has been occasioned by some antecedent quarrel. The slayer is however whipped, and obliged to maintain the family of the deceased: he undergoes no reproaches on account of the affair; but on the contrary is considered as a brave and courageous man for it."[84] [Footnote 80: Taplin, 'Narrinyeri,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 34 _sq._] [Footnote 81: Kubary, 'Die Palau-Inseln,' in _Journal des Museum Godeffroy_, iv. 43 _sq._] [Footnote 82: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 172.] [Footnote 83: Macpherson, _op. cit._ p. 82.] [Footnote 84: Georgi, _Russia_, iii. 83. _Cf._ also Turner, 'Ethnology of the Ungava District,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xi. 186.] Among the ancient Peruvians, "when one killed another in a quarrel, the first thing enquired into was, who had been the aggressor; if the dead man, then the punishment was slight, at the will of the Inga; but if the surviver had given the provocation, his penalty was death, or at least perpetual banishment to the Andes, there to work in the Inga's fields of corn, which was like sending him to the galeys. A murderer was immediately publickly put to death, tho' he were a man of quality."[85] Among the Mayas of Yucatan and Nicaragua, in case of great provocation or absence of malice, homicide was atoned by the payment of a fine.[86] [Footnote 85: Herrera, _op. cit._ iv. 337 _sq._] [Footnote 86: Bancroft, _Native Races of the Pacific States_, ii. 658.] From certain passages in the Mosaic law the conclusion has been drawn that the ancient Hebrews did not consider it obligatory to inflict death upon him who had killed his neighbour in a fit of passion.[87] It is said that a man shall be put to death if he "come presumptuously upon his neighbour, to slay him with guile,"[88] or if he "hate his neighbour, and lie in wait for him, and rise up against him, and smite him mortally that he die."[89] On the other hand, he shall be allowed a resort to a city {296} of refuge if "he lie not in wait,"[90] or if he thrust his neighbour "suddenly without enmity."[91] [Footnote 87: Goitein, _Das Vergeltungsprincip im biblischen und taltmudischen Strafrecht_, p. 33 _sqq._] [Footnote 88: _Exodus_, xxi. 14.] [Footnote 89: _Deuteronomy_, xix. 11 _sq._] [Footnote 90: _Exodus_, xxi. 13.] [Footnote 91: _Numbers_, xxxv. 22, 25.] Professor Leist suggests that in ancient Greece, at a time when blood-revenge was a sacred duty in the case of premeditated murder, homicide committed without premeditation could be forgiven by the avenger of blood.[92] Plato, in his 'Laws,' draws a distinction between him "who treasures up his anger and avenges himself, not immediately and at the moment, but with insidious design, and after an interval," and him "who does not treasure up his anger, and takes vengeance on the instant, and without malice prepense." The deed of the latter, though not involuntary, "approaches to the involuntary," and should therefore be punished less severely than the crime perpetrated by him who has stored up his anger.[93] Aristotle, also, whilst denying that "acts done from anger or from desire are involuntary,"[94] maintains that "assaults committed in anger, are rightly decided not to be of malice aforethought, for they do not originate in the volition of the man who has been angered, but rather in that of the man who so angered him."[95] And he adds that "everyone will admit that he who does a disgraceful act, being at the same time free from desire, or at any rate feeling desire but slightly, is more to be blamed than is he who does such an act under the influence of a strong desire; and that he who, when not in a passion, smites his neighbour, is more to be blamed than is he who does so when in a passion."[96] Cicero likewise points out that "in every species of injustice it is a very material question whether it is committed through some agitation of passion, which commonly is short-lived and temporary, or from deliberate, prepense, malice; for those things which proceed from a short, sudden fit, are of slighter moment than those which are inflicted by forethought and preparation."[97] [Footnote 92: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, pp. 325, 352.] [Footnote 93: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 867.] [Footnote 94: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, iii. 1. 21.] [Footnote 95: _Ibid._ v. 8. 9.] [Footnote 96: _Ibid._ vii. 7. 3.] [Footnote 97: Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 8.] Of ancient Russian law M. Kovalewsky observes, "L'existence d'une excitation violente est prise en considération, par notre antique législation, qui déclare le crime accompli sous leur influence non imputable."[98] According to ancient Irish law, "homicide was divisible into the two classes of simple manslaughter and murder, the difference between which lay in the {297} existence or absence of malice aforethought, the fine in the latter being double what it was in the former case"; and for a wound which was inflicted inadvertently in lawful anger, the payment was made upon a diminished scale.[99] The ancient Teutons, also, held a wrong committed in sudden anger and on provocation to be less criminal than one committed with premeditation in cold blood;[100] this opinion seems partly to be at the bottom of the distinction which they made between open and secret homicide.[101] According to the law of the East Frisians, a man who kills another without premeditation may buy off his neck with money, not so he who commits a murder with malice aforethought.[102] It is curious that Bracton should take no notice of the different grades of evil intention which may accompany voluntary homicide, and that he should omit altogether the question of provocation;[103] Beaumanoir, the French jurist, who lived in the same age, mentions in his 'Coutumes du Beauvoisis' provocation as an extenuating circumstance,[104] and the same view was taken by the Church.[105] Coke, in his Third Institute--which may be regarded as the second source of the criminal law of England, Bracton being the first--gives an account of malice aforethought, and adds, "Some manslaughters be voluntary, and not of malice forethought, upon some sudden falling out. _Delinquens per iram provocatus puniri debet mitius_."[106] Hume says that in Scotland "the manslayer on suddenty was to have the benefit of the girth or sanctuary: he might flee to the church or other holy place; from which he might indeed be taken for trial, but to be returned thither, safe in life and limb, if his allegation of _chaude melle_ were proved."[107] All modern codes regard provocation under certain circumstances as a mitigating circumstance.[108] According to the criminal law of Montenegro, great provocation may even relieve a homicide of all guilt.[109] [Footnote 98: Kovalewsky, _Coutume contemporaine_, p. 291.] [Footnote 99: _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, iii. pp. xciii. cx.] [Footnote 100: Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 560 _sqq._, 701. Stemann, _op. cit._ p. 574. von Amira, in Paul's _Grundriss der germanischen Philologie_, ii. pt. ii. 174.] [Footnote 101: Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 569. von Amira, _loc. cit._ p. 173.] [Footnote 102: _Das Ostfriesische Land-Recht_, iii. 17 _sq._] [Footnote 103: _Cf._ Stephen, _op. cit._ iii. 33.] [Footnote 104: Beaumanoir, _Coutumes du Beauvoisis_, xxx. 101, vol. i. 454 _sq._] [Footnote 105: Gregory III. _Judicia congrua penitentibus_, 3 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ xii. 289).] [Footnote 106: Coke, _Third Institute_, p. 55.] [Footnote 107: Hume, _Commentaries on the Law of Scotland_, i. 365.] [Footnote 108: Günther, _op. cit._ iii. 256 _sqq._] [Footnote 109: _Ibid._ iii. 255 _sq._] It has been said that a man who acts under the influence of great passion has not, at the time, a full knowledge of the nature and quality of his act, and that {298} the clemency of the law is "a condescension to the frailty of the human frame, to the _furor brevis_, which, while the frenzy lasteth, rendereth the man deaf to the voice of reason."[110] But the main cause for passion extenuating his guilt is not the intellectual disability under which he acts, but the fact that he is carried away by an impulse which is too strong for his will to resist. This is implied in the provision of the law, that "provocation does not extenuate the guilt of homicide unless the person provoked is at the time when he does the act deprived of the power of self-control by the provocation which he has received."[111] [Footnote 110: Foster, _Report of Crown Cases_, p. 315.] [Footnote 111: Stephen, _Digest_, art. 246, p. 188.] That anger has been so generally recognised as an extenuation of guilt is largely due to the fact that the person who provokes it is himself blamable; both morality and law take into consideration the degree of provocation to which the agent was exposed. But, at the same time, the pressure of a non-volitional motive on the will may by itself be a sufficient ground for extenuation. In certain cases of mental disease a morbid impulse or idea may take such a despotic possession of the patient as to drive him to the infliction of an injury. He is mad, and yet he may be free from delusion and exhibit no marked derangement of intelligence. He may be possessed with an idea or impulse to kill somebody which he cannot resist. Or he may yield to a morbid impulse to steal or to set fire to houses or other property, without having any ill-feeling against the owner or any purpose to serve by what he does.[112] The deed to which the patient is driven is frequently one which he abhors, as when a mother kills the child which she loves most.[113] In such cases the agent is of course acquitted by the moral judge, and if he is condemned by the law of his country and its guardians, the reason for this can be nothing but ignorance. We must remember that this form of madness was hardly known even to medical {299} men till the end of the 18th century,[114] when Pinel, to his own surprise, discovered that there were "many madmen who at no period gave evidence of any lesion of the understanding, but who were under the dominion of instinctive and abstract fury, as if the affective faculties had alone sustained injury."[115] And there can be no doubt that the fourteen English judges who formulated the law on the criminal responsibility of the insane, made no reference to this _manie sans délire_ simply because they had not sufficient knowledge of the subject with which they had to deal.[116] [Footnote 112: Maudsley, _Responsibility in Mental Disease_, p. 133 _sqq._ von Krafft-Ebing, _Lehrbuch der gerichtlichen Psychopathologie_, p. 308 _sqq._] [Footnote 113: Gadelius, _Om tvångstankar_, p. 168 _sq._ Paulhan, _L'activité mentale_, p. 374.] [Footnote 114: Maudsley, _op. cit._ p. 141.] [Footnote 115: Pinel, _Traité médico-philosophique sur l'aliénation mentale_, p. 156: "Je ne fut pas peu surpris de voir plusieurs aliénés qui n'offroient à aucune époque aucune lésion de l'entendement, et qui étoient dominés par une sorte d'instinct de fureur, comme si les facultés affectives seules avoient été lésées."] [Footnote 116: Sir James Stephen (_Digest_, art. 28, p. 20 _sq._) thinks it _possible_ that, according to the present law of England, an act is not criminal if the person who does it is, at the time when it is done, prevented by any disease affecting his mind from controlling his own conduct, unless the absence of the power of control has been produced by his own default.] * * * * * That moral judgments are generally passed, in the first instance, with reference to acts immediately intended, and consider motives only in proportion as the judgment is influenced by reflection, holds good, not only of moral blame, but of moral praise. Every religion presents innumerable examples of people who do "good deeds" only in expectation of heavenly reward. This implies the assumption that the Deity judges upon actions without much regard to their motives; for if motives were duly considered, a man could not be held rewardable for an act which he performs solely for his own benefit. We are told that the homage which the Chinese "render the gods and goddesses believed to be concerned in the management of the affairs of this world is exceedingly formal, mechanical, and heartless," and that "there seems to be no special importance attached to purity of heart."[117] According to Caldwell, "the Hindu religionist enjoins the act alone, and affirms that motives have nothing to do with merit."[118] The argument, "Obey the law because it will {300} profit you to do so," constitutes the fundamental motive of Deuteronomy, as appears from phrases like these: "That it may go well with thee," "That thy days may be prolonged."[119] Speaking of the modern Egyptians, Lane observes that "from their own profession it appears that they are as much excited to the giving of alms by the expectation of enjoying corresponding rewards in heaven as by pity for the distresses of their fellow-creatures, or a disinterested wish to do the will of God."[120] Something similar may be said, not only of the "good deeds" of Muhammedans, but of those of many Christians. Did not Paley expressly define virtue as "the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness"?[121] [Footnote 117: Doolittle, _Social Life of the Chinese_, ii. 397.] [Footnote 118: Caldwell, _Tinnevelly Shanars_, p. 35.] [Footnote 119: _Cf._ Montefiore, _Hibbert Lectures_, p. 531.] [Footnote 120: Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, p. 293.] [Footnote 121: Paley, _Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy_, i. 7 (_Complete Works_, ii. 38).] Such views, however, cannot hold their ground against the verdict of the scrutinising moral consciousness. They have been repeatedly contradicted by the great teachers of morality. Confucius required an inward sincerity in all outward practice, and poured scorn on the pharisaism which contented itself with the cleansing of the outside of the cup and platter.[122] He said that, "in the rites of mourning, exceeding grief with deficient rites is better than little demonstration of grief with superabounding rites; and that in those of sacrifice, exceeding reverence with deficient rites is better than an excess of rites with but little reverence."[123] "Sacrifice is not a thing coming to a man from without; it issues from within him, and has its birth in his heart. When the heart is deeply moved, expression is given to it by ceremonies."[124] The virtuous man offers his sacrifices "without seeking for anything to be gained by them."[125] "The Master said, 'See what a man does. Mark his motives.'"[126] The popular Taouist work, called 'The Book of Secret Blessings,' inculcates the necessity {301} of purifying the heart as a preparation for all right-doing.[127] The religious legislator of Brahmanism, whilst assuming in accordance with the popular view that the fulfilment of religious duty will be always rewarded to some extent, whatever may be the motive, maintains that the man who fulfils his duties without regard to the rewards which follow the fulfilment, will enjoy the highest happiness in this life and eternal happiness hereafter.[128] According to the Buddhistic Dhammapada, "if a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him, as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage. . . . If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him."[129] In his description of the Buddhists of Mongolia, the Rev. James Gilmour observes:--"Mongol priests recognise the power of motive in estimating actions . . . . The attitude of the mind decides the nature of the act. He that offers a cup of cold water only, in a proper spirit, has presented a gift quite as acceptable as the most magnificent of donations."[130] With reference to the Hebrews, Mr. Montefiore says:--"If it were true that the later Judaism of the law laid exclusive stress in its moral teaching upon the mere outward act and not upon the spirit--upon doing rather than being, as we might nowadays express it--we should scarcely find that constant harping upon the heart as the source and seat of good and evil. What more legal book than Chronicles? Yet it is there that we find the earnest supplication for a heart directed towards God. . . . The eudæmonistic motive is strongest in Deuteronomy; it is weakest with the Rabbis."[131] Few sayings are quoted and applied more frequently in the Rabbinical literature than the adage which closes those tractates of the Mishna which deal with the sacrificial law:--"He that brings few offerings is as he that brings many; let his heart be directed {302} heavenward."[132] The same faults which Jesus chastises in the hypocritical Rabbis of his day are also chastised in the Talmud. It is said, "Before a man prays let him purify his heart,"[133] and, "Sin committed with a good motive is better than a precept fulfilled from a bad motive."[134] Rabbi Elazar says, "No charity is rewarded but according to the degree of benevolence in it, for it is said, 'Sow (a reward) for yourselves in giving alms as charity, you will reap according to the benevolence.'"[135] Nor is the doctrine which requires disinterested motives for the performance of good deeds foreign to Muhammedan moralists. "Whatever we give," says the author of the Akhlâk-i-Jelâli, "should be given in the fulness of zeal and good-will. . . . We should spend it simply to please God, and not mix the act with any meaner motive, lest thereby it be rendered null and void."[136] [Footnote 122: _Cf._ Legge, _Religions of China_, p. 261 _sq._; Girard de Rialle, _Mythologie comparée_, p. 214.] [Footnote 123: _Lî Kî_, ii. 1. 2. 27. _Cf._ _Lun Yü_, iii. 4. 3.] [Footnote 124: _Lî Kî_, xxii. 1.] [Footnote 125: _Ibid._ xxii. 2.] [Footnote 126: _Lun Yü_, ii. 10. 1 _sq._] [Footnote 127: Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 272.] [Footnote 128: Wheeler, _History of India_, ii. 478.] [Footnote 129: _Dhammapada_, 1 _sq._] [Footnote 130: Gilmour, _Among the Mongols_, p. 239.] [Footnote 131: Montefiore, _op. cit._ pp. 483, 533. _1 Chronicles_, xxii. 19; xxviii. 9; xxix. 18 _sq._ _2 Chronicles_, xi. 16; xv. 12; xvi. 9.] [Footnote 132: Montefiore, _op. cit._ p. 484.] [Footnote 133: _Ibid._ p. 174.] [Footnote 134: Nazir, fol. 23 B, quoted by Hershon, _Treasures of the Talmud_, p. 74.] [Footnote 135: Succah, fol. 49 B, _ibid._ p. 11.] [Footnote 136: Quoted by Ameer Ali, _Ethics of Islâm_, p. 38 _sq._] CHAPTER XII FORBEARANCES AND CARELESSNESS--CHARACTER THE observation has often been made that in early moral codes the so-called negative commandments, which tell people what they ought not to do, are much more prominent than the positive commandments, which tell them what they ought to do. The main reason for this is that negative commandments spring from the disapproval or acts, whereas positive commandments spring from the disapproval of forbearances or omissions, and that the indignation of men is much more easily aroused by action than by the absence of it. A person who commits a harmful deed is a more obvious cause of pain than a person who causes harm by doing nothing, and this naturally affects the question of guilt in the eyes of the multitude. A scrutinising judge of course carefully distinguishes between willfulness and negligence, whereas, to his mind, a forbearance is morally equivalent to an act. The unreflecting judge, on the other hand, is much less concerned with the question of wilfulness than with the distinction between acting and not-acting. Even the criminal laws of civilised nations take little cognisance of forbearances and omissions;[1] and one reason for this is that they evoke little public indignation. Even if it be admitted that the rules of beneficence, so far as details are concerned, must be left in a great measure to {304} the jurisdiction of private ethics, the limits of the law on this head, as Bentham remarks, seem "to be capable of being extended a good deal farther than they seem ever to have been extended hitherto." And he appropriately asks, "In cases where the person is in danger, why should it not be made the duty of every man to save another from mischief, when it can be done without prejudicing himself, as well as to abstain from bringing it on him?"[2] [Footnote 1: Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, ii. 113. Hepp, _Zurechnung auf dem Gebiete des Civilrechts_, p. 115 (Roman law).] [Footnote 2: Bentham, _Principles of Morals and Legislation_, p. 322 _sq._ To a certain extent, however, this has been admitted by legislators even in the Middle Ages. Frederick II.'s Sicilian Code imposed a penalty on persons who witnessed conflagrations or shipwrecks without helping the victims, and a fine of four augustales on anyone who, hearing the shrieks of an assaulted woman, did not hurry to her rescue (_Constitutiones Napolitana sive Siculæ_, i. 28, 22 [Lindenbrog, _Codex legum antiquarum_, pp. 715, 712]). Bracton says (_De Legibus et Consuetudinibus Angliæ_, fol. 121, vol. ii. 280 _sq._) that he who could rescue a man from death and did not do it, ought not to be exempt from punishment. It was a principle of the Canon law that he who does not prevent the infliction of an injury upon his neighbour when it lies in his power to do so, is to be regarded as an accomplice in the offence (Geyer, _Lehre von der Nothwehr_, p. 74. Gregory IX. _Decretales_, v. 12, 6. 2: "Qui potuit hominem liberare a morte, et non liberavit, eum occidit").] The more scrutinising the moral consciousness, the greater the importance which it attaches to positive commandments. This is well illustrated by a comparison between Old and New Testament morality. As Professor Seeley observes,[3] "the old legal formula began 'thou shalt not,' the new begins with 'thou shalt.' The young man who had kept the whole law--that is, who had refrained from a number of actions--is commanded to do something, to sell his goods and feed the poor. Condemnation was passed under the Mosaic law upon him who had sinned, who had done something forbidden--the soul that sinneth shall die; Christ's condemnation is pronounced upon those who had not done good--'I was an hungered and ye gave me no meat.' The sinner whom Christ habitually denounces is he who has done nothing." This characteristic is repeatedly manifested in His parables--as in the case of the priest and Levite who passed by on the other side; in the case of Dives, of whom no ill is recorded except that a beggar lay at his {305} gate full of sores and yet no man gave unto him; in the case of the servant who hid in a napkin the talent committed to him. However, to say that the new morality involved the discovery of "a new continent in the moral globe,"[4] is obviously an exaggeration. The customs of all nations contain not only prohibitions, but positive injunctions as well. To be generous to friends, charitable to the needy, hospitable to strangers, are rules which, as will be seen, may be traced back to the lowest stages of savagery known to us. The difference in question is only one of degree. Of the Bangerang tribe in Victoria Mr. Curr observes:--"Aboriginal restraints were, in the majority of cases, though not altogether, of a negative character; an individual might not do this, and might not eat that, and might not say the other. What he should do under any circumstances, or that he should do anything, were matters with which custom interfered less frequently."[5] [Footnote 3: Seeley, _Ecce Homo_, p. 176.] [Footnote 4: _Ibid._ p. 179.] [Footnote 5: Curr, _Recollections of Squatting in Victoria_, p. 264 _sq._] Whilst the unreflecting mind has a tendency to overlook or underrate the guilt of a person who, whether wilfully or by negligence, causes harm by doing nothing, it is on the other hand, apt to exaggerate the guilt of a person who, not wilfully but out of heedlessness or rashness, causes harm by a positive act. In reality the latter person is blamable not for what he did, but for what he omitted to do, for want of due attention, for not thinking of the probable consequences of his act or for insufficient advertence to them. But the superficial judge largely measures the agent's guilt by the actual harm done, and in many cases even attributes to carelessness what was due to sheer misfortune. As Sir F. Pollock and Prof. Maitland rightly observe, it is not true that barbarians will not trace the chain of causation beyond its nearest link--that, for example, they will not impute one man's death to another unless that other has struck a blow which laid a corpse at his feet.[6] {306} Among the Wanyoro, should a girl die in childbirth, the seducer is also doomed to die, unless he ransom himself by payment of some cows.[7] Among the Wakamba, if a man is the second time guilty of manslaughter in a state of drunkenness, the elders may either sentence him to death, "or make the seller of drink pay compensation to the family of the victim."[8] According to the native code of Malacca, if vicious buffaloes or cattle "be tied in the highway, where people are in the habit of passing and repassing, and gore or wound any person, the owner shall be fined one tahil and one paha, and pay the expense necessary for the cure of the wounded individual. Should he be gored to death, then the owner shall be fined according to the Diyat, because the owner is criminal in having tied the animal in an improper place."[9] In the Laws of Alfred it is said that, if a man have a spear over his shoulder and anybody stake himself on it, the man with the spear has to pay the _wer_.[10] According to an ancient custom, in vogue in England as late as the thirteenth century, one who was accused of homicide was, before going to the wager of battle, expected to swear that he had done nothing through which the dead man had become "further from life and nearer to death";[11] and damages which the modern English lawyer would without hesitation describe as "too remote" were not too remote for the author of the so-called 'Laws of Henry I.'[12] "At your request I accompany you when you are about your own affairs; my enemies fall upon and kill me; you must pay for my death.[13] You take me to see a wild beast show or that interesting spectacle a madman; beast or madman kills me; you must pay. You hang up your sword; some one else knocks it down so that it cuts me; you must pay."[14] In all these cases you did something that helped to bring {307} about death or wound, and you are consequently held responsible for the mishap. [Footnote 6: Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the Time of Edward I._ ii. 470.] [Footnote 7: _Emin Pasha in Central Africa_, p. 83.] [Footnote 8: Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, p. 487.] [Footnote 9: Newbold, _British Settlements in the Straits of Malacca_, ii. 256 _sq._] [Footnote 10: _Laws of Alfred_, 36.] [Footnote 11: _Leges Henrici I._ xc. 11. Bracton, _op. cit._ fol. 141 b, vol. ii. 440 _sq._] [Footnote 12: Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 470 _sq._] [Footnote 13: _Leges Henrici I._ lxxxviii. 9.] [Footnote 14: _Ibid._ xc. 11. Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 471.] But though early custom and law may be anxious enough to trace an event to its source, they easily fail to distinguish between external and internal causes, to discover where there is guilt or not, and, in case of carelessness, to determine the magnitude of the offender's guilt. Ancient Teutonic law, as we have seen, distinguished between _vili_ and _vadhi_. It punished the involuntary manslayer less heavily than the voluntary one, but it punished him all the same; and whether the unintended deed was combined with heedlessness or was purely accidental was a question with which the law did not at all concern itself.[15] According to the Laws of [Hv]ammurabi, "if the doctor has treated a gentleman for a severe wound with a lancet of bronze, and has caused the gentleman to die, or has opened an abscess of the eye for a gentleman with the bronze lancet and has caused the loss of the gentleman's eye, one shall cut off his hands."[16] In the Mosaic law distinction was made between presence and absence of enmity in the manslayer, but the difference between carelessness and misfortune was not considered,[17] except when the instrument of death was a goring ox.[18] However, in this, as in many other respects, great progress was made by the later legislation of the Jews. The Rabbis took considerable pains to distinguish between purely accidental homicide and homicide due to carelessness; the former they exempted from all punishment, whereas the latter incurred the punishment of confinement to a city of refuge.[19] They even distinguished between cases in which the death was exclusively due to the carelessness of the agent, and cases in which the deceased contributed to it by some blamable act of his own. A father or a teacher {308} who in punishing his son or pupil unintentionally caused his death, and a person who by order of the Sanhedrim inflicted corporal punishment on a culprit and in doing so happened by mistake to kill him--such persons were not confined in a city of refuge, but escaped punishment altogether.[20] Whatever else may be said of these provisions, they certainly show remarkable discernment in a point where legislators of a ruder type have been very indiscriminate. In the oldest English records we see no attempt to distinguish cases in which the dead man himself was reprehensible from others in which no fault could be imputed to him, and we find that many horses and boats bore the guilt which should have been ascribed to beer.[21] When a drunken carter was crushed beneath the wheel of his cart, the cart, the cask of wine which was in it, and the oxen that were drawing it, were all deodand.[22] According to the customary law of the Ossetes, if a stolen gun went off in the hands of the thief who was carrying it away, and killed him, the thief's kin had a just feud against the owner of the gun.[23] [Footnote 15: Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 578. Geyer, _op. cit._ p. 88. Brunner, _Forschungen zur Geschichte des deutschen und französischen Rechtes_, p. 499.] [Footnote 16: _Laws of [Hv]ammurabi_, 218.] [Footnote 17: _Numbers_, xxxv. 16 _sqq._ _Deuteronomy_, xix. 4 _sqq._] [Footnote 18: _Exodus_, xxi. 28-32, 35 _sq._ _Cf._ _Laws of [Hv]ammurabi_, 250 _sqq._] [Footnote 19: Rabbinowicz, _Législation criminelle du Talmud_, p. 173 _sqq._] [Footnote 20: _Ibid._ p. 174. Benny, _Criminal Code of the Jews according to the Talmud Massecheth Synhedrin_, p. 115 _sq._] [Footnote 21: Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 474, n. 4.] [Footnote 22: _Three Early Assize Rolls for the County of Northumberland_, p. 96 _sq._] [Footnote 23: Kovalewsky, _Coutume contemporaine_, p. 295.] Modern laws generally hold a person liable for harm caused by him through want of ordinary care and foresight, and it depends on the nature of the case whether he will have to pay damages or to suffer punishment. Yet, as we have previously noticed, his punishment is determined not only by the degree of carelessness of which he was guilty or the danger to which he exposed his fellow-men, but, largely, by the harm resulting; whereas, if nobody happens to be hurt, little notice is taken of his fault. To such an extent are men's judgments in these matters influenced by external facts, that even nowadays many among ourselves will hold a person answerable for all the damage which directly ensues from an act of his, even though no foresight could have reasonably been expected {309} to look out for it.[24] Not long ago there were plausible, if insufficient, grounds adduced for asserting that in English courts a plea that there was neither negligence nor an intent to do harm was no answer to an action which charged the defendant with having hurt the plaintiff's body.[25] And of late years attacks have been made by continental jurists upon the Roman principle that there is no liability where there is no fault[26]--a principle which, more or less modified, has been adopted by modern laws.[27] Although they take pains to point out the difference between punishment and indemnification, the very language they use indicates the quasi-ethical basis on which their theory rests. It is only just, they say, that he who has caused the evil should compensate for it, since the injured party "is still much more innocent than he." And the "sense of justice" is appealed to for compelling a man who faints in the street and in the fall happens to break some fragile articles to indemnify the owner for his loss.[28] Thus, whilst loss from accident is generally allowed to lie where it falls, an exception is made where the instrument of misfortune is a human being. This is a most unreasonable exception, but one not difficult to explain. People are ready to blame a person who commits a harmful deed, whether he deserves blame or not; at the same time they are apt to overlook the indirect and more remote cause of the harm which lies in the sufferer's own conduct. Hence the liability, if not the guilt, is laid on him who is a cause of pain by _doing_ something, even though it be by merely spasmodic contractions of his muscles; whereas the other party, who only exposed himself to the risk of being hurt, is regarded as the "more innocent." [Footnote 24: Holmes, _Common Law_, p. 80.] [Footnote 25: Stanley _v._ Powell, in _Law Reports, Queen's Bench Division_, 1891, i. 86 _sqq._ Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 475 _sq._] [Footnote 26: von Jhering, _Schuldmoment im römischen Privatrecht_, _passim_, especially pp. 20 _sqq._, 40 _sqq._ Hepp, _op. cit._ p. 106.] [Footnote 27: Forsman, _Bidrag till läran om skadestånd i brottmål_, p. 158 _sq._ Pollock, _Law of Torts_, p. 129 _sqq._] [Footnote 28: Thon, _Rechtsnorm und subjectives Recht_, p. 106, n. 71.] Whilst culpability or quasi-culpability is thus imputed to the innocent committer of a harmful deed, little or no {310} censure is passed on him whose want of foresight or want of self-restraint is productive of suffering, if only the effect is sufficiently remote. This is exemplified by the frivolous leniency with which drunkenness, not long ago, was looked upon in many civilised countries, and by the criminal indifference with which law and public opinion still regard the production of offspring that are almost with certainty doomed to misery on account of the vices, poverty, or bodily infirmities of the parents. To interfere here, it is argued, would be to intrude upon the individual's right of freedom, or to meddle with the affairs of Providence. But men are not, generally, allowed to do mischief simply in order to gratify their own appetites, and Providence might equally well be called in to answer for any other kind of human shortcoming. I presume the true explanation to be, that in this, as in many other kindred cases, the cause and effect are so distant from each other that the near-sighted eye does not distinctly perceive the connection between them. Indeed, there is hardly any other point in which the moral consciousness of civilised men still stands in greater need of intellectual training than in its judgments on cases which display want of care or foresight. And there is no safer measure of the moral enlightenment of a man than the scrupulosity with which he considers the possible consequences of acts, and the number of positive commandments which are contained in his catalogue of duties. * * * * * That moral indignation and moral approval are from the very beginning felt, not with reference to certain modes of conduct _per se_, but with reference to persons on account of their conduct, is obvious from the intrinsic nature of those emotions. As we noticed before, they derive one of their most essential characteristics from their being directed against sensitive agents. Hence they may as naturally give rise to judgments on human character as to judgments on human conduct. And even when a moral judgment immediately refers to a distinct act, it takes notice of the {311} agent's will as a whole. The forgiveness which follows sincere repentance, and the distinction made between injuries committed deliberately in cold blood and injuries committed in the heat of passion, indicate that men, in their moral judgments, are apt to consider something more than a momentary volition. The same tendency is at the bottom of the common practice of punishing a second and third offence more severely than the first. Among the Masai, "if a man is convicted of a particular crime several times, or constitutes himself a public nuisance, he is proclaimed an outlaw, his property is confiscated, and he is beaten away from any settlement or village he goes near. Unless an outlaw can find friends among non-Masai tribes, he dies of starvation."[29] Among the Wakamba "a murder is judged by the elders; if it is a man's first offence of that kind he is punished by a fine. . . . But a man convicted for the second time of murder is killed at once, everyone setting on him the moment judgment is delivered. . . . For rape a first offender is flogged, and has to pay a fine of one cow; for the second offence he is killed."[30] Among the Wyandots of North America, "a woman guilty of adultery, for the first offence is punished by having her hair cropped; for repeated offences her left ear is cut off."[31] The laws of the Incas, also, were more lenient to a first offence than to a second;[32] and in the kingdom of Mechoacan, whilst the first theft was not severely punished, the thief who repeated his crime was thrown down a precipice and his carcass was left to the birds of prey.[33] Among the Aleuts, for the first theft "corporal punishment was inflicted; for the second offence of the kind some fingers of the right hand were cut off; for the third, the left hand and sometimes the lips were amputated; and for the fourth offence the punishment was death." Other crimes, again, "were punished at first by reprimand by the chief before the community, and upon repetition the offender was bound and kept in such a condition for some time."[34] The Kamchadales "burn the hands of people who have been frequently caught in theft, but for the first offence the thief must restore what he hath stolen, and live alone {312} in solitude, without expecting any assistance from others."[35] Among the Ainu, "for breaking into the storehouse or dwelling of another, a very sound beating was administered for the first offence; for the second, sometimes the nose was cut off, sometimes the ears, and in some cases both the nose and ears were forfeited. . . . Persons who had committed such a crime twice were driven bag and baggage out of the home and village to which they belonged."[36] Among the Murray Islanders repetition of an offence such as murder or robbery generally incurred a penalty of death, whereas the first offence was punished only by a fine.[37] According to the Javanese Níti Sástra, if a man violates the law, he may for the first transgression be punished by a pecuniary fine, for the second by a punishment affecting his person, but for the third he may be punished with death.[38] The Penal Code of the Chinese prescribes that, for the first offence, individuals convicted of being concerned in a theft shall be branded in the lower part of the left arm with two words signifying thief, that for the second offence they shall be branded again with the same words in the lower part of the right arm, but that for the third offence they shall suffer death by being strangled, after remaining the usual period in confinement.[39] In Nepal, in the case of theft or petty burglary, for the first offence one hand is cut off, for the second the other hand, whilst the third offence is capital.[40] Herodotus mentions with approval that in ancient Persia not even the king was allowed to put any one to death for a single crime.[41] According to the Vendîdâd, the gravity of a crime does not depend only on the gravity of the deed, but on its frequency as well.[42] In ancient Rome the repetition of a crime aggravated its punishment.[43] According to early English law, the punishment upon a second conviction for nearly every offence was death or mutilation.[44] In modern European legislation, the principle that the criminality of certain crimes is increased by their repetition is generally recognised. [Footnote 29: Hinde, _The Last of the Masai_, p. 108.] [Footnote 30: Decle, _op. cit._ p. 487.] [Footnote 31: Powell, 'Wyandot Government,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ i. 66.] [Footnote 32: Herrera, _General History of the West Indies_, iv. 338 _sqq._] [Footnote 33: _Ibid._ iii. 255.] [Footnote 34: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, 'Report on Alaska,' in _Tenth Census of the United States_, p. 152.] [Footnote 35: Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, p. 179.] [Footnote 36: Batchelor, _Ainu and their Folk-lore_, p. 285.] [Footnote 37: Hunt, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxviii. 6.] [Footnote 38: Raffles, _History of Java_, i. 262.] [Footnote 39: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cclxix. p. 285.] [Footnote 40: Hodgson, _Miscellaneous Essays_, ii. 235.] [Footnote 41: Herodotus, i. 137.] [Footnote 42: _Vendîdâd_, iv. 17 _sqq._] [Footnote 43: Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 1044.] [Footnote 44: Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 58.] The more a moral judgment is influenced by reflection, the more it scrutinises the character which manifests itself {313} in that individual piece of conduct by which the judgment is occasioned. But however superficial it be, it always refers to a will conceived of as a continuous entity, to a person regarded as a cause of pleasure or pain. This holds good of savage and civilised men alike. Even tame animals, in response to a hurt or a benefit, behave differently towards different persons according to their previous experience of the agent. CHAPTER XIII WHY MORAL JUDGMENTS ARE PASSED ON CONDUCT AND CHARACTER--MORAL VALUATION AND FREE-WILL WE have examined the general nature of the subjects of moral judgments from an evolutionary point of view. We have seen that such judgments are essentially passed on conduct and character, and that allowance is made for the various elements of which conduct and character are composed in proportion as the moral judgment is scrutinising and enlightened. But an important question still calls for an answer, the question, Why is this so? We cannot content ourselves with the bare fact that nothing but the will is morally good or bad. We must try to explain it. After what has been said above the explanation is not far to seek. Moral judgments are passed on conduct and character, because such judgments spring from moral emotions; because the moral emotions are retributive emotions; because a retributive emotion is a reactive attitude of mind, either kindly or hostile, towards a living being (or something looked upon in the light of a living being), regarded as a cause of pleasure or as a cause of pain; and because a living being is regarded as a true cause of pleasure or pain only in so far as this feeling is assumed to be caused by its will. The correctness of this explanation I consider to be proved by the fact that not only moral emotions, but non-moral retributive emotions as well, are felt with reference to phenomena {315} exactly similar in nature to those on which moral judgments are passed. Like moral indignation, the emotion of revenge can be felt only towards a sentient being, or towards something which is believed to be sentient. We may be angry with inanimate things for a moment, but such anger cannot last; it disappears as soon as we reflect that the thing in question is incapable of feeling pain. Even a dog which, in playing with another dog, hurts itself, for instance, by running into a tree, changes its angry attitude immediately it notices the real nature of that which caused it pain.[1] [Footnote 1: Hiram Stanley, _Studies in the Evolutionary Psychology of Feeling_, p. 154 _sq._] Equivalent to injuries resulting from inanimate things are injuries resulting accidentally from animate beings. If my arm or my foot gives a push to my neighbour, and he is convinced that the push was neither intended nor foreseen nor due to any carelessness whatever on my part, surely he cannot feel angry with me. Why not? Professor Bain answers this question as follows:--"Aware that absolute inviolability is impossible in this world, and that we are all exposed by turns to accidental injuries from our fellows, we have our minds disciplined to let unintended evil go by without satisfaction of inflicting some counter evil upon the offender."[2] Perhaps another answer would be that an accidental injury in no way affects the "self-feeling" of the sufferer. But neither of these explanations goes to the root of the question. Let us once more remember that even a dog distinguishes between being stumbled over and being kicked; and this can neither be the result of discipline, nor have anything to do with the feeling of self-regarding pride.[3] The reason is that the dog scents an enemy in the person who kicks him, but not in the one who stumbles. My neighbour, more clearly still, makes a distinction between a part of my body and myself as a {316} volitional being, and finds that _I_ am no proper object of resentment when the cause of the hurt was merely my arm or my foot. An event is attributed to _me_ as its cause only in proportion as it is considered to have been brought about by my will; and _I_, regarded as a volitional and sensitive entity, can be a proper object of resentment only as a cause of pain. [Footnote 2: Bain, _Emotions and the Will_, p. 185.] [Footnote 3: The Koussa Kafirs, according to Lichtenstein (_Travels in Southern Africa_, i. 254), expect a similar discrimination from the elephant; for "if an elephant is killed . . . they seek to exculpate themselves towards the dead animal, by declaring to him solemnly, that the thing happened entirely by accident, not by design."] We can hardly feel disposed to resent injuries inflicted upon us by animals, little children, or madmen, when we recognise their inability to judge of the nature of their acts. They are not the real causes of the mischief resulting from their deeds, since they neither intended nor foresaw nor could have foreseen it. "Why," says the Stoic, "do you bear with the delirium of a sick man, or the ravings of a madman, or the impudent blows of a child? Because, of course, they evidently do not know what they are doing. . . . . Would anyone think himself to be in his perfect mind if he were to return kicks to a mule or bites to a dog?"[4] Hartley observes, "As we improve in observation and experience, and in the faculty of analysing the actions of animals, we perceive that brutes and children, and even adults in certain circumstances, have little or no share in the actions referred to them."[5] [Footnote 4: Seneca, _De ira_, iii. 26 _sq._] [Footnote 5: Hartley, _Observations on Man_, i. 493.] Deliberate resentment considers the motives of acts. Suppose that a man tells us an untruth. Our feelings towards him are not the same if he did it in order to save our life as if he did it for his own benefit. Moreover, our anger abates, or ceases altogether, if we find that he who injured us acted under compulsion, or under the influence or a non-volitional impulse, too strong for any ordinary man to resist. Then, the main cause or the injury was not his will, conceived as a continuous entity. It yielded to the will of somebody else, reluctantly, as it were out of necessity, or to a powerful conation which forms no part of his real self. He was merely an instrument in another's hands, or he was "beside himself," "beyond himself," "out of his {317} mind." When we are angry, says Montaigne, "it is passion that speaks, and not we."[6] The religious psychology of the ancient Greeks ascribed acts committed upon sudden excitement of mind to the _Ate_ which bewilders the mind and betrays the man into deeds which, in his sober senses, he is heartily sorry for. Hence the Ate has in its train the _Litae_--the humble prayers of repentance, which must make good, before gods and men, whatever has been done amiss.[7] The Vedic singer apologises, "It is not our own will, Varuna, that leads us astray, but some seduction--wine, anger, dice, and our folly."[8] In the Andaman Islands violent outbreaks of ill-temper or resentment are looked upon as the result of a temporary "possession," and the victim is, for the time being, considered unaccountable for his actions.[9] Madness, as we have seen, is frequently attributed to demoniacal possession. In ancient Ireland, again, it was believed to be often brought on by malignant magical agency, usually the work of some druid, hence in the Glosses to the Senchus Mór a madman is repeatedly described as one "upon whom the magic wisp has been thrown."[10] What a person does in madness is not an act committed by _him_. "Was 't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never Hamlet: If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away, And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes, Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it. Who does it, then? His madness: if 't be so, Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd; His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy."[11] [Footnote 6: Montaigne, _Essais_, ii. 31 (_[OE]uvres_, p. 396).] [Footnote 7: _Iliad_, ix. 505 _sqq._ Müller, _Dissertations on the Eumenides_, p. 108.] [Footnote 8: _Rig-Veda_, vii. 86. 6.] [Footnote 9: Man, in _Jour. Anthrop. Inst._ xii. 111.] [Footnote 10: Joyce, _Social History of Ancient Ireland_, i. 224.] [Footnote 11: Shakespeare, _Hamlet_, v. 2.] We resent not only acts and volitions, but also omissions, though generally less severely; and when a hurt is attributed to want of foresight, our resentment is, _ceteris paribus_, proportionate to the degree of carelessness {318} which we lay to the offender's charge. A person appears to us as the cause of an injury which we think he could have prevented by his will. But a hurt resulting from carelessness is not to the same extent as an intentional injury caused by the will. And the less foresight could have been expected in a given case, the smaller share has the will in the production of the event. Our resentment is increased by a repetition of the injury, and reaches its height when we find that our adversary nourishes habitual ill-will towards us. On the other hand, as we have noticed in a previous chapter,[12] the injured party is not deaf to the prayer for forgiveness which springs from genuine repentance. Like moral indignation, non-moral resentment takes into consideration the character of the injurer. [Footnote 12: _Supra_, ch. iii.] Passing to the emotion of gratitude, we find a similar resemblance between the phenomena which give rise to this emotion and those which call forth moral approval. We may feel some kind of retributive affection for inanimate objects which have given us pleasure; "a man grows fond of a snuff-box, of a pen-knife, of a staff which he has long made use of, and conceives something like a real love and affection for them."[13] But gratitude, involving a desire to please the benefactor, can reasonably be felt towards such objects only as are themselves capable of feeling pleasure. Moreover, on due deliberation we do not feel grateful to a person who benefits us by pure accident. Since gratitude is directed towards the assumed cause of pleasure, and since a person is regarded as a cause only in his capacity of a volitional being, gratitude presupposes that the pleasure shall be due to his will. For the same reason motives are also taken into consideration by the benefited party. As Hutcheson observes, "bounty from a donor apprehended as morally evil, or extorted by force, or conferred with some view of self-interest, will not procure real good-will; nay, it may raise indignation."[14] {319} Like moral approval, gratitude may be called forth not only by acts and volitions, but by absence of volitions, in so far as this absence is traceable to a good disposition of will. And, like the moral judge, the grateful man is, in his retributive feeling, influenced by the notion he forms of the benefactor's character. [Footnote 13: Adam Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 136.] [Footnote 14: Hutcheson, _Inquiry concerning Moral Good and Evil_, p. 157.] The cognitions by which non-moral resentment and gratitude are determined are thus, as regards their general nature, precisely similar to those which determine moral indignation and approval. Whether moral or non-moral, a retributive emotion is essentially directed towards a sensitive and volitional entity, or self, conceived of as the cause of pleasure or the cause of pain. This solves a problem which necessarily baffles solution in the hands of those who fail to recognise the emotional origin of moral judgments, and which, when considered at all, has, I think, never been fully understood by those who have essayed it. It has been argued, for instance, that moral praise and blame are not applied to inanimate things and those who commit involuntary deeds, because they are administered only "where they are capable of producing some effect";[15] that moral judgment is concerned with the question of compulsion, because "only when a man acts morally of his own free will is society sure of him";[16] that we do not regard a lunatic as responsible, because we know that "his mind is so diseased that it is impossible by moral reprobation alone to change his character so that it maybe subsequently relied upon."[17] The bestowal of moral praise or blame on such or such an object is thus attributed to utilitarian calculation;[18] whereas in reality it is determined by the nature of the moral emotion which lies at the bottom of the judgment. And, as Stuart Mill observes (though he never seems to have realised the full import of his objection), whilst we may administer praise and blame with the express design of influencing conduct, "no anticipation of salutary effects {320} from our feeling will ever avail to give us the feeling itself."[19] [Footnote 15: James Mill, _Fragment on Mackintosh_, p. 370.] [Footnote 16: Ziegler, _Social Ethics_, p. 56 _sq._] [Footnote 17: Clifford, _Lectures and Essays_, p. 296.] [Footnote 18: See also James Mill, _op. cit._ pp. 261, 262, 375.] [Footnote 19: Stuart Mill, in a note to James Mill's _Analysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind_, ii. 323.] * * * * * The nature of the moral emotions also gives us the key to another important problem--a problem which has called forth endless controversies--namely, the co-existence of moral responsibility with the general law of cause and effect. It has been argued that responsibility, and moral judgments generally, are inconsistent with the notion that the human will is determined by causes; that "either free-will is a fact, or moral judgment a delusion." The argument has been well summed up by Sir Leslie Stephen as follows:--"Moral responsibility, it is said, implies freedom. A man is only responsible for that which he causes. Now the _causa causæ_ is also the _causa causati_. If I am caused as well as cause, the cause of me is the cause of my conduct; I am only a passive link in the chain which transmits the force. Thus, as each individual is the product of something external to himself, his responsibility is really shifted to that something. The universe or the first cause is alone responsible, and since it is responsible to itself alone, responsibility becomes a mere illusion."[20] We are told that, if determinism were true, human beings would be no more proper subjects of moral valuation than are inanimate things; that the application of moral praise and blame would be "in itself as absurd as to applaud the sunrise or be angry at the rain";[21] that the only admiration which the virtuous man might deserve would be the kind of admiration "which we justly accord to a well-made machine."[22] Nor are these inferences from the doctrine of determinism only weapons forged by its opponents; they are shared by many of its own adherents. Richard Owen and his followers maintained that, since a man's character is made _for_ him, not _by_ him, there is no justice in punishing {321} him for what he cannot help.[23] To Stuart Mill responsibility simply means liability to punishment, inflicted for a utilitarian purpose.[24] So also Prof. Sidgwick--whose attitude towards the free-will theory is that of a sceptic--argues that the common retributive view of punishment, and the ordinary notions of "merit," "demerit," and "responsibility," involve the assumption that the will is free, and that these terms, if used at all, have to be used in new significations. "If the wrong act," he says, "and the bad qualities of character manifested in it, are conceived as the necessary effects of causes antecedent or external to the existence of the agent, the moral responsibility--in the ordinary sense--for the mischief caused by them can no longer rest on him. At the same time, the Determinist can give to the terms 'ill-desert' and 'responsibility' a signification which is not only clear and definite, but, from an utilitarian point of view, the only suitable meaning. In this view, if I affirm that A is responsible for a harmful act, I mean that it is right to punish him for it; primarily, in order that the fear of punishment may prevent him and others from committing similar acts in future."[25] [Footnote 20: Leslie Stephen, _Science of Ethics_, p. 285.] [Footnote 21: Martineau, _Types of Ethical Theory_, ii. 41 _sq._] [Footnote 22: Balfour, _Foundations of Belief_, p. 25.] [Footnote 23: Stuart Mill, _Examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy_, p. 506.] [Footnote 24: _Ibid._ p. 506 _sqq._] [Footnote 25: Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_, p. 71 _sq._] If these conclusions are correct it is obvious that, whether the infliction of punishment be justifiable or not, the _feeling_ of moral indignation or moral approval is, from the deterministic point of view, absurd. And yet, as a matter of fact, these emotions are felt by determinists and libertarians alike. Apparently, they are not in the least affected by the notion that the human will is subject to the general law of cause and effect. Emotions are always determined by specific cognitions, and last only as long as the influence of those cognitions lasts. It makes me sorry to hear that some evil has befallen a friend; but my sorrow disappears at once when I find that the rumour was false. I get angry with a person who hurts me; but my anger subsides as soon as I recognise that the hurt was purely accidental. My indignation is aroused by an {322} atrocious crime; but it ceases entirely when I hear that the agent was mad. On the other hand, however convinced I am that a person's conduct and character are in every detail a product of causes, that does not prevent me from feeling towards him retributive emotions--either anger or gratitude, or moral resentment or approval. Hence I conclude that a retributive emotion is not essentially determined by the cognition of free-will. I hold that Spinoza is mistaken in his assumption that men feel more love or hatred towards one another than towards anything else, because they think themselves to be free.[26] And I attribute the conception that moral valuation is inconsistent with determinism either to a failure to recognise the emotional origin of moral judgments or to insufficient insight into the true nature of the moral emotions. At the same time it seems easy to explain the fallacy which lies at the bottom of that conception. [Footnote 26: Spinoza, _Ethica_, iii. 49, Note.] We have seen that the object of moral approval and disapproval is the will, and that a person's responsibility is lessened in proportion as his will is exposed to the pressure of non-volitional conations. Full responsibility thus presupposes freedom from such pressure, and, particularly, freedom from external compulsion. Hence the inference that it also presupposes freedom from causation, and that complete determination involves complete irresponsibility. Compulsion is confounded with causation; and this confusion is due to the fact that the cause which determines the will is actually looked upon in the light of a constraining power outside the will. The popular mind has a strong belief in the law of cause and effect. When reflecting on the matter, it admits that everything which happens in this world has a cause; and if the natural cause is hidden, it readily calls in a supernatural cause to account for the event. Now, in the case of human volitions the chain of causation is often particularly obscure; as Spinoza said, whilst men are conscious of their volitions and desires, they "never even {323} dream, in their ignorance, of the causes which have disposed them so to wish and desire."[27] Hence, when in a philosophic mood, they are liable to attribute their acts to the influence of an external power ruling over human affairs, a god or an all-powerful fate. No doubt, Providence and Fate[28] may effect their purposes without the will of man as their tool; what happens "by chance," being frequently no less wonderful than any decree of a human will, may likewise be traced to a supernatural cause. But, on the other hand, the fact that the deeds of men are generally preceded by volitions, is so obvious that it could not escape even the simplest mind--indeed, so strongly are primitive men impressed by this fact that they are apt to attribute every event to a will. Acknowledging, then, the connection between volition and deed, the fatalist regards the former only as an instrument in the hands of a force outside the agent, which compels his will to execute its plans. Sometimes it reaches its goal in a way quite unforeseen by the agent himself. Muhammed said, "When God hath ordered a creature to die in any particular place, He causeth his wants to direct him to that place";[29] and it is a popular saying throughout Islam that "whenas Destiny descends she blindeth human sight."[30] Sometimes the external power causes its victim to will its decree, by exciting in him some irresistible passion, as when Zeus urged Clytemnestra to the slaughter of Agamemnon; or the volitions of a person are themselves regarded as decreed by that power. In Wärend, in Sweden, when somebody has killed another, as also when the manslayer himself suffers the penalty of death, the women say, full of compassion, "Well, this was his destiny, to be sure," or "Poor fellow, it was a pitiful fate."[31] In one of the Pahlavi texts the following words are put into the mouth of the Spirit of {324} Wisdom:--"Even with the might and powerfulness of wisdom and knowledge, even then it is not possible to contend with destiny. Because, when predestination as to virtue, or as to the reverse, comes forth, the wise becomes wanting in duty, and the astute in evil becomes intelligent; the faint-hearted becomes braver, and the braver becomes faint-hearted; the diligent becomes lazy, and the lazy acts diligently. Just as is predestined as to the matter, the cause enters into it, and thrusts out everything else."[32] [Footnote 27: _Ibid._ pt. i. Appendix.] [Footnote 28: In a Pahlavi text fate is defined as "that which is ordained from the beginning," and divine providence as that which the sacred beings "also grant otherwise" (_Dînâ-î Maînôg-î Khirad_, xxiv. 6 _sq._).] [Footnote 29: Lane, _Arabian Society in the Middle Ages_, p. 6.] [Footnote 30: Burton, in his translation of the _Arabian Nights_, i. 62, n. 2.] [Footnote 31: Hyltén-Cavallius, _Wärend och Wirdarne_, i. 206.] [Footnote 32: _Dînâ-î Maînôg-î Khirad_, xxiii. 3 _sqq._] Nor is it only the popular mind that, when human volitions are concerned, interprets causation as compulsion. Even such philosophers as Hamilton[33] and Mansel[34] seemed quite unable to distinguish between determinism and fatalism. Professor Laurie likewise observes:--"Determinism is the term adopted of late years to veil fatalism and confound issues . . . . Freedom or fate, these are the sole alternatives."[35] Surely, it is those who identify determinism with fatalism that "confound issues." And a similar confusion lurks behind the main argument which has been adduced in support of free-will. It is said that "I ought" implies "I can," and that men are not accountable for what they cannot avoid. This is perfectly true if by "cannot" is meant compulsion, and by "can" freedom from compulsion. But it is certainly not true if "I can" is intended to mean that "I" am a first cause, not determined by anything else. [Footnote 33: Hamilton, _Lectures on Metaphysics_, ii. 410 _sqq._] [Footnote 34: Mansel, _Prolegomena Logica_, p. 329 _sqq._] [Footnote 35: Laurie, _Ethica_, pp. 307, 319.] When a person's will is believed to be constrained by a power outside him, he can obviously not be held responsible for what he does under the influence of such constraint. We are responsible only for that which is due to our will. A licentious man who has grown up in a corrupt society is less blamable than an equally licentious man who has always lived under conditions favourable to virtue; and if we hear of a criminal that he was kidnapped as a child by a band of pickpockets and trained to their profession, we {325} no doubt look upon him with some indulgence. In these cases, however, it may be said that, though the person's conduct is largely due to the influence of external circumstances upon his will, this influence was not irresistible, that he might have saved himself with an effort of will, and that consequently he is not wholly irresponsible. But in the case of a restraining destiny no escape is possible; the compulsion is complete. Hence the logical outcome of radical fatalism is a denial of all moral imputability, and a repudiation of all moral judgment.[36] [Footnote 36: Of the inhabitants of North-Eastern Africa, Munzinger observes (_Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 66):--"Seien sie Christen, Heiden, odor Mohammedaner, schreiben sie Leben und Tod, Glück und Unglück, Tugend und Verbrechen der unmittelbaren Hand Gottes zu. Mit dieser blinder Nothwendigkeit entschuldigt sich der Missethäter, tröstet sich der Unglückliche." _Cf._ also Doughty, _Arabia Deserta_, i. 155, on the Bedouins. However, men are not philosophers in the ordinary practice of life, hence the fatalist is generally as ready as anybody else to judge on his neighbour's conduct. According to various ancient writers, the power of destiny is limited so as not to exclude personal responsibility (see Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, i. 59 _sq._).] Not so with determinism. Whilst fatalism presupposes the existence of a person who is constrained by an outward power, determinism regards the person himself as in every respect a product of causes. It does not assume any part of his will to have existed previous to his formation by these causes; his will is not constrained by them, it is made by them. When we say of a person that he is influenced by external circumstances or subdued by fate, we regard _him_ as existing independently of that which influences or subdues him, we attribute to him an innate character which is acted upon from the outside. He would have been different if he had grown up under different conditions of life, or if fate had left him alone. But it would be absolutely meaningless to say that he would be different if the causes to which he owes his existence had been different; for instance, if he were the offspring of different parents. This shows that we distinguish between the original self of a person and the self which is partly innate and partly the product of external circumstances. His innate character belongs to his original {326} self; and, strictly speaking, it is on the innate character only that the scrutinising moral judge, so far as possible, passes his judgment, carefully considering the degree of pressure to which it has been exposed both from the non-voluntary part of the individual himself and from the outside world.[37] According to the fatalist, the innate character is _compelled_; hence personal responsibility is out of the question. According to the determinist the innate character is _caused_; but this has nothing whatever to do with the question of responsibility. The moral emotions are no more concerned with the origin of the innate character than the aesthetic emotions are concerned with the origin of the beautiful object. In their capacity of retributive emotions, the moral emotions are essentially directed towards sensitive and volitional entities conceived, not as uncaused themselves, but only as causes of pleasure or pain. [Footnote 37: That the proper subject of moral judgment is the innate character was emphasised by Schopenhauer in his prize-essays on _Die Freiheit des Willens_ (_Sämmtliche Werke_, vii. 83 _sqq._) and _Die Grundlage der Moral_ (_ibid._ vii. 273 _sqq._). The innate character, he says, that real core of the whole man, contains the germ of all his virtues and vices. And though Schopenhauer be mistaken in his statement that a person's character always remains the same, it seems to me indisputable that the succeeding changes to which it may be subject are imputable to _him_ only in so far as they are caused by his innate character.] CHAPTER XIV PRELIMINARY REMARKS--HOMICIDE IN GENERAL WE have discussed the general nature of those phenomena which have a tendency to evoke moral blame or moral praise. We have seen that moral judgments are passed on conduct and character, and we have seen why this is the case. It now remains for us to examine the particular modes of conduct which are subject to moral valuation, and to consider how these modes of conduct are judged of by different peoples and in different ages. If carried out in every detail such an investigation could never come to an end. Among other things, it would have to take into account all customs existing among the various races of men, since every custom constitutes a moral rule. And the impossibility of any such undertaking becomes apparent when we consider the extent to which the conduct of man, and especially of savage man, is hampered by custom. Among the Wanika, for instance, "if a man dares to improve the style of his hut, to make a larger doorway than is customary; if he should wear a finer or different style of dress to that of his fellows, he is instantly fined."[1] If, during the performance of a ceremony, the ancestors of an Australian native were in the habit of painting a white line across the forehead, their descendant must do the same.[2] Dr. Nansen's statement with reference to the Greenlanders, {328} that their communities had originally customs and fixed rules for every possible circumstance,[3] is essentially true of many, if not all, of the lower races. [Footnote 1: New, _Life, Wanderings, and Labours in Eastern Africa_, p. 110.] [Footnote 2: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 11.] [Footnote 3: Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 104.] It is necessary, then, that we should restrict ourselves to the more important modes of conduct with which the moral consciousness of mankind is concerned. These modes of conduct may be conveniently divided into six groups. The first group includes such acts, forbearances, and omissions as directly concern the interests of other men, their life or bodily integrity, their freedom, honour, property, and so forth. The second includes such acts, forbearances, and omissions as chiefly concern a man's own welfare, such as suicide, temperance, asceticism. The third group, which partly coincides with, but partly differs from, both the first and the second, refers to the sexual relations of men. The fourth includes their conduct towards the lower animals; the fifth, their conduct towards dead persons; the sixth, their conduct towards beings, real or imaginary, that they regard as supernatural. We shall examine each of these groups separately, in the above order. And, not being content with a mere description of facts, we shall try to discover the principle which lies at the bottom of the moral judgment in each particular case. * * * * * It is commonly maintained that the most sacred duty which we owe our fellow-creatures is to respect their lives. I venture to believe that this holds good not only among civilised nations, but among the lower races as well; and that, if a savage recognises that he has any moral obligations at all to his neighbours, he considers the taking of their lives to be a greater wrong than any other kind of injury inflicted upon them. Among various uncivilised peoples, however, human life is said to be held very cheap. The Australian Dieyerie, we are told, would for a mere trifle kill their dearest friend.[4] In Fiji there is an "utter disregard of {329} the value of human life."[5] A Masai will murder his friend or neighbour in a fight over a herd of captured cattle, and "live not a whit the less merrily afterwards."[6] Among the Bachapins, a Bechuana tribe, murder "excites little sensation, excepting in the family of the person who has been murdered; and brings, it is said, no disgrace upon him who has committed it; nor uneasiness, excepting the fear of their revenge."[7] The Oráons of Bengal "are ready to take life on very slight provocation," and Colonel Dalton doubts whether they see any moral guilt in it.[8] Some of the Himalayan mountaineers are reported to put men to death merely for the satisfaction of seeing the blood flow and of marking the last struggles of the victim.[9] Among the Pathans, on the north-western frontier of the Punjab, "there is hardly a man whose hands are unstained," and each person "counts up his murders."[10] [Footnote 4: Gason, 'Manners and Customs of the Dieyerie Tribe,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 258.] [Footnote 5: Williams and Calvert, _Fiji and the Fijians_, p. 115.] [Footnote 6: Johnston, _Kilima-njaro Expedition_, p. 419.] [Footnote 7: Burchell, _Travels in the Interior of Southern Africa_, ii. 554.] [Footnote 8: Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 256.] [Footnote 9: Fraser, _Journal of a Tour through the Him[=a]l[=a] Mountains_, p. 267.] [Footnote 10: Temple, quoted by Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, i. 343. For other instances of the indifference of savages to human life, see Egede, _Description of Greenland_, p. 123; Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 177; Holm, 'Ethnologisk Skizze af Angmagsalikerne,' in _Meddeleser om Grönland_, x. 87, 179 _sq._; Coxe, _Russian Discoveries between Asia and America_, p. 257 (Aleuts of Unalaska); Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamtschatka_, p. 204; Steller, _Beschreibung von dem Lande Kamtschatka_, p. 294; Boyle, _Adventures among the Dyaks of Borneo_, p. 116 (Malays); Powell, _Wanderings in a Wild Country_, p. 262 (aborigines of New Britain); Scaramucci and Giglioli, 'Notizie sui Danakil,' in _Archivio per antropologia e la etnologia_, xiv. 26; Wilson and Felkin, _Uganda_, ii. 310 (Gowane); Schweinfurth, _Heart of Africa_, i. 286 (Bongo); Arnot, _Garenganze_, p. 71 (Barotse); Tuckey, _Expedition to Explore the River Zaire_, p. 383 (Congo natives); Waul, _Five Years with the Congo Cannibals_, p. 105 (Bolobo).] On the other hand, there are uncivilised peoples among whom homicide or murder is said to be hardly known. Among the Omahas, "before liquor was introduced there were no murders, even when men quarrelled."[11] Captain Lyon could learn of no instances of manslaughter having ever occurred among the Eskimo of Igloolik.[12] In Tutuila, of the Samoa group, according to Brenchley, there had been but one case of assassination in the course of twenty years.[13] The Veddahs of Ceylon know of manslaughter only as a punishment.[14] {330} The Bedouin of the Euphrates, says Mr. Blunt, "is essentially humane, and never takes life needlessly. If he has killed a man in war he rather conceals the fact than proclaims it aloud, while murder or even homicide is almost unknown among the tribes."[15] Among the Bakwiri, in Cameroon, Zoller never heard of any person having killed a member of his own community.[16] Murders, says Caillié, "are rare among the Bambaras, and never committed by the Mandingoes."[17] Among the Wanika "wilful cold-blooded murders are almost unknown."[18] Among the Basutos perfect safety is enjoyed "on roads where the traveller might have been robbed a hundred times over without the least hope of aid, and in houses where the doors and windows have neither bolts nor bars," and cases of murder are very rare.[19] [Footnote 11: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 369.] [Footnote 12: Lyon, _Private Journal_, p. 350.] [Footnote 13: Brenchley, _Jottings during the Cruise of H.M.S. "Curaçoa" among the South Sea Islands_, p. 58.] [Footnote 14: Sarasin, _Ergebnisse naturwissenschaftlicher Forschungen auf Ceylon_, iii. 539. _Cf._ Tennent, _Ceylon_, ii. 444. Hartshorne, in _Indian Antiquary_, viii. p. 320.] [Footnote 15: Blunt, _Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates_, ii. 203. _Cf._ _ibid._ ii. 207.] [Footnote 16: Zöller, _Kamerun_, i. 188.] [Footnote 17: Caillié, _Travels through Central Africa_, i. 353.] [Footnote 18: New, _op. cit._ p. 98.] [Footnote 19: Casalis, _Basutos_, p. 301. For other instances, see Hall, _Arctic Researches_, p. 571 (Eskimo); Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, ii. 148; Turner, _Samoa_, p. 178; Ellis, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 429; Brooke, _Ten Years in Saráwak_, i. 61 (Sea Dyaks); Low, _Sarawak_, p. 133; Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 471 (Poggi Islanders); Steller, _De Sangi-Archipel_, p. 26; Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua_, p. 41 (Ambon and Uliase Islanders); von Siebold, _Aino auf der Insel Yesso_, pp. 11, 35; Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 532 (Barea and Kunáma); Holub, _Seven Years in South Africa_, ii. 319 (Marutse); Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, pp. 61, 143 _sq._; Shooter, _Kafirs of Natal_, p. 137.] In other instances homicide is expressly said to be regarded as wrong. The Greenlanders described by Dr. Nansen hold it atrocious to kill a fellow-creature, except in some particular cases.[20] The Dacotahs say that it is a great crime to take their fellow's life, unless in revenge, "because all have a right to live."[21] In Tierra del Fuego homicide rarely occurs, as Mr. Bridges remarks, because of an inveterate custom according to which human life is held sacred: "le meurtrier est mis au ban de ses compatriotes; isolé de tous, il est fatalement condamné à périr de faim ou à tomber un jour sous les coups d'un groupe de justiciers improvisés."[22] The Andaman Islanders condemn murder as _y[=u]bda_, or sin.[23] The natives of Botany Bay, New {331} South Wales, though a trivial offence in their ideas justifies the murder of a man, "highly reprobate the crime when committed without what they esteem a just cause."[24] According to Mr. Curr's experience, the Australian Black undoubtedly feels that murder is wrong, and its committal brings remorse; even after the perpetration of infanticide or massacres, though both are practised without disguise, those engaged in them are subject to remorse and low spirits for some time.[25] [Footnote 20: Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 162.] [Footnote 21: Prescott, in Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, ii. 195.] [Footnote 22: Hyades and Deniker, _Mission scientifique du Cap Horn_, vii. 374, 243.] [Footnote 23: Man, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 112.] [Footnote 24: Barrington, _History of New South Wales_, p. 19. _Cf._ Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 126 (natives of Northern Queensland).] [Footnote 25: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 100, 43 _sq._ For other instances, see Keating, _Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River_, i. 127 (Potawatomis); Harmon, _Journal of Voyages in the Interior of North America_, p. 348 (Indians on the east side of the Rocky Mountains); Hall, _Arctic Researches_, p. 572 (Eskimo); Mariner, _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 162; Macdonald, _Oceania_, p. 208 (Efatese); Yate, _Account of New Zealand_, p. 145; Arbousset and Daumas, _Exploratory Tour to the North-East of the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope_, p. 322 (Bechuanas); Fritsch, _Die Eingeborenen Süd-Afrikra's_, p. 322 (Hottentots).] It is of particular importance in this connection to note that, in early civilisation, blood-revenge is regarded not as a private matter only, but as a duty, and that, where this custom does not prevail, the community punishes the murderer, frequently with death. We may without hesitation accept Professor Tylor's statement that "no known tribe, however low and ferocious, has ever admitted that men may kill one another indiscriminately."[26] In every society--even where human life is, generally speaking, held in low estimation--custom prohibits homicide within a certain circle of men. But the radius of the circle varies greatly. [Footnote 26: Tylor, 'Primitive Society,' in _Contemporary Review_, xxi. 714.] Savages carefully distinguish between an act of homicide committed within their own community and one where the victim is a stranger. Whilst the former is under ordinary circumstances disapproved of, the latter is in most cases allowed, and often regarded as praiseworthy. It is a very common notion in savage ethics that the chief virtue of a man is to be successful in war and to slay many enemies. Among the Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush "killing strangers might or might not be considered inexpedient, but it would {332} hardly be considered a crime"; killing fellow-tribesmen, on the other hand, is looked upon in a very different light.[27] The Koriaks do not regard murder as a great crime, unless it occur within their own tribe.[28] The early Aleuts considered the killing of a companion a crime worthy of death, "but to kill an enemy was quite another thing."[29] To an Aht Indian the murder of a man is no more than the killing of a dog, provided that the victim is not a member of his own tribe.[30] According to Humboldt, the natives of Guiana "detest all who are not of their family, or their tribe; and hunt the Indians of a neighbouring tribe, who live at war with their own, as we hunt game."[31] In the opinion of the Fuegians, "a stranger and an enemy are almost synonymous terms," hence they dare not go where they have no friends, and where they are unknown, as they would most likely be destroyed.[32] The Australian Black nurtures an intense hatred of every male at least of his own race who is a stranger to him, and would never neglect to assassinate such a person at the earliest moment that he could do so without risk to himself.[33] In Melanesia, also, a stranger as such was generally throughout the islands an enemy to be killed.[34] [Footnote 27: Scott Robertson, _Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 194.] [Footnote 28: Krasheninnikoff, _op. cit._ p. 232.] [Footnote 29: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, 'Report on Alaska,' in _Tenth Census of the Untied States_, p. 155.] [Footnote 30: Sproat, _Scenes and Studies of Savage Life_, p. 152.] [Footnote 31: von Humboldt, _Personal Narrative of Travels_, v. 422.] [Footnote 32: Stirling, in _South Ammerican Missionary Magazine_, iv. 11. Bridges, in _A Voice for South America_, xiii. 210.] [Footnote 33: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 64, 85 _sq._ Mathew, in _Jour. & Proceed. Roy. Soc. N. S. Wales_, xviii. 398.] [Footnote 34: Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 345.] In Savage Island the slaying of a member of another tribe--that is, a potential enemy--"was a virtue rather than a crime."[35] To a young Samoan it was the realisation of his highest ambition to be publicly thanked by the chiefs for killing a foe in mortal combat.[36] "According to Fijian beliefs, men who have not slain any enemy are, in the other world, compelled to beat dirt with their clubs--the most degrading punishment the native mind can conceive--because they used their club to so little purpose;[37] and in Futuna it was deemed no less necessary to have poured out blood on the field of battle in order to hold a part in the happy future life.[38] In the Western islands of Torres Straits "it was a meritorious deed to kill foreigners either in fair fight {333} or by treachery, and honour and glory were attached to the bringing home of the skulls of the inhabitants of other islands slain in battle."[39] In the Solomon Islands,[40] New Guinea,[41] and various parts of the Malay Archipelago, he who has collected the greatest number of human heads is honoured by his tribe as the bravest man; and some peoples do not allow a man to marry until he has cut off at least one human head.[42] Among many of the North American Indians, again, he who can boast of the greatest number of scalps is the person most highly esteemed.[43] Among the Seri Indians the highest virtue "is the shedding of alien blood; and their normal impulse on meeting an alien is to kill, unless deterred by fear."[44] Among the Chukchi "it is held criminal to thieve or murder in the family or race to which a person belongs; but these crimes committed elsewhere are not only permitted, but held honourable and glorious."[45] So, too, the Gallas consider it honourable to kill an alien, though criminal to kill a countryman.[46] [Footnote 35: Thomson, _Savage Island_, p. 104. See also _ibid._ p. 94.] [Footnote 36: Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, p. 57.] [Footnote 37: Seemann, _Viti_, p. 401. _Cf._ Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 97 _sq._; Erskine, _Islands of the Western Pacific_, p. 248.] [Footnote 38: Smith, in _Jour. Polynesian Society_, i. 39.] [Footnote 39: Haddon, in _Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_, v. 277.] [Footnote 40: Romilly, _Western Pacific_, p. 73. Penny, _Ten Years in Melanesia_, p. 46. Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 345.] [Footnote 41: Romilly, _Western Pacific_, p. 76.] [Footnote 42: Bock, _Head-Hunters of Borneo_, pp. 216, 221, &c. (Dyaks). Bickmore, _Travels in the East Indian Archipelago_, p. 205 (Alfura of Ceram). Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 40 (Nagas of Upper Assam).] [Footnote 43: The well-known practice of scalping, though very common, was not universal among the North American Indians (see Gibbs, 'Tribes of Western Washington and Northwestern Oregon,' in _Contributions to N. American Ethnology_, i. 192; Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 321).] [Footnote 44: McGee, 'Seri Indians,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethnol._ xvii. 132.] [Footnote 45: Georgi, _Russia_, iii. 183.] [Footnote 46: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 229. For other instances, see Harmon, _op. cit._ p. 301 (Tacullies); Burton, _City of the Saints_, p. 139 (Dacotahs); Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 94 (Kandhs); MacMahon, _Far Cathay_, p. 262 (Indo-Burmese border tribes); Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 194 _sq._ (Eastern Central Africans); Johnston, _Kilima-njaro Expedition_, p. 419 (Masai).] At the same time there are, among the lower races, various instances in which the rule, "Thou shalt not kill," applies even to foreigners. Hospitality, as will be seen in a subsequent chapter, is a stringent duty in the savage world. Custom requires that the host should entertain and protect a stranger who comes as his guest, and by killing him the host would perpetrate an outrage hardly possible. Moreover, even in the case of intertribal relations, we must not conclude that what is allowed in war is also allowed in times of peace. The prohibition of homicide may extend beyond the tribal border, to {334} members of different tribes who for some reason or other are on friendly terms with each other.[47] We must not suppose that a tribe of savages generally either lives in a state of complete isolation, or is always at odds with its neighbours. In Australia, for instance, one tribe of natives, as a rule, entertains amicable relations with one, two, or more other tribes.[48] Among the Central Australian natives, say Messrs. Spencer and Gillen, "there is no such thing as one tribe being in a constant state of enmity with another"; on the contrary, where two tribes come into contact with one another on the border land of their respective territories, friendly feelings are maintained between the members of the two.[49] Some uncivilised peoples are even said to have no wars. The Veddahs of Ceylon never make war upon each other.[50] According to the reports of the oldest inhabitants of Umnak and Unalaska, the people there had never been engaged in war either among themselves or with their neighbours, except once with the natives of Alaska.[51] To the Greenlanders described by Dr. Nansen war is "incomprehensible and repulsive, a thing for which their language has no word."[52] [Footnote 47: See, _e.g._, Scott Robertson, _op. cit._ p. 194 (Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush).] [Footnote 48: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 62 _sq._] [Footnote 49: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 32.] [Footnote 50: Sarasin, _op. cit._ iii. 488.] [Footnote 51: Coxe, _op. cit._ p. 244.] [Footnote 52: Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 162.] That savages to some extent recognise the existence of intertribal rights in times of peace is obvious from certain customs connected with their wars. Some South Sea Islanders and North American Indians consider it necessary for a party which is about to attack another to give notice beforehand of their intention, in order that their opponents may be prepared to meet them.[53] The cessation of hostilities is often accompanied by the conclusion of a special treaty and by ceremonies calculated to make it binding.[54] The Tahitians, for instance, wove a wreath of {335} green boughs furnished by each side, exchanged two young dogs, and, having also made a band of cloth together, offered the wreath and the band to the gods with imprecations on the side which should first violate so solemn a treaty of peace.[55] Nor does savage custom always allow indiscriminate slaughter even in warfare. The inviolability of heralds is not infrequently recognised.[56] Among the aborigines of New South Wales the tribal messenger known to be a herald by the red net which he wears round his forehead, passes in safety between and through hostile tribes;[57] and among the North American Omahas "the bearer of a peace pipe was generally respected by the enemy, just as the bearer of a flag of truce is regarded by the laws of war among the so-called civilised nations."[58] And many uncivilised races have made it a rule in war to spare the weak and helpless. [Footnote 53: Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 72 (Micronesians). Gibbs, _loc. cit._ p. 190 (Indians of Western Washington and North-Western Oregon).] [Footnote 54: See Farrer, _Military Manners and Customs_, p. 162 _sq._] [Footnote 55: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 318.] [Footnote 56: See Farrer, _Militarv Manners and Customs_, p. 161.] [Footnote 57: Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 41.] [Footnote 58: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 368.] The Samoans considered it cowardly to kill a woman;[59] and even in Fiji the "enlightened party" objected to the killing of women, urging that it is "just as cowardly to kill a woman as a baby."[60] The Abipones, in their wars, "generally spared the unwarlike, and carried away innocent boys and girls unhurt."[61] An old Spanish writer tells us of the Guanches of Gran Canaria that, "in their wars, they held it as base and mean to molest or injure the women and children of the enemy, considering them as weak and helpless, therefore improper objects of their resentment";[62] and similar views prevail among the Berbers (Shlu[h.]) of Southern Morocco, as also among the Algerian Kabyles[63] and the Touareg.[64] Though the Masai and Wa-kikuyu "are eternally at war to the knife with each other, there is a compact between them not to molest the womenfolk of either party."[65] "The Masai," says Mr. Hinde, "never interfere with women in their raids, and the women cheer {336} loudly and encourage their relatives during the fight."[66] Among the Latukas, though women are employed as spies and thus become exceedingly dangerous in war, there is nevertheless a general understanding that no woman shall be killed.[67] The Basutos maintain that respect should be paid during war to women, children, and travellers, as also that those who surrender should be spared and open to ransom; and, though these rules are not invariably respected, the public voice always disapproves of their violation.[68] [Footnote 59: Turner, _Nineteen Years in Polynesia_, p. 304.] [Footnote 60: Seemann, _Viti_, p. 180.] [Footnote 61: Dobrizhoffer, _op. cit._ ii. 141.] [Footnote 62: Abreu de Galindo, _History of the Discovery and Conquest of the Canary Islands_, p. 66.] [Footnote 63: Hanoteau and Letourneux, _La Kabylie_, ii. 76.] [Footnote 64: Hourst, _Sur le Niger et au pays des Touaregs_, p. 223 _sq._] [Footnote 65: Thomson, _Through Masai Land_, p. 177.] [Footnote 66: Hinde, _The Last of the Masai_, p. 6, n.*] [Footnote 67: Baker, _Albert N'yanza_, i. 355.] [Footnote 68: Casalis, _op. cit._ p. 223 _sq._ For regard paid to women, old people, and children in war, see also Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, i. 367 (Western Eskimo); Catlin, _North American Indians_, ii. 240; Azara, _Voyages_, ii. 145 (Payaguas).] Sometimes custom even requires that the life of the captive shall be spared. It is against Masai tradition to kill prisoners of war.[69] Among the Kabyles "il faut que l'exaspération des partis soit extrême pour qu'un blessé ou un prisonnier soit mis à mort."[70] The Touareg do not kill their prisoners after a fight.[71] Among the Bedouins of the Euphrates "the person of the enemy is sacred when disarmed or dismounted; and prisoners are neither enslaved nor held to other ransom than their mares."[72] "Captives," says Mr. Dorsey, "were not slain by the Omahas and Ponkas. When peace was declared the captives were sent home, if they wished to go. If not they could remain where they were, and were treated as if they were members of the tribe."[73] Among the Wyandots prisoners of war were frequently adopted into the tribe. "The warrior taking the prisoner has the first right to adopt him. If no one claims the prisoner for this purpose, he is caused to run the gauntlet as a test of his courage. If at his trial he behaves manfully claimants are not wanting, but if he behaves disgracefully he is put to death."[74] [Footnote 69: Hinde, _op. cit._ p. 64.] [Footnote 70: Hanoteau and Letourneux, _op. cit._ 75.] [Footnote 71: Hourst, _op. cit._ p. 207.] [Footnote 72: Blunt, _op. cit._ ii. 239.] [Footnote 73: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 332.] [Footnote 74: Powell, _ibid._ i. 68.] Thus we notice even among uncivilised races very obvious traces of what is called "international law,"[75] if not as a rule, at least as an exception. On the other hand, the {337} readiness with which war is engaged in, not only in self-defence or out of revenge, but for the sake of gain, indicates how little regard is paid to human life outside the tribe. The Kandhs, for instance, maintain "that a state of war may be lawfully presumed against all tribes and nations with whom no express agreement to the contrary exists."[76] And if a few savage peoples live in perpetual peace, it seems that the chief reason for this is not a higher standard of morality, but the absence of all inducements to war. [Footnote 75: See also Wheeler, _The Tribe, and Intertribal Relations in Australia_, _passim_.] [Footnote 76: Hunter, _Annals of Rural Bengal_, iii. 75.] When we from the lower races pass to peoples more advanced in culture, we find that the social unit has grown larger, that the nation has taken the place of the tribe, and that the circle within which homicide is prohibited as a crime of the first order has been extended accordingly. But the old distinction between injuries committed against compatriots and harm done to foreigners remains. Even when the subject is not touched upon in the laws referring to homicide we may, from the general attitude of the people towards members of other nations, infer that public opinion is not very scrupulous as to the taking of their lives. How the Chinese looked upon the "red-haired barbarians," the "foreign devils," is well known from recent history. In former days, Japan's attitude towards her neighbours and the whole world was that of an enemy and not of a friend.[77] The Vedic hymns are full of imprecations of misfortune upon men of another race.[78] That among the ancient Teutons the lot of a stranger was not an enviable one is testified even by language; the German word _elender_ has acquired its present meaning from the connotation of the older word which meant an "outlandish" man.[79] The stranger as such--unless he belonged to a friendly, neighbouring tribe--had originally no legal rights at all; for his protection he was dependent on individual {338} hospitality, and hospitality was restricted by custom to three days only.[80] According to the Swedish Westgöta-Lag, he who killed a foreigner had to pay no compensation to the dead man's relatives, nor was he outlawed, nor exiled.[81] The Laws of King Ine let us understand in what light a stranger was looked upon:--"If a far-coming man, or a stranger, journey through a wood out of the highway, and neither shout nor blow his horn, he is to be held for a thief, either to be slain or redeemed."[82] However, as commerce increased and the stranger was more often seen in Teutonic lands, royal protection was extended to him; and a consequence of this was that thenceforth he who killed the stranger had to pay a _wergeld_, part, or the whole, of which went to the king.[83] In Greece, in early times, the "contemptible stranger"[84] had no legal rights, and was protected only in case he was the guest of a citizen;[85] and even later on, at Athens, whilst the intentional killing of a citizen was punished with death and confiscation of the murderer's property, the intentional killing of a non-citizen was punished only with exile.[86] The Latin word _hostis_ was originally used to denote a foreigner;[87] and the saying of Plautus, that a man is a wolf to a man whom he does not know,[88] was probably an echo of an old Roman proverb. Mommsen suggests that in ancient days the Romans did not punish the killing of a foreigner, unless he belonged to an allied nation; but already in the prehistoric period a change was introduced, the foreigner being placed under the protection of the State.[89] [Footnote 77: Griffis, _Religions of Japan_, p. 129.] [Footnote 78: Roth, 'On the Morality of the Veda,' in _Jour. American Oriental Society_, iii. 338.] [Footnote 79: _Cf._ Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 396; Gummere, _Germanic Origins_, p. 288.] [Footnote 80: Grimm, _op. cit._ p. 397 _sqq._ Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtgeschichte_, i. 273.] [Footnote 81: _Westgöta-Lagen I._ Af mandrapi, v. 4 p. 13.] [Footnote 82: _Laws of Ine_, 20. _Cf._ _Laws of Wihtræd_, 28.] [Footnote 83: Brunner, _op. cit._ i. 273 _sq._ Gummere, _op. cit._ p. 288. Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the Time of Edward I._ i. 52.] [Footnote 84: _Iliad_, ix. 648.] [Footnote 85: Hermann-Blümner, _Lehrsbüch der griechischen Privatalterthümer_, p. 492. Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 325.] [Footnote 86: Meier and Schömann, _Der altische Process_, p. 379.] [Footnote 87: Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 12.] [Footnote 88: Plautus, _Asinaria_, ii. 4. 88.] [Footnote 89: Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 622 _sqq._] How little regard is felt for the lives of strangers also appears from the readiness with which war is waged on {339} foreign nations, combined with the estimation in which the successful warrior is held by his countrymen. The ancient Mexicans were never at a loss for an excuse to pick a quarrel with their neighbours, so as to be able to procure victims for sacrifices to their gods.[90] "No profession was held in more esteem amongst them than the profession of arms. The deity of war was the most revered by them, and regarded as the chief protector of the nation."[91] The Mayas not only wanted to increase their dominions by encroachments upon their neighbours' territory, but undertook raids with no other object than that of obtaining captives for sacrifice.[92] Speaking of the wars of the ancient Egyptians, M. Amélineau observes, "Nous n'avons pas un seul mot dans la littérature égyptienne, même dans les [oe]uvres égypto-chrétiennes, qui nous fasse entendre le plus léger cri de réprobation pour la guerre et ses horreurs."[93] Among the Hebrews the most cruel wars of extermination were expressly sanctioned by their religion. That an idolatrous people had no right to live was taken as a matter of course; but wars were also unscrupulously waged from worldly motives, and in their moral code there is no attempt to distinguish between just and unjust war.[94] Among the Mohammedans it is likewise the unbeliever, not the foreigner as such, that is regarded as the most proper object of slaughter. Although there is no precept in the Koran which, taken with the context, justifies unprovoked war,[95] the saying that "Paradise is under the shadow of swords"[96] is popularly applied to all warfare against infidels. Among the Celts[97] and Teutons a man's highest aspiration was to acquire military glory. The Scandinavians considered it a disgrace for a man to die {340} without having seen human blood flow;[98] even the slaying of a tribesman they often regarded lightly when it had been done openly and bravely. In Greece, in ancient times at least, war was the normal relation between different states, and peace an exception, for which a special treaty was required;[99] while to conquer and enslave barbarians was regarded as a right given to the Greeks by Nature. The whole statecraft of the early Republic of Rome was no doubt based upon similar principles;[100] and in later days, also, the war policy of the Romans was certainly not conducted with that conscientiousness which was insisted upon by some of their writers. [Footnote 90: Bancroft, _Native Races of the Pacific States_, ii. 420. Clavigero, _History of Mexico_, i. 371.] [Footnote 91: Clavigero, _op. cit._ i. 363.] [Footnote 92: Bancroft, _op. cit._ ii. 740, 745.] [Footnote 93: Amélineau, _L'évolution des idées morales dans l'Égypte ancienne_, p. 344.] [Footnote 94: _Cf._ Seldeft, _De Synedriis et Præfecturis Juridicis veterum Ebræorum_, iii. 12, p. 1179 _sqq._; Lament, _Études sur l'histoire de l'humanité_, i. 384 _sq._] [Footnote 95: This was later on admitted by Lane (_Modern Egyptians_, p. 574), who had previously maintained that the duty of waging holy war is strongly urged in the Koran.] [Footnote 96: Pool, _Studies in Mohammedanism_, p. 246.] [Footnote 97: Logan, _The Scottish Gael_, i. 101. de Valroger, _Les Celtes_, p. 186.] [Footnote 98: _Njála_, ch. 40, vol. i. 167. Maurer, _Rekehrung des Norwegischen Stammes_, ii. 172.] [Footnote 99: Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 280. Laurent, _op. cit._ i. 46. Plato, _Leges_, i. 625. Livy, xxxi. 29: "Cum alienigenis, cum barbaris aeternum omnibus Graecis bellum est."] [Footnote 100: _Cf._ Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 257.] However, the foreigner is not entirely, or under all circumstances, devoid of rights. Among the nations of archaic civilisation, as among the lower races, hospitality is a duty, and the life of a guest is as sacred as the life of any of the permanent members of the household. In various cases the commencement of international hostilities is preceded by special ceremonies, intended to justify acts which are not considered proper in times of peace. In ancient Mexico it was usual to send a formal challenge or declaration of war to the enemy, as it was held discreditable to attack a people unprepared for defence;[101] and, according to the fecial law of the Romans, no war was just unless it was undertaken to reclaim property, or unless it was solemnly denounced and proclaimed beforehand.[102] In some cases warfare is condemned, or a distinction is made between just and unjust war with reference to the purpose for which the war is waged. The Chinese philosophers were great advocates of peace.[103] According to Lao-Tsze, a superior man uses weapons "only on the compulsion of necessity";[104] there is no calamity greater {341} than lightly engaging in war,[105] and "he who has killed multitudes of men should weep for them with the bitterest grief."[106] In the Indian poem, Mahabharata, needless warfare is condemned; it is said that the success which is obtained by negotiations is the best, and that the success which is secured by battle is the worst.[107] Among the Hebrews the sect of the Essenes went so far in their reprobation of war that they would not manufacture any martial instruments whatever.[108] Roman historians, even in the case of wars with barbarians, often discuss the sufficiency or insufficiency of the motives "with a conscientious severity a modern historian could hardly surpass."[109] According to Cicero, a war, to be just, ought to be necessary, the sole object of war being to enable us to live undisturbed in peace. There are two modes of settling controversies, he says, one by discussion, the other by a resort to force. The first is proper to man, the second is proper to brutes, and ought never to be adopted except where the first is unavailable.[110] Seneca regards war as a "glorious crime," comparable to murder:--"What is forbidden in private life is commanded by public ordinance. Actions which, committed by stealth, would meet with capital punishment, we praise because committed by soldiers. Men, by nature the mildest species of the animal race, are not ashamed to find delight in mutual slaughter, to wage wars, and to transmit them to be waged by their children, when even dumb animals and wild beasts live at peace with one another."[111] History attests that the Romans, in their intercourse with other nations, did not act upon Cicero's and Seneca's lofty theories of international morality; as Plutarch observes, the two names "peace" and "war" are mostly used only as coins, to procure, not what is just, but what is expedient.[112] Yet there seems to have been a general {342} feeling in Rome that the waging of a war required some justification. In declaring it, the Roman heralds called all the gods to witness that the people against whom it was declared had been unjust and neglectful of its obligations.[113] [Footnote 101: Clavigero, _op. cit._ i. 370. Bancroft, _op. cit._ ii. 420, 421, 423.] [Footnote 102: Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 11.] [Footnote 103: _Cf._ Lanessan, _Morale des philosophes chinois_, pp. 54, 107.] [Footnote 104: _Táo Teh King_, xxxi. 2.] [Footnote 105: _Ibid._ lxix. 2.] [Footnote 106: _Ibid._ xxxi. 3.] [Footnote 107: _Mahabharata_, Bhisma Parva, iii. 81 (pt. xii. _sq._ p. 6).] [Footnote 108: Philo, _Quod liber sit quisquis virtuti studet_, p. 877.] [Footnote 109: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 258.] [Footnote 110: Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 11.] [Footnote 111: Seneca, _Epistulæ_, 95.] [Footnote 112: Plutarch, _Vita Pyrrhi_, xii. 3, p. 389.] [Footnote 113: Livy, i. 32.] Even in war the killing of an enemy is, under certain circumstances, prohibited either by custom or by enlightened moral opinion. Among the ancient Nahuas, who never accepted a ransom for a prisoner of war, the person of an ambassador was at all events held sacred.[114] In the 'Book of Rewards and Punishments,' which embodies popular Taouism, it is said, "Do not massacre the enemies who yield themselves, nor kill those who offer their submission."[115] The Hebrews, whilst being commanded to "save alive nothing that breatheth" of the cities which the Lord had given them for an inheritance, were to deal differently with cities which were very far off from them: to kill only the men, and to take to themselves the women and the little ones.[116] The Laws of Manu lay down very humane rules for a king who fights with his foes in battle:--"Let him not strike with weapons concealed in wood, nor with such as are barbed, poisoned, or the points of which are blazing with fire. Let him not strike one who in flight has climbed on an eminence, nor a eunuch, nor one who joins the palms of his hands in supplication, nor one who flees with flying hair, nor one who sits down, nor one who says 'I am thine'; nor one who sleeps, nor one who has lost his coat of mail, nor one who is naked, nor one who is disarmed, nor one who looks on without taking part in the fight, nor one who is fighting with another foe; nor one whose weapons are broken, nor one afflicted with sorrow, nor one who has been grievously wounded, nor one who is in fear, nor one who has turned to flight; but in all these cases let him remember the duty of honourable warriors."[117] The Mahabharata contains expressions of {343} similar chivalrous sentiments in regard to enemies. A car-warrior should fight only with a car-warrior, a horse-man with a horse-man, a foot-soldier with a foot-soldier. "Always being led by consideration of fitness, willingness, bravery, and strength, one should strike another after having challenged him. None should strike another who is confiding or who is panic-striken. One fighting with another, one seeking refuge, one retreating, one whose weapon is broken, and one who is not clad in armour should never be struck. Charioteers, animals, men engaged in carrying weapons, those who play on drums and those who blow conchs should never be smitten."[118] Among the Greeks, in the Homeric age, it was evidently regarded as a matter of course that, on the fall of a city, all the men were slain, and the women and children carried off as slaves;[119] but in historic times such a treatment of a vanquished foe grew rarer, and seems, under ordinary circumstances, to have been disapproved of.[120] The rulers of this land, says the messenger in the 'Heraclidæ,' do not approve of slaying enemies who have been taken alive in battle.[121] In Rome the customs of war underwent a similar change. In ancient days the normal fate of a captive was death, in later times he was generally reduced to slavery; but many thousands of captives were condemned to the gladiatorial shows, and the vanquished general was commonly slain in the Mamertine prison.[122] On the other hand, nations or armies that voluntarily submitted to Rome were habitually treated with great leniency. Cicero says:--"When we obtain the victory we must preserve those enemies who behaved without cruelty or inhumanity during the war; for example, our forefathers received, even as members of their state, the Tuscans, the Aequi, the Volscians, the Sabines, and the Hernici, but utterly destroyed Carthage and Numantia. . . . And, while we {344} are bound to exercise consideration toward those whom we have conquered by force, so those should be received into our protection who throw themselves upon the honour of our general, and lay down their arms, even though the battering rams should have struck their walls."[123] [Footnote 114: Bancroft, _op. cit._ ii. 426, 412.] [Footnote 115: Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 261.] [Footnote 116: _Deuteronomy_, xx. 13 _sqq._] [Footnote 117: _Laws of Manu_, vii. 90 _sq._] [Footnote 118: _Mahabharata_, Bhisma Parva, i. 27 _sqq._ (pt. xii. _sq._ p. 2).] [Footnote 119: _Iliad_, ix. 593 _sq._] [Footnote 120: Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 281 _sqq._] [Footnote 121: Euripides, _Heraclidæ_, 966.] [Footnote 122: Laurent, _op. cit._ iii. 20 _sq._ Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 257.] [Footnote 123: Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 11.] CHAPTER XV HOMICIDE IN GENERAL (continued) CHRISTIANITY introduced into Europe a higher regard for human life than was felt anywhere in pagan society. The early Christians condemned homicide of any kind as a heinous sin. And in this, as in all other questions of moral concern, the distinction of nationality or race was utterly ignored by them. The sanctity which they attached to the life of every human being led to a total condemnation of warfare, sharply contrasting with the prevailing sentiment in the Roman Empire. In accordance with the general spirit of their religion, as also with special passages in the Bible,[1] they considered war unlawful under all circumstances. Justin Martyr quotes the prophecy of Isaiah, that "nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more,"[2] and proceeds to say that the instruction in the word of God which was given by the twelve Apostles "had so good effect that we, who heretofore were continually devouring each other, will not now so much as lift up our hand against our enemies."[3] Lactantius asserts that "to engage in war cannot be lawful for the righteous man, whose warfare is that of righteousness itself."[4] Tertullian asks, "Can it be lawful to {346} handle the sword, when the Lord Himself has declared that he who uses the sword shall perish by it?"[5] And in another passage he states that "the Lord by his disarming of Peter disarmed every soldier from that time forward."[6] Origen calls the Christians the children of peace, who, for the sake of Jesus, never take up the sword against any nation; who fight for their monarch by praying for him, but who take no part in his wars, even though he urge them.[7] It is true that, even in early times, Christian soldiers were not unknown; Tertullian alludes to Christians who were engaged in military pursuits together with their heathen countrymen.[8] But the number of Christians enrolled in the army seems not to have been very considerable before the era of Constantine,[9] and, though they were not cut off from the Church, their profession was looked upon as hardly compatible with their religion. St. Basil says that soldiers, after their term of military service has expired, are to be excluded from the sacrament of the communion for three whole years.[10] And according to one of the canons of the Council of Nice, those Christians who, having abandoned the profession of arms, afterwards returned to it, "as dogs to their vomit," were for some years to occupy in the Church the place of penitents.[11] [Footnote 1: _St. Matthew_, v. 9, 39, 44. _Romans_, xii. 17. _Ephesians_, vi. 12.] [Footnote 2: _Isaiah_, ii. 4.] [Footnote 3: Justin Martyr, _Apologia I. pro Christianis_, 39 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, Ser. Graeca, vi. 387 _sq._).] [Footnote 4: Lactantius, _Divinæ institutiones_, vi. ('De vero cultu') 20 (Migne, _op. cit._ vi. 708).] [Footnote 5: Tertullian, _De corona_, 11 (Migne, _op. cit._ ii. 92).] [Footnote 6: Tertullian, _De idolatria_, 19 (Migne, _op. cit._ i. 691).] [Footnote 7: Origen, _Contra Celsum_, v. 33; viii. 73 (Migne, _op. cit._ Ser. Graeca, xi. 1231 _sq._, 1627 _sq._).] [Footnote 8: Tertullian, _Apologeticus_, 42 (Migne, _op. cit._ i. 491).] [Footnote 9: Le Blant, _Inscriptions chrétiennes de la Gaule_, i. 84 _sqq._] [Footnote 10: St. Basil, _Epistola CLXXXVIII._, _ad Amphilochium_, can. 13 (Migne, _op. cit._ Ser. Graeca, xxxii. 681 _sq._).] [Footnote 11: _Concilium Nicænum_, A.D. 325, can. 12 (Labbe-Mansi, _Sacrorum Conciliorum collectio_, ii. 674).] A divine law which prohibited all resistance to enemies could certainly not be accepted by the State, especially at a time when the Empire was seriously threatened by foreign invaders. Christianity could therefore never become a State-religion unless it gave up its attitude towards war. And it gave it up. Already in 314 a Council condemned soldiers who, from religious motives, {347} deserted their colours.[12] The Fathers of the fourth and fifth centuries did not altogether disapprove of war. Chrysostom and Ambrose, though seeing the difficulty of reconciling it with the theory of Christian life which they found in the New Testament, perceived that the use of the sword was necessary to preserve the State.[13] St. Augustine went much farther. He tried to prove that the practice of war was quite compatible with the teachings of Christ. The soldiers mentioned in the New Testament, who were seeking for a knowledge of salvation, were not directed by our Lord to throw aside their arms and renounce their profession, but were advised by him to be content with their wages.[14] St. Peter baptised Cornelius, the centurion, in the name of Christ, without exhorting him to give up the military life,[15] and St. Paul himself took care to have a strong guard of soldiers for his defence.[16] And was not the history of David, the "man after God's own heart," an evidence of those being wrong who say that "no one who wages war can please God"?[17] When Christ declared that "all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword,"[18] He referred to such persons only as arm themselves to shed the blood of others without either command or permission of any superior or lawful authority.[19] A great deal depends on the causes for which men undertake war, and on the authority they have for doing so. Those wars are just which are waged with a view to obtaining redress for wrongs, or to chastising the undue arrogance of another State. The monarch has the power of making war when he thinks it advisable, and, even if he be a sacrilegious {348} king, a Christian may fight under him, provided that what is enjoined upon the soldier personally is not contrary to the precept of God.[20] In short, though peace is our final good, though in the City of God there is peace in eternity,[21] war may sometimes be a necessity in this sinful world. [Footnote 12: _Concilium Arelatense I._ A.D. 314, can. 3 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ ii. 471). _Cf._ Le Blant, _op. cit._ i. p. lxxxii.] [Footnote 13: Gibb, 'Christian Church and War,' in _British Quarterly Review_, lxxiii. 83.] [Footnote 14: St. Augustine, _Epist. CXXXVIII._, _ad Marcellinum_, 15 (Migne, _op. cit._ xxxiii. 531 _sq._).] [Footnote 15: St. Augustine, _Epist. CLXXXIX._, _ad Bonifacium_, 4 (Migne, _op. cit._ xxxiii. 855).] [Footnote 16: St. Augustine, _Epistola XLVII._, _ad Publicolam_, 5 (Migne, _op. cit._ xxxiii. 187).] [Footnote 17: St. Augustine, _Epist. CLXXXIX._, _ad Bonifacium_, 4 (Migne, _op. cit._ xxxiii. 855).] [Footnote 18: _St. Matthew_, xxvi. 52.] [Footnote 19: St. Augustine, _Contra Faustum Manichæum_, xxii. 70 (Migne, _op. cit._ xlii, 444).] [Footnote 20: St. Augustine, _Contra Faustum Manichæum_, xxii. 75 (Migne, _op. cit._ xlii. 448).] [Footnote 21: St. Augustine, _De civitate Dei_, xix. 11.] By the writings of St. Augustine the theoretical attitude of the Church towards war was definitely settled, and later theologians only reproduced or further elaborated his views. Yet it was not with a perfectly safe conscience that Christianity thus sanctioned the practice of war. There was a feeling that a soldier scarcely could make a good Christian. In the middle of the fifth century, Leo the Pope declared it to be contrary to the rules of the Church that persons after the action of penance--that is, persons then considered to be pre-eminently bound to obey the law of Christ--should revert to the profession of arms.[22] Various Councils forbade the clergy to engage in warfare,[23] and certain canons excluded from ordination all who had served in an army after baptism.[24] Penance was prescribed for those who had shed blood on the battle-field.[25] Thus {349} the ecclesiastical canons made in William the Conqueror's reign by the Norman prelates, and confirmed by the Pope, directed that he who was aware that he had killed a man in a battle should do penance for one year, and that he who had killed several should do a year's penance for each.[26] Occasionally the Church seemed to wake up to the evils of war in a more effective way; there are several notorious instances of wars being forbidden by popes. But in such cases the prohibition was only too often due to the fact that some particular war was disadvantageous to the interests of the Church. And whilst doing comparatively little to discourage wars which did not interfere with her own interests, the Church did all the more to excite war against those who were objects of her hatred. [Footnote 22: Leo Magnus, _Epistola XC._, _ad Rusticum_, inquis. 12 (Migne, _op. cit._ liv. 1206 _sq._).] [Footnote 23: One of the Apostolic Canons requires that any bishop, priest, or deacon who devotes himself to military service shall be degraded from his ecclesiastical rank (_Canones ecclesiastici qui dicuntur Apostolorum_, 83 [74] [Bunsen, _Analecta Ante-Nicæna_, ii. 31]). The Councils of Toulouse, in 633 (ch. 45, in Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ x. 630), and of Meaux, in 845 (can. 37, _ibid._ xiv. 827), condemned to a similar punishment those of the clergy who ventured to take up arms. Gratian says (_Decretum_, ii. 23. 8. 4) that the Church refuses to pray for the soul of a priest who died on the battle-field. Notwithstanding the canons of Councils and the decrees of popes, ecclesiastics frequently participated in battles (Nicolaus I. _Epistolæ et Decreta_, 83 [Migne, _op. cit._ cxix. 922]. Robertson, _History of the Reign of Charles V._ i. 330, 385. Ward, _Foundation and History of the Law of Nations_, i. 365 _sq._ Buckle, _History of Civilisation in England_, i. 204; ii. 464. Bethune-Baker, _Influence of Christianity on War_, p. 52. Dümmler, _Geschichte des Ostfränkischen Reichs_, ii. 637).] [Footnote 24: Grotius, _De jure belli et pacis_, i. 2. 10. 10. Bingham, _Antiquities of the Christian Church_, iv. 4. 1 (_Works_, ii. 55).] [Footnote 25: _P[oe]nitentiale Bigotianum_, iv. i. 4 (Wasserschleben, _Bussordnungen der abendländischen Kirche_, p. 453). _P[oe]nit. Vigilanum_, 27 (_ibid._ p. 529). _P[oe]nit. Pseudo-Theodori_, xxi. 15 (_ibid._ p. 587 _sq._). _Cf._ _Mort de Garin le Loherain_, p. 213: "Ainz se repent et se claime cheti; Ses pechiés plore au soir et au matin, De ce qu'il a tans homes mors et pris."] [Footnote 26: Wilkins, _Concilia Magnæ Britanniæ et Hiberniæ_, i. 366.] It has been suggested that the transition from the peaceful tenets of the primitive Church to the essentially military Christianity of the crusades, was chiefly due to the terrors and the example of Islam. "The spirit of Muhammedanism," says Mr. Lecky, "slowly passed into Christianity, and transformed it into its image." Until then, "war was rather condoned than consecrated, and, whatever might be the case with a few isolated prelates, the Church did nothing to increase or encourage it."[27] But this view is hardly consistent with facts. Christianity had entered on the war-path already before it came into contact with Muhammedanism. Wars against Arian peoples had been represented as holy wars, for which the combatants would be rewarded by Heaven.[28] The war which Chlodwig made upon the Visigoths was not only undertaken with the approval of the clergy, but it was, as Mr. Greenwood remarks, "properly their war, and Chlodwig undertook it in the capacity of a religious champion in all things but the disinterestedness which ought to distinguish that character." Remigius of Reims assisted him by his countenance and advice, and the {350} Catholic priesthood set every engine of their craft in motion to second and encourage him.[29] In the Church itself there were germs out of which a military spirit would naturally develop itself. The famous dictum, "Nulla salus extra ecclesiam," was promulgated as early as the days of Cyprian. The general view of mediæval orthodoxy was, that those beyond the pale of the Church, heathen and heretics alike, were unalterably doomed to hell, whereas those who would acknowledge her authority, confess their sins, receive the sacrament of baptism, partake of the eucharist and obey the priest, would be infallibly saved. If war was allowed by God, could there be a more proper object for it than the salvation of souls otherwise lost? And for those who refuse to accept the gift of grace offered to them, could there be a juster punishment than death? Moreover, had not the Israelites fought great battles "for the laws and the sanctuary"?[30] Had not the Lord Himself commissioned them to attack, subdue, and destroy his enemies? Had He not commanded them to root out the natives of Canaan, who, because of their abominations, had fallen under God's judgment, and to kill man and beast in the Israelitish cities which had given themselves to idolatry, and to burn all the spoil, with the city itself, as a whole offering to Yahveh?[31] There was no need, then, for the Christians to go to the Muhammedans in order to learn the art of religious war. The Old Testament, the revelation of God, gave better lessons in it than the Koran, and was constantly cited in justification of any cruelty committed in the name of religion.[32] [Footnote 27: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 251 _sq._] [Footnote 28: Gibb, _loc. cit._ p. 86.] [Footnote 29: Greenwood, _First Book of the History of the Germans_, p. 518.] [Footnote 30: _1 Maccabees_, xiii. 3. Thomas Aquinas (_Summa theologica_, ii-ii. 188. 3) quotes this passage in support of the doctrine, that fighting may be directed to the preservation of divine worship.] [Footnote 31: _Deuteronomy_, xiii. 15 _sq._] [Footnote 32: _Cf._ Constant, _De la religion_, ii. 229 _sq._] It was thus in perfect consistency with the general teachings of the Church that she regarded an exploit achieved against the infidels as a merit which might obliterate the guilt of the most atrocious crimes. Such a {351} deed was the instrument of pardon to Henry II. for the murder of Becket,[33] and was supposed to be the means of cure to St. Louis in a dangerous illness. Fighting against infidels took rank with fastings, penitential discipline, visits to shrines, and almsgivings, as meriting the divine mercy.[34] He who fell in the battle could be confident that his soul was admitted directly into the joys of Paradise.[35] And this held good not only of wars against Muhammedans. The massacres of Jews and heretics seemed no less meritorious than the slaughter of the more remote enemies of the Gospel. Nay, even a slight shade of difference from the liturgy of Rome became at last a legitimate cause of war. [Footnote 33: Lyttelton, _History of the Life of King Henry the Second_, iii. 96.] [Footnote 34: _Cf._ Milman, _History of Latin Christianity_, iv. 209.] [Footnote 35: _Cf._ Laurent, _Études sur l'histoire de l'humanité_, vii. 257.] It is true that these views were not shared by all. At the Council of Lyons, in 1274, the opinion was pronounced, and of course eagerly attacked, that it was contrary to the examples of Christ and the Apostles to uphold religion with the sword and to shed the blood of unbelievers.[36] In the following century, Bonet maintained that, according to Scriptures, a Saracen or any other disbeliever could not be compelled by force to accept the Christian faith.[37] Franciscus a Victoria declared that "diversity of religion is not a cause of just war";[38] and a similar opinion was expressed by Soto,[39] Covarruvias a Leyva,[40] and Suarez.[41] According to Balthazar Ayala, the most illustrious Spanish lawyer of the sixteenth century, it does not belong to the Church to punish infidels who {352} have never received the Christian faith, whereas those who, having once received it, afterwards endeavour to prevent the propagation of the Gospel, may, like other heretics, be justly persecuted with the sword.[42] But the majority of jurisconsults, as well as of canonists, were in favour of the orthodox view that unbelief is a legitimate reason for going to war.[43] And this principle was, professedly, acted upon to an extent which made the history of Christianity for many centuries a perpetual crusade, and transformed the Christian Church into a military power even more formidable than Rome under Cæsar and Augustus. Very often religious zeal was a mere pretext for wars which in reality were caused by avarice or desire for power. The aim of the Church was to be the master of the earth rather than the servant of heaven. She preached crusades not only against infidels and heretics, but against any disobedient prince who opposed her boundless pretensions. And she encouraged war when rich spoils were to be expected from the victor, as a thankoffering to God for the victory He had granted, or as an atonement for the excesses which had been committed. [Footnote 36: Bethune-Baker, _op. cit._ p. 73.] [Footnote 37: Bonet, _L'arbre des batailles_, iv. 2, p. 86: "Selon la sainte Escripture nous ne pouvons et si ne devons contredire ne efforcer ung mescreant à recepvoir ne le saint bapteme ne la sainte foy ainsi les devons laisser en leur franche volonté que Dieu leur a donnée."] [Footnote 38: Franciscus a Victoria, _Relectiones Theologicæ_, vi. 10, p. 231: "Caussa iusti belli non est diuersitas religionis." Yet infidels may be constrained to allow the Gospel to be preached (_ibid._ v. 3. 12, p. 214 _sq._).] [Footnote 39: Soto, _De justititia et jure_, v. 3. 5, fol. 154.] [Footnote 40: Covariuvias a Leyva, _Regulæ_, _Pecatum_, ii. 10. 2 (_Opera omnia_, i. 496): "Infidelitas non priuat infideles dominio, quod habent iure humano, vel habuerunt ante legem Euangelicam in prouinciis et regnis, quae obtinent."] [Footnote 41: Suarez, cited by Nys, _Droit de la guerre et les précurseurs de Grotius_, p. 98.] [Footnote 42: Ayala, _De iure et officiis bellicis et disciplina militari_, i. 2. 29 _sq._] [Footnote 43: Nys, _op. cit._ p. 89. _Idem_, in his Introduction to Bonet's _L'arbre des batailles_, p. xxiv. According to Conradus Brunus (_De legationibus_, iii. 8, p. 115), for instance, any war waged by Christians against the enemies of the Christian faith is just, as being undertaken for the defence of religion and the glory of God in order to recover the possession of dominions unjustly held by infidels.] Out of this union between war and Christianity there was born that curious bastard, Chivalry. The secular germ of it existed already in the German forests. According to Tacitus, the young German who aspired to be a warrior was brought into the midst of the assembly of the chiefs, where his father, or some other relative, solemnly equipped him for his future vocation with shield and javelin.[44] Assuming arms was thus made a social distinction, which subsequently derived its name {353} from one of its most essential characteristics, the riding a war-horse. But Chivalry became something quite different from what the word indicates. The Church knew how to lay hold of knighthood for her own purposes. The investiture, which was originally of a purely civil nature, became, even before the time of the crusades, as it were, a sacrament.[45] The priest delivered the sword into the hand of the person who was to be made a knight, with the following words, "Serve Christi, sis miles in nomine Patris, Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, Amen."[46] The sword was said to be made in semblance of the cross so as to signify "how our Lord God vanquished in the cross the death of human lying";[47] and the word "Jesus" was sometimes engraven on its hilt.[48] God Himself had chosen the knight to defeat with arms the miscreants who wished to destroy his Holy Church, in the same way as He had chosen the clergy to maintain the Catholic faith with Scripture and reasons.[49] The knight was to the body politic what the arms are to the human body: the Church was the head, Chivalry the arms, the citizens, merchants, and labourers the inferior members; and the arms were placed in the middle to render them equally capable of defending the inferior members and the head.[50] "The greatest amity that should be in this world," says the author of the 'Ordre of Chyualry,' "ought to be between the knights and clerks."[51] The several gradations of knighthood were regarded as parallel to those of the Church.[52] And after the conquest of the Holy Land the union between the profession of arms and the religion of Christ became still more intimate by the institution of the two military orders of monks, the Knights Templars and Knights of St. John of Jerusalem. [Footnote 44: Tactitus, _Germania_, 13. According to Honoré de Sainte Marie (_Dissertations historiques et critiques sur la Chevalerie_, p. 30 _sqq._), Chivalry is of Roman, according to some other writers, of Arabic origin. M. Gautier (_La Chevalerie_, pp. 14, 16) repudiates these theories, and regards Chivalry as "un usage germain idéalisé par l'Église." See also Rambaud, _Histoire de la civilisation française_, i. 178 _sq._] [Footnote 45: Scott, 'Essay on Chivalry,' in _Miscellaneous Prose Works_, vi. 16. Mills, _History of Chivalry_, i. 10 _sq._ For a description of the various religious ceremonies accompanying the investiture, see _The Book of the Ordre of Chyualry or Knyghthode_, fol. 27 b _sqq._ _Cf._ also Favyn, _Theater of Honour and Knight-Hood_, i. 52.] [Footnote 46: Favyn, _op. cit._ i. 52.] [Footnote 47: _Ordre of Chyualry_, fol. 31 a _sq._] [Footnote 48: Mills, _op. cit._ i. 71.] [Footnote 49: _Ordre of Chyualry_, fol. 11 b.] [Footnote 50: _Le Jouuencel_, fol. 94 _sqq._] [Footnote 51: _Ordre of Chyualry_, fol. 12 a.] [Footnote 52: Scott, _loc. cit._ p. 15.] {354} The duties which a knight took on himself by oath were very extensive, but not very well defined. He should defend the holy Catholic faith, he should defend justice, he should defend women, widows, and orphans, and all those of either sex that were powerless, ill at ease, and groaning under oppression, and injustice.[53] In the name of religion and justice he could thus practically wage war almost at will. Though much real oppression was undoubtedly avenged by these soldiers of the Church, the knight seems as a rule to have cared little for the cause or necessity of his doing battle. "La guerre est ma patrie, Mon harnois ma maison: Et en toute saison Combatre c'est ma vie," was a saying much in use in the sixteenth century.[54] The general impression which Froissart gives us in his history is, that the age in which he lived was completely given over to fighting, and cared about nothing else whatever.[55] The French knights never spoke of war but as a feast, a game, a pastime. "Let them play their game," they said of the cross-bow men, who were showering down arrows on them; and "to play a great game," _jouer gros jeu_, was their description of a battle.[56] Previous to the institution of Chivalry there certainly existed much fighting in Christian countries, but knighthood rendered war "a fashionable accomplishment."[57] And so all-absorbing became the passion for it that, as real injuries were not likely to occur every day, artificial grievances were created, and tilts and tournaments were invented in order to keep in action the sons of war when they had no other employments for their courage. Even in these images of war--which were by no means so harmless as they have sometimes been represented to be[58]--the intimate connection {355} between Chivalry and religion displays itself in various ways. Before the tournament began, the coats of arms, helmets, and other objects were carried into a monastery, and after the victory was gained the arms and the horses which had been used in the fight were offered up at the church.[59] The proclamations at the tournaments were generally in the name of God and the Virgin Mary. Before battle the knights confessed, and heard mass; and, when they entered the lists, they held a sort of image with which they made the sign of the cross.[60] Moreover, "as the feasts of the tournaments were accompanied by these acts of devotion, so the feasts of the Church were sometimes adorned with the images of the tournaments."[61] It is true that the Church now and then made attempts to stop these performances.[62] But then she did so avowedly because they prevented many knights from joining the holy wars, or because they swallowed up treasures which might otherwise with advantage have been poured into the Holy Land.[63] [Footnote 53: _Ordre of Chyualry_, foll. 11 b, 17 a. Sainte-Palaye, _Mémoires sur l'ancienne Chevalerie_, i. 75, 129.] [Footnote 54: De la Nouë, _Discours politiques et militaires_, p. 215.] [Footnote 55: See Sir James Stephen's essay on 'Froissart's Chronicles,' in his _Horæ Sabbaticæ_, i. 22 _sqq._] [Footnote 56: Sainte-Palaye, _op. cit._ ii. 61.] [Footnote 57: Millingen, _History of Duelling_, i. 70.] [Footnote 58: Sainte-Palaye, _op. cit._ i. 179; ii. 75. Du Cange, 'Dissertations sur l'histoire de S. Louys,' in Petitot, _Collection des Mémoires relatifs à l'histoire de France_, iii. 122 _sq._ Honoré de Sainte Marie, _op. cit._ p. 186.] [Footnote 59: Sainte-Palaye, _op. cit._ i. 151.] [Footnote 60: _Ibid._ ii. 57.] [Footnote 61: _Ibid._ ii. 57 _sq._] [Footnote 62: Du Cange, _loc. cit._ p. 124 _sqq._ Honoré de Sainte Marie, _op. cit._ p. 186. Sainte-Palaye, _op. cit._ ii. 75.] [Footnote 63: Du Cange, _loc. cit._ p. 125 _sq._] Closely connected with the feudal system was the practice of private war. Though tribunals had been instituted, and even long after the kings' courts had become well-organised and powerful institutions, a nobleman had a right to wage war upon another nobleman from whom he had suffered some gross injury.[64] On such occasions not only the relatives, but the vassals, of the injured man were bound to help him in his quarrel, and the same obligation existed in the case of the aggressor.[65] Only greater crimes were regarded as legitimate causes of private war,[66] but this rule was not at all strictly observed.[67] As {356} a matter of fact, the barons fled to arms upon every quarrel; he who could raise a small force at once made war upon him who had anything to lose. The nations of Europe were subdivided into innumerable subordinate states, which were almost independent, and declared war and made treaties with all the vigour and all the ceremonies of powerful monarchs. Contemporary historians describe the excesses committed in prosecution of these intestine quarrels in such terms as excite astonishment and horror; and great parts of Europe were in consequence reduced to the condition of a desert, which it ceased to be worth while to cultivate.[68] [Footnote 64: The right of private war generally supposed nobility of birth and equality of rank in both the contending parties (Beaumanoir, _Coutumes du Beauvoisis_, lix. 5 _sq._ vol. ii. 355 _sqq._; Robertson, _History of the Reign of Charles V._ i. 329). But it was also granted to the French _communes_, and to the free towns in Germany, Italy, and Spain (Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel des peuples modernes_, ii. 348).] [Footnote 65: Du Cange, _loc. cit._ pp. 450, 458.] [Footnote 66: _Ibid._ p. 445 _sq._ Arnold, _Deutsche Urzeit_, p. 341. von Wächter, _Beiträge zur deutschen Geschichte_, p. 46.] [Footnote 67: We read of a nobleman who declared war against the city of Frankfort, because a lady residing there had promised to dance with his cousin, but danced with another; and the city was obliged to satisfy the wounded honour of the gentleman (von Wächter, _op. cit._ p. 57).] [Footnote 68: Robertson, _op. cit._ i. 332.] The Church made some feeble attempts to put an end to this state of things. Thus, about the year 990, ordinances were directed against the practice of private war by several bishops in the south of France, who agreed to exclude him who violated their ordinances from all Christian privileges during his life, and to deny him Christian burial after his death.[69] A little later, men engaged in warfare were exhorted, by sacred relics and by the bodies of saints, to lay down their arms and to swear that they would never again disturb the public peace by their private hostilities.[70] But it is hardly likely that such directions had much effect as long as the bishops and abbots themselves were allowed to wage private war by means of their vidames, and exercised this right scarcely less frequently than the barons.[71] Nor does it seem that {357} the Church brought about any considerable change for the better by establishing the Truce of God, involving obligatory respite from hostilities during the great festivals of the Church, as also from the evening of Wednesday in each week to the morning of Monday in the week ensuing.[72] We are assured by good authorities that the Truce was generally disregarded, though the violator was threatened with the penalty of excommunication.[73] Most barons could probably say with Bertram de Born:--"La paix ne me convient pas; la guerre seule me plaît. Je n'ai égard ni aux lundis, ni aux mardis. Les semaines, les mois, les années, tout m'est égal. En tout temps, je veux perdre quiconque me nuit."[74] The ordinance enjoining the _treuga Dei_ was transgressed even by the popes.[75] It was too unpractical a direction to be obeyed, and was soon given up even in theory by the authorities of the Church. Thomas Aquinas says that, as physicians may lawfully apply remedies to men on feast-days, so just wars may be lawfully prosecuted on such days for the defence of the commonwealth of the faithful, if necessity so requires; "for it would be tempting God for a man to want to keep his hands from war under stress of such necessity."[76] And in support of this opinion he quotes the first Book of the Maccabees, where it is said, "Whosoever shall come to make battle with us on the sabbath day, we will fight against him."[77] [Footnote 69: 'Charta de Treuga et Pace per Aniciensem Praesulem Widonem in Congregatione quamplurium Episcoporum, Principium, et Nobilium hujus Terrae sancita,' in Dumont, _Corps universel diplomatique du droit des gens_, i. 41.] [Footnote 70: Raoul Glaber, _Histori sui temporis_, iv. 5 (Bouquet, _Rerum Gallicarum et Francicarum Scriptores_, x. 49). Robertson, _op. cit._ i. 335.] [Footnote 71: Brussel, _Nouvel examen de l'usage général des fiefs en France_, i. 144. How much the prelates were infected by the general spirit of the age, appears from a characteristic story of an archbishop of Cologne who gave to one of his vassals a castle situated on a sterile rock. When the vassal objected that he could not subsist on such a soil, the archbishop answered, "Why do you complain? Four roads unite under the walls of your castle" (Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, p. 504).] [Footnote 72: Raoul Glaber, _op. cit._ v. 1 (_loc. cit._ p. 59). Du Cange, _Glossarium ad scriptores mediæ et infimæ Latinitatis_, vi. 1267 _sq._ Henault, _Nouvel abrégé chronologique de l'histoire de France_, p. 106.] [Footnote 73: Du Cange, _Glossarium_, vi. 1272. Nys, _Droit de la guerre et les précurseurs de Grotius_, p. 114.] [Footnote 74: Villemain, _Cours de littérature française_, _Littérature du Moyen Age_, i. 122 _sq._] [Footnote 75: Belli, _De re militari_, quoted by Nys, _op. cit._ p. 115.] [Footnote 76: Thomas Aquinas, _op. cit._ ii.-ii. 40. 4.] [Footnote 77: _Maccabees_, ii. 41.] It seems that the main cause of the abolition of private war was not any measure taken by the Church, but the increase of the authority of emperors or kings. In France the right of waging private war was moderated by Louis IX., checked by Philip IV., suppressed by {358} Charles VI.[78] In England, after the Norman Conquest, private wars seem to have occurred more rarely than on the Continent, probably owing to the strength of the royal authority, which made the execution of justice more vigorous and the jurisdiction of the King's court more extensive than was the case in most other countries.[79] In Scotland the practice of private war received its final blow only late in the eighteenth century, when the clans were reduced to order after the rebellion of 1745.[80] Whilst, then, it is impossible to ascribe to the Church any considerable part in the movement which ultimately led to the entire abolition of private war, we have, on the other hand, to take into account the encouragement which the Church gave to the warlike spirit of the time by the establishment of Chivalry[81] and by sanctioning war as a divine institution. War came to be looked upon as a judgment of God and the victory as a sign of his special favour. Before a battle, the service of mass was usually performed by both armies in the presence of each other, and no warrior would fight without secretly breathing a prayer.[82] Pope Adrian IV. says that a war commenced under the auspices of religion cannot but be fortunate;[83] and it was commonly believed that God took no less interest in the battle than did the fighting warriors. Bonet, who wrote in the fourteenth century, puts to himself the question, why there are so many wars in the world, and gives the answer, "que toutes sont pour le pechié du siecle dont nostre seigneur Dieu pour le pugnir permet les guerres, car ainsi le maintient l'escripture."[84] [Footnote 78: Robertson, _op. cit._ i. 55, 56, 338 _sqq._ Hallam, _View of the State of Europe during the Middle Ages_, i. 207. Brussel, _op. cit._ i. 142.] [Footnote 79: _Ibid._ i. 343 _sq._ Prof. Freeman (_Comparative Politics_, p. 328 _sq._) mentions as the last instance of private war in England one from the time of Edward IV.] [Footnote 80: Lawrence, _Essays on some Disputed Questions in Modern International Law_, p. 254 _sq._] [Footnote 81: I do not understand how M. Gautier can say (_op. cit._ p. 6) that Chivalry was the most beautiful of those means by which the Church endeavoured to check war.] [Footnote 82: Mills, _History of Chivalry_, i. 147.] [Footnote 83: Laurent, _op. cit._ vii. 245.] [Footnote 84: Bonet, _op. cit._ iv. 54, p. 150.] Similar opinions have retained their place in the orthodox creeds both of the Catholic and Protestant {359} Churches up to the present day. The attitude adopted by the great Christian congregations towards war has been, and is still, to a considerable degree, that of sympathetic approval. The Catechism of the Council of Trent brings home that there are on record instances of slaughter executed by the special command of God Himself, as when the sons of Levi, who put to death so many thousands in one day, after the slaughter were thus addressed by Moses, "Ye have consecrated your hands this day to the Lord."[85] Even quite modern Catholic writers refer to the canonists who held that a State might lawfully make war upon a heretic people which was spreading heresy, and upon a pagan people which prevented the preaching of the Gospel.[86] Again, when the Protestant Churches became State-Churches, their ministers, considering themselves as in the service of the State, were ready to champion whatever war the Government pleased to undertake. As Mr. Gibb observes, the Protestant minister was as ready with his Thanksgiving Sermon for the victories of a profligate war, as the Catholic priest was with his _Te Deum_; "indeed, the latter was probably the more independent of the two, because of his allegiance to Rome."[87] The new Confessions of Faith explicitly claimed for the State the right of waging war, and the Anabaptists were condemned because they considered war unlawful for a Christian.[88] Even the necessity of a just cause as a reason for taking part in warfare, which was reasserted at the time of the Reformation, was subsequently allowed to drop out of sight. Mr. Farrer calls attention to the fact that in the 37th article of the English Church, which is to the effect that a Christian at the command of the magistrate may wear weapons and serve in wars, the word _justa_ in the Latin form preceding the word _bella_ has been omitted altogether.[89] [Footnote 85: _Catechism of the Council of Trent_, iii. 6. 5.] [Footnote 86: Adds and Arnold, _Catholic Dictionary_, p. 944.] [Footnote 87: Gibb, _loc. cit._ p. 90.] [Footnote 88: _Augsburg Confession_, i. 16. _Second Helvetic Confession_, xxx. 4.] [Footnote 89: Farrer, _Military Manners and Customs_, p. 208.] {360} Nor did the old opinion that war is a providential institution and a judgment of God die with the Middle Ages. Lord Bacon looks upon wars as "the highest trials of right; when princes and states that acknowledge no superior upon earth shall put themselves upon the justice of God, for the deciding of their controversies by such success as it shall please Him to give on either side."[90] Réal de Curban says that a war is seldom successful unless it be just, hence the victor may presume that God is on his side.[91] According to Jeremy Taylor, "kings are in the place of God, who strikes whole nations, and towns, and villages; and war is the rod of God in the hands of princes."[92] And it is not only looked upon as an instrument of divine justice, but it is also said, generally, "to work out the noble purposes of God."[93] Its tendency, as a theological writer assures us, is "to rectify and exalt the popular conception of God," there being nothing among men "like the smell of gunpowder for making a nation perceive the fragrance of divinity in truth."[94] By war the different countries "have been opened up to the advance of true religion."[95] "No people ever did, or ever could, feel the power of Christian principle growing up like an inspiration through the national manhood, until the worth of it had been thundered on the battle-field."[96] War is, "when God sends it, a means of grace and of national renovation"; it is "a solemn duty in which usually only the best Christians and most trustworthy men should be commissioned to hold the sword."[97] According to M. Proudhon, it is the most sublime phenomenon of our moral life,[98] a divine revelation more authoritative than the Gospel itself.[99] The warlike people is the religious people;[100] war is the sign of {361} human grandeur, peace a thing for beavers and sheep. "Philanthrope, vous parlez d'abolir la guerre; prenez garde de dégrader le genre humain."[101] [Footnote 90: Bacon, _Letters and Life_, i. (_Works_, viii.), 146.] [Footnote 91: Réal de Curban, _La science du gouvernement_, v. 394 _sq._] [Footnote 92: Taylor, _Whole Works_, xii. 164.] [Footnote 93: 'The Sword and Christianity,' in _Boston Review devoted to Theology and Literature_, iii. 261.] [Footnote 94: _Ibid._ iii. 259, 257.] [Footnote 95: Holland, _Time of War_, p. 14.] [Footnote 96: _Boston Review_, iii. 257.] [Footnote 97: 'Christianity and War,' in _Christian Review_, xxvi. 604.] [Footnote 98: Proudhon, _La guerre et la paix_, ii. 420.] [Footnote 99: _Ibid._i.62; ii. 435.] [Footnote 100: _Ibid._ i. 45.] [Footnote 101: _Ibid._ i. 43.] In order to prove the consistency of war with Christianity appeals are still, as in former days, made to the Bible; to the divinely-sanctioned example of the ancient Israelites, to the fact that Jesus never prohibited those around Him from bearing arms, to the instances of the centurions mentioned in the Gospel, to St. Paul's predilection for taking his spiritual metaphors from the profession of the soldier, and so on.[102] According to Canon Mozley, the Christian recognition of the right of war was contained in Christianity's original recognition of nations.[103] "By a fortunate necessity," a universal empire is impossible.[104] Each nation is a centre by itself, and when questions of right and justice arise between these independent centres, they cannot be decided except by mutual agreement or force. The aim of the nation going to war is exactly the same as that of the individual in entering a court, and the Church, which has no authority to decide which is the right side, cannot but stand neutral and contemplate war forensically, as a mode of settling national questions, which is justified by the want of any other mode.[105] A natural justice, Canon Mozley adds, is inherent not only in wars of self-defence; there is an instinctive reaching in nations and masses of people after alteration and readjustment, which has justice in it, and which arises from real needs. The arrangement does not suit as it stands, there is want of adaptation, there is confinement and pressure; there are people kept away from each other that are made to be together, and parts separated that were made to join. All this uneasiness in States naturally leads to war. Moreover, there are wars of progress which, so far as they are really necessary for the due advantage of mankind and {362} growth of society, are approved of by Christianity, though they do not strictly belong to the head of wars undertaken in self-defence.[106] A doctrine which thus, in the name of religion, allows the waging of wars for rectifying the political distribution of nationalities and races, and forwarding the so-called progress of the world, naturally lends itself to the justification of almost any war entered upon by a Christian State.[107] As a matter of fact, it would be impossible to find a single instance of a war waged by a Protestant country, from any motive, to which the bulk of its clergy have not given their sanction and support. The opposition against war has generally come from other quarters. [Footnote 102: See _e.g._, Browne, _Exposition of the Thirty-Nine Articles_, p. 827 _sq._; _Christian Review_, xxvi. 603 _sq._; _Eclectic Magazine_, xiii. 372.] [Footnote 103: Mozley, 'On War,' in _Sermons preached before the University of Oxford_, p. 119.] [Footnote 104: _Ibid._ p. 112.] [Footnote 105: _Ibid._ p. 100 _sqq._] [Footnote 106: _Ibid._ 104 _sq._] [Footnote 107: On the principle of progress, Canon Mozley himself justifies (_ibid._ p. 110 _sq._) not only the wars undertaken against two Eastern empires which have shut themselves up and excluded themselves from the society of mankind, but "two of the three great European wars of the last dozen years." This was said in 1871.] There have been, and still are, Christian sects which, on religious grounds, condemn war of any kind. In the fourteenth century the Lollards taught that homicide in war is expressly contrary to the New Testament; they were persecuted partly on that account.[108] Of the same opinion were the Anabaptists of the sixteenth century; and they could claim on their side the words of men like Colet and Erasmus. From the pulpit of St. Paul's Colet thundered that "an unjust peace is better than the justest war," and that, "when men out of hatred and ambition fight with and destroy one another, they fight under the banner, not of Christ, but of the Devil."[109] According to Erasmus "nothing is more impious, more calamitous, more widely pernicious, more inveterate, more base, or in sum more unworthy of a man, not to say of a Christian," than war. It is worse than brutal; to man no wild beast is more destructive than his fellow-man. When brutes fight, they fight with weapons which nature has given them, whereas we arm ourselves for mutual slaughter with weapons which nature never thought of. Neither do beasts break out {363} in hostile rage for trifling causes, but either when hunger drives them to madness, or when they find themselves attacked, or when they are alarmed for the safety of their young. But we, on frivolous pretences, what tragedies do we act on the theatre of war! Under colour of some obsolete and disputable claim to territory; in a childish passion for a mistress; for causes even more ridiculous than these, we kindle the flame of war. Transactions truly hellish, are called holy wars. Bishops and grave divines, decrepit as they are in person, fight from the pulpit the battles of the princes, promising remission of sins to all who will take part in the war of the prince, and exclaiming to the latter that God will fight for him, if he only keeps his mind favourable to the cause of religion. And yet, how could it ever enter into our hearts, that a Christian should imbrue his hands in the blood of a Christian! What is war but murder and theft committed by great numbers on great numbers! Does not the Gospel declare, in decisive words, that we must not revile again those who revile us, that we should do good to those who use us ill, that we should give up the whole of our possessions to those who take a part, that we should pray for those who design to take away our lives? The world has so many learned bishops, so many grey-headed grandees, so many councils and senates, why is not recourse had to their authority, and the childish quarrels of princes settled by their wise and decisive arbitration? "The man who engages in war by choice, that man, whoever he is, is a wicked man; he sins against nature, against God, against man, and is guilty of the most aggravated and complicated impiety."[110] These were the main arguments of reason, humanity, and religion, which Erasmus adduced against war. They could not leave the reformers entirely unaffected. Sir Thomas More charged Luther himself and his disciples with carrying the doctrines of peace to the extreme limits {364} of non-resistance.[111] But, as we have noticed, these peaceful tendencies only formed a passing phase in the history of Reformation, and were left to the care of sectarians. [Footnote 108: Perry, _History of the English Church_, First Period, pp. 455, 467.] [Footnote 109: Green, _History of the English People_, ii. 93.] [Footnote 110: Erasmus, _Adagia_, iv. 1, col. 893 _sqq._] [Footnote 111: Farrer, _Military Manners and Customs_, p. 185.] Among these the Quakers are the most important. By virtue of various passages in the Old and the New Testament,[112] they contend that all warfare, whatever be its peculiar features, circumstances, or pretexts, is wholly at variance with the Christian religion. It is always the duty of Christians to obey their Master's high and holy law--to suffer wrong, to return good for evil, to love their enemies. War is also inconsistent with the Christian principle that human life is sacred, and that death is followed by infinite consequences. Since man is destined for eternity, the future welfare of a single individual is of greater importance than the merely temporal prosperity of a whole nation. When cutting short the days of their neighbour and transmitting him, prepared or unprepared, to the awful realities of an everlasting state, Christians take upon themselves a most unwarrantable responsibility, unless such an action is expressly sanctioned by their divine Master, as was the case among the Israelites. In the New Testament there is no such sanction, hence it must be concluded that, under the Christian dispensation, it is utterly unlawful for one man to kill another, under whatever circumstances of expediency or provocation the deed may be committed. And a Christian who fights by the command of his prince, and in behalf of his country, not only commits sin in his own person, but aids and abets the national transgression.[113] [Footnote 112: _Isaiah_, ch. ii. _sqq._ _Micah_, iv. 1 _sqq._ _St. Matthew_, v. 38 _sqq._; xxvi. 52. _St. Luke_, vi. 27 _sqq._ _St. John_, xviii. 36. _Romans_, xii. 19 _sqq._ _1 Peter_, iii. 9.] [Footnote 113: Gurney, _Views & Practices of the Society of Friends_, p. 375 _sqq._] It must be added that views similar to these are also found independently of any particular form of sectarianism. According to Dr. Wayland, all wars, defensive as well as offensive, are contrary to the revealed will of God, aggression from a foreign nation calling not for retaliation and {365} injury, but rather for special kindness and good-will.[114] Theodore Parker, the Congregational minister, looks upon war as a sin, a corrupter of public morals, a practical denial of Christianity, a violation of God's eternal love.[115] W. Stokes, the Baptist, observes that Christianity cannot sanction war, whether offensive or defensive, because war is an "immeasurable evil, by hurling unnumbered myriads of our fellow-men to a premature judgment and endless despair."[116] Moreover, those who compare the state of opinion during the last years with that of former periods, cannot fail to observe a marked progress of a sentiment antagonistic to war in the various sections of the Christian Church.[117] Yet, speaking generally, the orthodox are still of the same opinion as Sir James Turner, who declared that "those who condemn the profession or art of soldiery, smell rank of Anabaptism and Quakery";[118] and war is in our days, as it was in those of Erasmus,[119] so much sanctioned by authority and custom, that it is deemed impious to bear testimony against it. The duties which compulsory military service imposes upon the male population of most Christian countries presuppose that a Christian should have no scruples about taking part in any war waged by the State, and are recognised as binding by the clergy of those countries. With reference to the Church of England, Dr. Thomas Arnold asks, "Did it become a Christian Church to make no other official declaration of its sentiments concerning war, than by saying that Christian men might lawfully engage in it?"[120] [Footnote 114: Wayland, _Elements of Moral Science_, pp. 375, 379.] [Footnote 115: Parker, _Sermon of War_, p. 23.] [Footnote 116: Stokes, _All War inconsistent with the Christian Religion_, p. 41.] [Footnote 117: _Cf._ Gibb, _loc. cit._ p. 81.] [Footnote 118: Turner, _Pallas Armata_, p. 369.] [Footnote 119: Erasmus, _op. cit._ iv. 1. 1. col. 894.] [Footnote 120: Arnold, _On the Church_, p. 136.] The protest against war which exercised perhaps the widest influence on public opinion came from a school of moralists whose tendencies were not only anti-orthodox, but distinctly hostile to the most essential dogmas of Christian theology. Bayle, in his Dictionary, calls Erasmus' essay {366} against war one of the most beautiful dissertations ever written.[121] He observes that the more we consider the inevitable consequences of war, the more we feel disposed to detest those who are the causes of it.[122] Its usual fruits may, indeed, "make those tremble who undertake or advise it, to prevent evils which, perhaps, may never happen and which, at the worst, would often be much less than those which necessarily follow a rupture."[123] To Voltaire war is an "infernal enterprise," the strangest feature of which is that "every chief of the ruffians has his colours consecrated, and solemnly prays to God before he goes to destroy his neighbour."[124] He asks what the Church has done to suppress this crime. Bourdaloue preached against impurity, but what sermon did he ever direct against the murder, rapine, brigandage, and universal rage, which desolate the world? "Miserable physicians of souls, you declaim for five quarters of an hour against the mere pricks of a pin, and say no word on the curse which tears us into a thousand pieces."[125] Voltaire admits that under certain circumstances war is an inevitable curse, but rebukes Montesquieu for saying that natural defence sometimes involves the necessity of attack, when a nation perceives that a longer peace would place another nation in a position to destroy it.[126] Such a war, he observes, is as illegitimate as possible:--" It is to go and kill your neighbour for fear that your neighbour, who does not attack you, should be in a condition to attack you; that is to say, you must run the risk of ruining your country, in the hope of ruining without reason some other country; this is, to be sure, neither fair nor useful."[127] The chief causes which induce men to massacre in all loyalty thousands of their brothers and to expose their own people to the most terrible misery, are the ambitions and {367} jealousies of princes and their ministers.[128] Similar views are expressed in the great Encyclopédie:--"La guerre est le plus terrible des fléaux qui détruisent l'espèce humaine: elle n'épargne pas même les vainqueurs; la plus heureuse est funeste. . . . Ce ne sont plus aujourd'hui les peuples qui déclarent la guerre, c'est la cupidité des rois qui leur fait prendre les armes; c'est l'indigence qui les met aux mains de leurs sujets."[129] [Footnote 121: Bayle, _Dictionnaire historique et critique_, vi. 239, art. Erasme.] [Footnote 122: _Ibid._ ii. 463, art. Artaxata.] [Footnote 123: _Ibid._ i. 472, art. Alting (Henri).] [Footnote 124: Voltaire, _Dictionnaire philosophique_, art. Guerre (_[OE]uvres complètes_, xl. 562).] [Footnote 125: _Ibid._ p. 564.] [Footnote 126: Montesquieu, _De l'esprit des lois_, x. 2 (_[OE]uvres complètes_, p. 256).] [Footnote 127: Voltaire, _loc. cit._ p. 565.] [Footnote 128: _Ibid._ pp. 466, 564. For Voltaire's condemnation of war, see Morley, _Voltaire_, p. 311 _sq._ I have availed myself of Lord Morley's translation of some of the passages quoted.] [Footnote 129: _Encyclopédie méthodique_, Art militaire, ii. 618 _sq._] However vehemently Voltaire and the Encyclopedists condemned war, they did not dream of a time when all wars would cease. Other writers were more optimistic. Already in 1713 Abbé Saint-Pierre--whose abbotship involved only a nominal connection with the Church--had published a project of perpetual peace, which was based on the idea of a general confederation of European nations.[130] This project was much laughed at; Voltaire himself calls its author "un homme moitié philosophe, moitié fou." But once called into being, the idea of a perpetual peace and of a European confederation did not die. It was successively conceived by Rousseau,[131] Bentham,[132] and Kant.[133] But on the other hand it met with a formidable enemy in the awakening spirit of nationalism. [Footnote 130: Saint-Pierre, _Projet de Traité pour rendre la paix perpétuelle entre les souverains Chrétiens_.] [Footnote 131: Rousseau, _Extrait du Projet de paix perpétuelle, de M. l'Abbé de Saint-Pierre_ (_[OE]uvres complètes_, i. 606 _sqq._).] [Footnote 132: Bentham, _A Plan for an universal and perpetual Peace_ (_Works_, ii. 546 _sqq._).] [Footnote 133: Kant, _Zum ewigen Frieden._] The Napoleonic oppression called forth resistance. Philosophers and poets sounded the war trumpet. The dream of a universal monarchy was looked upon as absurd and hateful, and the individuality of a nation as the only possible security for its virtue.[134] War was no longer attributed to the pretended interests of princes or to the caprices of their advisers. It was praised as a vehicle of the highest right,[135] as a source or national renovation.[136] {368} By war, says Hegel, "finite pursuits are rendered unstable, and the ethical health of peoples is preserved. Just as the movement of the ocean prevents the corruption which would be the result of perpetual calm, so by war people escape the corruption which would be occasioned by a continuous or eternal peace."[137] Similar views have been expressed by later writers. War is glorified as a stimulus to the elevated virtues of courage, disinterestedness, and patriotism.[138] It has done more great things in the world than the love of man, says Nietzsche.[139] It is the mother of art and of all civil virtues, says Mr. Ruskin.[140] Others defend war, not as a positive good, but as a necessary means of deciding the most serious international controversies, denying that arbitration can be a substitute for all kinds of war. Questions which are intimately connected with national passions and national aspirations, and questions which are vital to a nation's safety, will never, they say, be left to arbitration. Each State must be the guardian of its own security, and cannot allow its independence to be calmly discussed and adjudicated upon by an external tribunal.[141] Moreover, arbitration would prove effective only where the contradictory pretensions could be juridically formulated, and these instances are by far the less numerous and the less important.[142] And would it not, in many cases, be impossible to find impartial arbiters? Would not arbitration often be influenced by a calculation of the forces which every power interested could bring into the field, and would not war be resorted to where arbitration failed to reconcile conflicting interests, or where a decision was opposed to a high-spirited people's sense of justice? These and similar arguments are constantly adduced against the idea of a perpetual peace. But at the same time the opponents of war are becoming more numerous {369} and more confident every day. Already after the fall of Napoleon, when there was a universal longing for peace in the civilised world, the first Peace Societies were formed;[143] and the idea of Saint-Pierre, from being the dream of a philosopher, has become the object of a popular movement which is rapidly increasing in importance. There is every reason to believe that, when the present high tide of nationalism has subsided, and the subject of war and peace is no longer looked upon from an exclusively national point of view, the objections which are now raised against arbitration will at last appear almost as futile as any arguments in favour of private war or blood-revenge. There is an inveterate tendency in the human mind to assume that existing conditions will remain unchanged. But the history of civilisation shows how unfounded any such assumption is with reference to those conditions which determine social relationships and the extent of moral rights and duties. [Footnote 134: Fichte, _Reden an die deutsche Nation_. _Cf._ _Idem_, _Ueber den Begriff des wahrhaften Krieges_.] [Footnote 135: Arndt, quoted by Jähns, _Krieg, Frieden und Kultur_, p. 302.] [Footnote 136: Anselm von Feuerbach, _Unterdrückung und Wiederbefreiung Europens_.] [Footnote 137: Hegel, _Grundlinien der Philosophie des Rechts_, § 324, p. 317 (English translation, p. 331).] [Footnote 138: See, _e.g._, Mabille, _La Guerre_, p. 139.] [Footnote 139: Nietzsche, _Also sprach Zarathustra_, i. 63.] [Footnote 140: Ruskin, _Crown of Wild Olive_, Lecture on War (_Works_, vi. 99, 105).] [Footnote 141: Lawrence, _op. cit._ p. 275 _sq._ Sidgwick, 'Morality of Strife,' in _International Journal of Ethics_, i. 13.] [Footnote 142: Geffken, quoted by Jähns, _op. cit._ p. 352, n. 2.] [Footnote 143: Jähns, _op. cit._ p. 307 _sq._] It is said that, though Christianity has not abolished war, it has nevertheless, even in war, asserted the principle that human life is sacred by prohibiting all needless destruction. The Canon, 'De treuga et pace,' laid down the rule that non-resisting persons should be spared;[144] and Franciscus a Victoria maintained not only that between Christian enemies those who made no resistance could not lawfully be slain,[145] but that even in war against the Turks it was wrong to kill children and women.[146] However, this doctrine of mercy was far in advance of the habits and general opinion of the time.[147] If the simple peasant was often spared, that was largely from motives of prudence,[148] or because the valiant knight considered him unworthy of the lance.[149] As late as the seventeenth century, Grotius was certainly not supported by the spirit of the age when he argued that, "if justice {370} do not require, at least mercy does, that we should not, except for weighty causes tending to the safety of many, undertake anything which may involve innocent persons in destruction";[150] or when he recommended enemies willing to surrender on fair conditions, or unconditionally, to be spared.[151] Afterwards, however, opinion changed rapidly. Pufendorf, in echoing the doctrine of Grotius,[152] spoke to a world which was already convinced; and in the eighteenth century Bynkershoek stands alone in giving to a belligerent unlimited rights of violence.[153] In reference to the assumption that this change of opinion is due to the influence of the Christian religion, it is instructive to note that Grotius, in support of his doctrine, appealed chiefly to pagan authorities, and that even savage peoples, without the aid of Christianity, have arrived at the rule which in war forbids the destruction of helpless persons and captives. [Footnote 144: Gregory IX. _Decretales_, i. 34. 2.] [Footnote 145: Franciscus a Victoria, _op. cit._ vi. 13, 35, 48; pp. 232, 241, 246 _sq._] [Footnote 146: _Ibid._ vi. 36, p. 241.] [Footnote 147: Hall, _Treatise on International Law_, p. 395, n. 1.] [Footnote 148: d'Argentré, _L'histoire de Bretagne_, p. 391.] [Footnote 149: Mills, _op. cit._ p. 132.] [Footnote 150: Grotius, _op. cit._ iii. 11. 8.] [Footnote 151: _Ibid._ iii. 11. 14 _sqq._] [Footnote 152: Pufendorf, _De jure naturæ et gentium_, viii. 6. 8, p. 885.] [Footnote 153: van Bynkershoek, _Questiones juris publici_, i. 1, p. 31: "Omnis enim vis in bello justa est." Hall, _Treatise on International Law_, p. 395, n. 1.] The prevailing attitude towards war indicates the survival, in modern civilisation, of the old feeling that the life of a foreigner is not equally sacred with the life of a countryman. In times of peace this feeling is usually suppressed; it appears in no existing law on homicide, nor does it, generally, find expression in public opinion. It dares to disclose itself only in the form of national aggressiveness, under the flag of patriotism, or, perhaps, in the treatment of the aborigines of some distant country. The behaviour of European colonists towards coloured races only too often reminds us of the manner in which savages treat members of a foreign tribe. It was said that the frontier peasants at the Cape found nothing morally wrong in the razzias which they undertook against the Bushmans, without any provocation whatsoever, though they would consider it a heinous sin to do the same to their Christian fellow-men.[154] In Australia {371} there are instances reported of young colonists employing the Sunday in shooting blacks for the sake of sport. "The life of a native," says Mr. Lumholtz, "has but little value, particularly in the northern part of Australia, and once or twice colonists offered to shoot blacks for me so that I might get their skulls. On the borders of civilisation men would think as little of shooting a black man as a dog. The law imposes death by hanging as the penalty for murdering a black man, but people live so far apart in these uncivilised regions that a white man may in fact do what he pleases with the blacks. . . . In the courts the blacks are defenceless, for their testimony is not accepted. The jury is not likely to declare a white man guilty of murdering a black man. On the other hand if a white man happens to be killed by the blacks, a cry is heard throughout the whole colony."[155] [Footnote 154: Waitz, _Introduction to Anthropology_, p. 314.] [Footnote 155: Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 346 _sqq._ See also Mathew, in _Jour. & Proceed. Roy. Soc. N. S. Wales_, xxiii. 390; Breton, _Excursions in New South Wales_, p. 200 _sq._; Stokes, _Discoveries in Australia_, ii. 459 _sqq._] CHAPTER XVI HOMICIDE IN GENERAL (_concluded_) IN the last two chapters we have only been concerned with the statement of facts; we shall now make an attempt to explain those facts. What is the source of the moral commandment, "Thou shalt not kill"? And what is the cause of its original narrowness and of its subsequent extension? Mr. Spencer suggests that the taking of life was regarded as a wrong done to the family of the dead man or to the society of which he was a member, before it came to be conceived of as a wrong done to the murdered man himself.[1] But considering the mutual sympathy which prevails in small savage communities, it seems extremely probable that sympathetic resentment felt on account of the injury suffered by the victim has from the beginning been a potent cause of the condemnation of homicide. Savages, no less than civilised mankind, practically regard a man's life as his highest good. Whatever opinions may be held about the existence after death, whatever blessings may be supposed to await the disembodied soul, nobody likes to be hurried into that existence by another's will. According to early beliefs, the soul of a murdered man is furious with the person who slew him, and finds no rest until his death has been avenged.[2] His friends and comrades pity his fate and {373} feel resentment on his behalf; whereas, in a state of culture where sympathy is restricted to a narrow group of people, no such resentment will be felt if the victim is a member of another group. On the contrary, when he is regarded as an actual or potential enemy, or when the slaying of him is taken for a test of courage, the manslayer will be applauded by his own people, and his deed will be styled good or meritorious. In some cases superstition, also, is an encouragement to extra-tribal homicide. The Kukis believe that, in paradise, all the enemies whom a man has killed will be in attendance on him as slaves.[3] A similar belief partly lies at the bottom of the custom of head-hunting;[4] whilst, according to other notions, the soul of the man whose head is procured is transformed into a guardian spirit.[5] A Kayan chief said of the custom in question, "It brings us blessings, plentiful harvests, and keeps off sickness and pains; those who were once our enemies, hereby become our guardians, our friends, our benefactors."[6] Now, progress in civilisation is generally marked by an expansion of the altruistic sentiment; and this largely explains why the prohibition of homicide has come to embrace more and more comprehensive circles of men, and finally, in the most advanced cases, the whole human race. [Footnote 1: Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, ii.] [Footnote 2: See _infra_, on Blood-revenge.] [Footnote 3: Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 46.] [Footnote 4: Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, ii. 141.] [Footnote 5: Wilken, _Het animisme bij de volken van den Indischen Archipel_, p. 124.] [Footnote 6: Furness, _Home-Life of Borneo Head-Hunters_, p. 59.] But whilst homicide is censured as a wrong done to the person slain, it is at the same time viewed as an injury inflicted upon the survivors. It deprived his friends of his company, his family and community of a useful member. In Arabia, when a man was killed, his tribesmen, instead of mentioning his name, used to say, "Our blood has been spilt."[7] According to Lafitau, the loss of a single person seemed to the North American Indians a subject or great regret, because it weakened the family.[8] {374} Among the Basutos, again, murder is condemned "as a violation of the sacred rights of a father, who is deprived of the services of his son, or of a widow and orphans, who are left without support."[9] Especially when a person is considered more or less the property of another, the taking of his life is largely looked upon as an offence against the owner. Mr. Warner states of the Kafirs, "All homicide must . . . be atoned for; the principle assumed being, that the persons of individuals are the property of the Chief, and that having been deprived of the life of a subject, he must be compensated for it."[10] We meet with a somewhat similar notion in the history of English legislation. In his book on the Commonwealth of England, Thomas Smith observes, "Attempting to impoison a man, or laying a waite to kill a man, though hee wound him dangerously, yet if death follow not, it is no fellony by the law of England, for the Prince hath lost no man, and life ought to be giuen we say for life only."[11] In the Middle Ages homicide was conceived as a breach of the "King's peace"; and both before and afterwards it has been stigmatised as a disturbance of public tranquillity and an outrage on public safety. In the Anglo-Saxon _wer_ and _wite_ we find a clear distinction between the private and public aspects of homicide.[12] [Footnote 7: Robertson Smith, _Marriage and Kinship in Early Arabia_, p. 26.] [Footnote 8: Lafitau, _M[oe]urs des sauvages ameriquains_, ii. 163.] [Footnote 9: Casalis, _Basutos_, p. 224 _sq._] [Footnote 10: Warner, in Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws_, p. 60 _sq._] [Footnote 11: Thomas Smith, _Common-wealth of England_, p. 194 _sq._] [Footnote 12: _Cf._ Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the Time of Edward I._ i. 48.] A manslayer not only causes a loss to the group which he deprives of a member, but he also may give trouble to his own people, who, in consequence, disapprove of his act. Among the Yahgans of Tierra del Fuego, says Mr. Bridges, "many things conspire to make the shedding of blood a fearful thing. A murderer imperils all his friends and connections more or less, and consequently estranges them from himself. This state of things is the greatest safeguard to human life we can conceive."[13] Among the Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush, "the mere killing of an {375} individual is looked upon as a small affair, provided that he does not belong to the tribe, or to another near tribe with which it is at peace, for in the latter case it might result in war."[14] [Footnote 13: Bridges, in _South American Missionary Magazine_, xiii. 153.] [Footnote 14: Scott Robertson, _Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 194.] We have still to notice the common idea that a manslayer is unclean. The ghost of the victim persecutes him, or actually cleaves to him like a miasma; and he must undergo rites of purification to get rid of the infection. Until this is done, he is among many peoples regarded as a source of danger, and is consequently cut off from free intercourse with his fellows. Among the Ponka Indians Mr. Dorsey found the belief that a murderer is surrounded by the ghosts, who keep up a constant whistling; that he can never satisfy his hunger, though he eat much food; and that he must not be allowed to roam at large lest high winds arise.[15] Of the warriors among certain North American Indians Adair wrote that, "as they reckon they are become impure by shedding human blood," they hasten to observe a fast of three days.[16] Among the Natchez, according to Charlevoix, "those who for the first time have made a prisoner or taken off a scalp, must, for a month, abstain from seeing their wives, and from eating flesh. They imagine, that if they should fail in this, the souls of those whom they have killed or burnt, would effect their death, or that the first wound they should receive would be mortal; or at least, that they should never gain any advantage over their enemies."[17] The Kafirs and Bechuanas practise various ceremonies of purification after their fights.[18] The Basutos say, "Human blood is heavy, it prevents him who has shed it from running away."[19] They consider it necessary that, on return from battle, "the warriors should rid themselves, as soon as possible, of the blood they have shed, or the shades of their victims would pursue them incessantly and disturb their slumbers"; hence they go in full armour to the nearest stream, and, as a rule, at the moment they enter the water a diviner, placed {376} higher up, throws some purifying substances into the current.[20] Among the Bantu Kavirondo, "when a man has killed an enemy in warfare he shaves his head on his return home, and his friends rub 'medicine' (generally the dung of goats) over his body to prevent the spirit of the deceased from worrying the man by whom he has been slain."[21] Among the Ja-luo, a warrior who has slain an enemy not only shaves his hair, but, after entering the village, prepares a big feast to propitiate the man he has killed so that his ghost may not give trouble.[22] Among the Wagogo of German East Africa, the father of a young warrior who has shed blood gives to his son a goat "to clean his sword."[23] After the slaughter of the Midianites, those Israelites who had killed any one, or touched the slain, had to remain outside the camp for seven days, purifying themselves and everything in their possession either by water, or fire, or both.[24] So, also, if a person had been slain in the land of Israel, and the perpetrator of the deed could not be detected, the elders of the city which was next unto the slain had to undergo a ceremony of purification in order to rid the city of "the guilt of innocent blood.[25] According to the Laws of Manu, a person who has unintentionally killed a Brâhmana shall make a hut in the forest and dwell in it during twelve years;[26] in order to remove the guilt he shall throw himself thrice headlong into a blazing fire,[27] or walk against the stream along the whole course of the river Sarasvatî,[28] or shave off all his hair.[29] The ancient Greeks believed that one who had suffered a violent end, when newly dead, was angry with the author of his death.[30] The blood-guilty individual, as though infected with a miasma, shunned all contact and conversation with other people, and avoided entering their dwellings.[31] Even the involuntary manslayer had to leave the country for some time; according to Plato's 'Laws,' he "must go out of the way of his victim for the entire period of a year, and not let himself be found in any spot which was familiar to him throughout the country."[32] {377} Nor must he return to his land until sacrifice had been offered and ceremonies of purification performed.[33] [Footnote 15: Dorsey, 'Siouan Cults,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xi. 420.] [Footnote 16: Adair, _History of the American Indians_, p. 388.] [Footnote 17: Charlevoix, _Voyage to North America_, ii. 203.] [Footnote 18: Arbousset and Daumas, _Exploratory Tour to the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope_, p. 394 _sqq._ Alberti, _De Kaffers aan de Zuidkust van Afrika_, p. 104.] [Footnote 19: Casalis, _op. cit._ p. 309.] [Footnote 20: _Ibid._ p. 258.] [Footnote 21: Johnston, _Uganda Protectorate_, ii. 743 _sq._] [Footnote 22: _Ibid._ ii. 794.] [Footnote 23: Cole, 'Notes on the Wagogo of German East Africa,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxii. 321.] [Footnote 24: _Numbers_, xxxi. 19 _sqq._] [Footnote 25: _Deuteronomy_, xxi. 1 _sq._] [Footnote 26: _Laws of Manu_, xi. 73.] [Footnote 27: _Ibid._ xi. 74.] [Footnote 28: _Ibid._ xi. 78.] [Footnote 29: _Ibid._ xi. 79.] [Footnote 30: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 865.] [Footnote 31: Müller, _Dissertations on the Eumenides of Æschylus_, p. 103. Aeschylus says (Eumenides, 448 _sqq._) it is the custom that a murderer should not speak anything until he has been sprinkled with the spurted blood of a slain sucking-pig. _Cf._ Apollonius Rhodius, _Argonautica_, iv. 700 _sqq._; Aristotle, _De republica Atheniensium_, 57.] [Footnote 32: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 865.] [Footnote 33: Demosthenes, _Contra Aristocratem_, 71 _sqq._, p. 643 _sq._ Müller, _Dissertations_, p. 106 _sq._ Frazer, _Golden Bough_, i. 341. On the uncleanness of manslayers see also Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, ii. 433 _sq._; Frazer, _op. cit._ i. 331 _sqq._] The state of uncleanness incurred by the shedding of human blood does not intrinsically involve moral guilt. As appears from many of the instances just referred to, it results not only from the murder of a tribesman, but from so meritorious a deed as the slaying of a foe. In Nukahiva, for instance, a man who has killed the highest person, or one of the highest, among the enemy, is tabooed for ten days, during which he is not allowed to hold intercourse with his wife nor to meddle with fire; but, at the same time, he is treated with distinction, and presents of pigs are brought to him.[34] On the other hand, there can be no doubt that in various cases the polluting effect attributed to manslaughter has exercised some influence upon the moral judgment of the act. Whenever the commission of an act of homicide has any tendency at all to call forth moral blame, the disapproval of the deed will easily be enhanced by the spiritual danger attending on it, as also by the inconvenient restrictions laid on the tabooed manslayer and the ceremonies of purification to which he is subject. The deprivations which he has to undergo come to be looked upon in the light of a punishment, and the rights of cleansing as a means of removing guilt. The taboo rules which, among the Omahas, a murderer whose life was spared had to observe for a period varying from two to four years are spoken of by Mr. Dorsey as his "punishment," and this seems also partly to have been the native point of view. The murderer sometimes wandered at night, crying, and lamenting his offence, until, at the end of the designated period, the kindred of his victim heard his crying, and said:--"It is enough. Begone, and walk among the crowd. {378} Put on moccasins and wear a good robe."[35] Moreover, the notion of a persecuting ghost may be replaced by the notion of an avenging god. Confusions are common in the world of mystery; doings or functions attributed to one being are afterwards transferred to another--this is a rule of which many important examples will be given in following chapters. The Jbâla of Northern Morocco do not nowadays believe in ghosts, yet they regard a person who has shed human blood to be in some degree unclean for the rest of his life. Poison oozes out from underneath his nails; hence anybody who drinks the water in which he has washed his hands will fall dangerously ill. The meat of an animal which he has killed is difficult to digest, and so is any food eaten in his company. If he comes to a place where people are digging a well, the water will at once run away. He is said to be _mejnûn_, haunted by _jnûn_ (_jinn_), a race of beings entirely distinct from men, living or dead. The Greenlanders believed that an abortion or a child born under concealment was transformed into an evil spirit called _ángiaq_, for the purpose of avenging the crime.[36] In Eastern Central Africa, "after killing a slave, the master is afraid of _Chilope_. This means that he will become emaciated, lose his eye-sight, and ultimately die a miserable death. He therefore goes to his chief and gives him a certain fee (in cloth, or slaves, or such legal tenders), and says, 'Get me a charm (_luasi_), because I have slain a man.' When he has used this charm, which may be either drunk or administered in a bath, the danger passes away."[37] Among the Omahas the ghost of the murdered man was not lost sight of; the murderer "was obliged to pitch his tent about a quarter of a mile from the rest of the tribe when they were going on the hunt lest the ghost of his victim should raise a high wind, which might cause damage." But at the same time his deed was considered offensive to {379} Wakanda; no one wished to eat with him, for they said, "If we eat with whom Wakanda hates, for his crime, Wakanda will hate us."[38] In the Chinese books there are numerous instances of persons haunted by the souls of their victims on their death-bed, and in most of these cases the ghosts state expressly that they are avenging themselves with the special authorisation of Heaven.[39] The Greek belief in the Erinys of a murdered man no doubt originated in the earlier notion of a persecuting ghost, whose anger or curses in later times were personified as an independent spirit.[40] And the transformation went further still: the Erinyes were represented as the ministers of Zeus, who by punishing the murderer carried out his divine will. Zeus was considered the originator of the rites of purification; when visited with madness by the Erinyes, Ixion appealed to Zeus Hikesios, and at the altar of Zeus Meilichios Theseus underwent purification for the shedding of kindred blood.[41] Originally, as it seems, only the murder of a kinsman was an offence against Zeus and under the ban of the Erinyes, but later on their sphere of action was expanded, and all bloodshed, if the victim had any rights at all within the city, became a sin which needed purification.[42] Uncleanness was thus transformed into spiritual impurity. When the pollution with which a manslayer is tainted is regarded as merely the work of a ghost or of some spirit-substitute who, like the Moorish _jnûn_, has nothing to do with the administration of justice, it may be devoid of all moral significance in spite of the dread it inspires; but the case is different when it comes to be conceived of as a divine punishment, or as a sin-pollution in the eyes of the supreme god. Such a transformation of ideas could hardly take place {380} unless the act, considered polluting, were by itself apt to evoke moral disapproval. But it is obvious that the gravity of the offence is increased by the religious aspect it assumes. [Footnote 34: von Langsdorf, _Voyages and Travels_, i. 133.] [Footnote 35: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 369.] [Footnote 36: Rink, _Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo_, pp. 45, 439 _sq._] [Footnote 37: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 168.] [Footnote 38: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 369.] [Footnote 39: de Groot, _Religious System of China_, (vol. iv. book) ii. 441.] [Footnote 40: See Müller, _Dissertations_, p. 155 _sqq._; Rohde, _Psyche_, p. 247; _Idem_, 'Paralipomena,' in _Rheinisches Museum für Philologie_, 1895, p. 6 _sqq._] [Footnote 41: Farnell, _Cults of the Greek States_, i. 66 _sqq._ Rohde, _Psyche_, p. 249. _Idem_, in _Rheinisches Museum_, 1895, p. 18. Stengel, _Die griechischen Kultusaltertümer_, p. 140.] [Footnote 42: Farnell, _op. cit._ i. 68, 71. Rohde, _Psyche_, p. 247.] In yet another way the defiling effect attributed to the taking of human life has had an influence on religious and moral ideas. Such defilement is shunned not only by men, but, in a still higher degree, by gods. The shedding of human blood is commonly prohibited in sacred places. "In almost every Indian nation," says Adair, "there are several peaceable towns, which are called 'old-beloved,' 'ancient, holy, or white towns'; they seem to have been formerly 'towns of refuge,' for it is not in the memory of their oldest people, that ever human blood was shed in them; although they often force persons from thence, and put them to death elsewhere."[43] The Aricaras of the Missouri, according to Bradbury, have in the centre of the largest village a sacred lodge called the "medicine lodge," which, "in one particular corresponds with the sanctuary of the Jews, as no blood is on any account whatsoever to be spilled within it, not even that of an enemy."[44] At Athens the prosecution for homicide began with debarring the criminal from all sanctuaries and assemblies consecrated by religious observances.[45] According to Greek ideas, purification was an essential preliminary to an acceptable sacrifice.[46] Hector said, "I shrink from offering a libation of gleaming wine to Zeus with hands unwashed; nor can it be in any way wise that one should pray to the son of Kronos, god of the storm-cloud, all defiled with blood {381} and filth."[47] In many parts of Morocco, a man who has slain another person is never afterwards allowed to kill the sacrificial sheep at the "Great Feast."[48] When David had in his heart to build a temple, God said to him, "Thou shalt not build a house for my name, because thou hast been a man of war, and **hast shed blood."[49] A decree of the penitential discipline of the Christian Church, which was enforced even against emperors and generals, forbade anyone whose hands had been imbrued in blood to approach the altar without a preparatory period of penance.[50] [Footnote 43: Adair, _History of the American Indians_, p. 159.] [Footnote 44: Bradbury, _Travels in the Interior of America_, p. 165 _sq._ Our informer adds, "Nor is any one, having taken refuge there, to be forced from it"; but with facts of this kind we are not concerned at present. They belong to the right of sanctuary, in the strict sense of the term, and, as will be seen, this right is based on a different principle, which prevents even the polluted manslayer, tainted with newly shed blood, from being dragged out of the sanctuary to which he has fled in the capacity of a suppliant.] [Footnote 45: Aristotle, _De republica Atheniensium_, 57. Müller, _Dissertations_, p. 103.] [Footnote 46: Donaldson, 'Expiatory and Substitutionary Sacrifices of the Greeks,' in _Transactions Roy. Soc. Edinburgh_, xxvii. 433. Farnell, _op. cit._ i. 72.] [Footnote 47: _Iliad_, vi. 266 _sqq._ _Cf._ Vergil, _Æneis_, ii. 717 _sqq._] [Footnote 48: I found this custom prevalent both among Arab and Berber tribes in different parts of the country; see my article, "The Popular Ritual of the Great Feast in Morocco," in _Folk-Lore_, xxii. 144.] [Footnote 49: _1 Chronicles_, xxviii. 2 _sq._] [Footnote 50: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 39.] Whilst, from fear of contaminating anything holy, casual restrictions have thus been imposed on all kinds of manslayers, whether murderers or those who have killed an enemy in righteous warfare, more stringent rules have been laid down for persons permanently connected with the religious cult. Adair states that the "holy men" of the North American Indians, like the Jewish priests, were by their function absolutely forbidden to shed human blood, "notwithstanding their propensity thereto, even for small injuries."[51] Herodotus says of the Persian Magi that they "kill animals of all kinds with their own hands, excepting dogs and men."[52] The Druids of Gaul never went to war,[53] probably in order to keep themselves free from blood-pollution;[54] it is true, they sacrificed human victims to their gods, but those they burnt.[55] To the same class of facts belong those decrees of the Christian Church which forbade clergymen taking part in a battle. Moreover, if a Christian priest passed a sentence of death {382} he was punished with degradation and imprisonment for life;[56] nor was he allowed to write or dictate anything with a view to bringing about such a sentence.[57] He must not perform a surgical operation by help of fire or iron.[58] And if he killed a robber in order to save his life, he had to do penance till his death.[59] The hands which had to distribute the blood of the Lamb of God were not to be polluted with the blood of those for whose salvation it was shed.[60] [Footnote 51: Adair, _op. cit._ p. 152.] [Footnote 52: Herodotus, i. 40. The Shluh of Southern Morocco and some other Berber tribes, in the central parts of the same country, consider that not only homicide, but the killing of a dog for ever after prevents a person from performing sacrifice at the "Great Feast"; see _Folk-Lore_, xxii, 144.] [Footnote 53: Cæsar, _De bello gallico_, vi. 14.] [Footnote 54: d'Arbois de Jubainville, _Civilisation des Celtes_, p. 254.] [Footnote 55: Cæsar, _De bello gallico_, vi. 16.] [Footnote 56: Gratian, _Decretum_, ii. 23. 8. 30.] [Footnote 57: _Concilium Lateranense IV._, A.D. 1215, ch. 18 (Labbe-Mansi, _Sacrorum Conciliorum collectio_, xxii. 1007).] [Footnote 58: _Concilium Lateranense IV._, A.D. 1215, ch. 18 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ xxii. 1007).] [Footnote 59: Thomassin, _Dictionnaire de discipline ecclésiastique_, ii. 1074.] [Footnote 60: _Ibid._ ii. 1069.] It cannot be doubted that this horror of blood-pollution had a share in that regard for human life which from the beginning, and especially in early times, was a characteristic of Christianity. But in other respects also, Christian feelings and beliefs had an inherent tendency to evoke such a sentiment. The cosmopolitan spirit of the Christian religion could not allow, in theory at least, that the life of a man was less sacred because he was a foreigner. The extraordinary importance it attached to this earthly life as a preparation for a life to come naturally increased the guilt of any one who, by cutting it short, not only killed the body, but probably to all eternity injured the soul.[61] In a still higher degree than most other crimes, homicide was regarded as an offence against God, because man had been made in His image.[62] Gratian says that even the slayer of a Jew or a heathen has to undergo a severe penance, "quia imaginem Dei et spem futuræ conversionis exterminat."[63] [Footnote 61: _Concilium Lugdumense I._, A.D. 1245, Additio, de Homicidio (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ xxiii. 670).] [Footnote 62: von Eicken, _Geschichte und System der Mittelalterlichen Weltanschauung_, p. 568.] [Footnote 63: Gratian, _Decretum_, i. 50. 40.] CHAPTER XVII THE KILLING OF PARENTS, SICK PERSONS, CHILDREN--FETICIDE WE have found that among mankind at large there is a moral rule which forbids people to kill members of their own society. We shall now see that the stringency of this rule is subject to variations, depending on the special relationship in which persons stand to one another or on their social _status_, and that there are cases to which it does not apply at all. Owing to the regard which children are expected to feel for their parents, parricide is considered the most aggravated form of murder. Nowhere have parents been more venerated by their children than among the nations of archaic culture, and nowhere has parricide been regarded with greater horror. In China it is punished with the most ignominious of all capital punishments, the so-called "cutting into small pieces"; and in some instances, when the crime has occurred in a district, in addition to all punishments inflicted on persons, the wall of the city where the deed was committed is pulled down in parts, or modified in shape, a round corner is substituted for a square one, or a gate removed to a new situation, or even closed up altogether.[1] In Corea the parricide is burned to death.[2] {384} Among the ancient Egyptians, we are told, he was sentenced to be lacerated with sharpened reeds, and after being thrown on thorns he was burned.[3] In Exodus we read of the "smiting" of parents, but parricide is not expressly mentioned, perhaps because the Hebrew legislator, like Solon at Athens,[4] did not think it possible that any one could be guilty of so unnatural a barbarity.[5] Herodotus states that the same notion was held by the ancient Persians, who said that no one ever yet killed his own father or mother, and that all cases of so-called parricide if carefully examined, would be found to have been committed by supposititious children or those born in adultery, it being beyond the bounds of probability that a true father should be murdered by his own son.[6] Plato says in his 'Laws':--"If a man could be slain more than once, most justly would he who in a fit of passion has slain father or mother undergo many deaths. How can he whom, alone of all men, even in defence of his life, and when about to suffer death at the hands of his parents, no law will allow to kill his father or his mother who are the authors of his being, and whom the legislator will command to endure any extremity rather than do this--how can he, I say, lawfully receive any other punishment?"[7] At Athens parricides were the only persons accused of murder who were not allowed the chance of escaping before sentence was passed, but were instantly arrested.[8] According to Roman Law, a committer of _parricidium_ was not subjected to any of the regular modes of capital punishment, but for "the most execrable of crimes" was provided "the most strange of punishments." The criminal was sewn up in a leathern sack with a cur, a cock, a viper, and an ape, and, when cooped up in this fearful prison, was hurled into the sea, or into {385} some neighbouring river.[9] But by the term _parricidium_ was not understood the murder of a parent only. According to the 'Lex Pompeia de parricidiis,' it included the murder of any of the following persons: an ascendant or descendant in any degree,[10] a brother or sister, an uncle or aunt, a cousin, a husband or wife, a bridegroom or bride, a father- or mother-in-law, a son- or daughter-in-law, a step-parent or step-child, a patron; and Mommsen suggests that in earlier times it had a still wider significance, being applied to intentional homicide in general.[11] But whilst the punishment just referred to was in other cases of _parricidium_ replaced by banishment, it was, during the Empire at least, actually inflicted upon him who murdered an ascendant.[12] [Footnote 1: Doolittle, _Social Life of the Chinese_, i. 338 _sq._ Smith, _Chinese Characteristics_, p. 229.] [Footnote 2: Griffis, _Corea_, p. 236.] [Footnote 3: Diodorus Siculus, _Bibliotheca historica_, i. 77. 8.] [Footnote 4: Diogenes Laërtius, _Solon_, 10. Cicero, _Pro S. Roscio Amerino_, 25. Orosius, _Historiæ_, v. 16.] [Footnote 5: _Exodus_, xxi. 15. _Cf._ Keil, _Manual of Biblical Archæology_, ii. 376.] [Footnote 6: Herodotus, i. 137.] [Footnote 7: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 869. _Cf._ _ibid._ ix. 873.] [Footnote 8: Müller, _Dissertations on the Eumenides of Æschylus_, p. 91. _Cf._ Euripides, _Orestes_, 442 _sqq._] [Footnote 9: _Institutiones_, iv. 18. 6.] [Footnote 10: Unless the descendant was in the _potestas_ of him who committed the deed.] [Footnote 11: Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, pp. 644, 645, 612 _sq._] [Footnote 12: _Ibid._ p. 645 _sq._] Whilst Christianity generally increased the sanctity of human life, it could add nothing to the horror with which parricide was regarded by the ancients. The Church punished it more severely than ordinary murder,[13] and so did, at least in Latin countries, the secular authorities.[14] In France, even to this day, a person convicted of parricide is "conduit sur le lieu de l'exécution en chemise, nu-pieds, et la tête couverte d'un voile noir";[15] and whilst _meurtre_ is excusable if provoked by grave personal violence or by an attempt to break into a dwelling-house by day, parricide is never excusable under any circumstances.[16] [Footnote 13: Gregory III., _Judicia congrua p[oe]nitentibus_, ch. 3 (Labbe-Mansi, _Conciliorum collectio_, xii. 289). _P[oe]nitentiale Bigotianum_, iv. 1 (Wasserschleben, _Bussordnungen der abendländischen Kirche_, p. 453). _P[oe]nitent. Pseudo-Theodori_, xxi. 18 (_ibid._ p. 588).] [Footnote 14: Chauveau and Hélie, _Théorie du Code Pénal_, iii. 394 (France). Salvioli, _Manuale di storia del diritto italiano_, p. 570. In Scotland, also, parricide formerly had a place in the list of aggravated murders (Hume, _Commentaries on the Law of Scotland_, i. 459 _sq._; for a sentence passed in 1688, see Pitcairn, _Criminal Trials in Scotland_, iii. 198); though nowadays it is penalised in the same way as other forms of murder (Erskine, _Principles of the Law of Scotland_, p. 559). There never was any special punishment for parricide in English law (Blackstone, _Commentaries on the Laws of England_, iv. 202. Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, iii. 95).] [Footnote 15: _Code Pénal_, art. 13.] [Footnote 16: _Ibid._ art. 321 _sqq._] {386} As regards the feelings with which ordinary parricide is looked upon by uncivilised peoples, direct information is almost entirely wanting. It is rarely mentioned at all, no doubt because it is very unusual.[17] Among the Kafirs of Natal, though murder is generally punished by a fine, death is inflicted on him who kills a parent.[18] Among the Ossetes a parricide draws upon himself a fearful punishment: he is shut up in his house with all his possessions, surrounded by the populace and burned alive.[19] To judge from the respect which, among the majority of uncivilised peoples, children are considered to owe to their parents, it seems very probable that the murder of a father or a mother is generally condemned by them as a particularly detestable form of homicide. But to this rule there is an important exception. According to a custom prevalent among various savages or barbarians, a parent who is worn out with age or disease is abandoned or killed. [Footnote 17: Among the Omahas there have been a few cases of parricide caused by drunkenness (Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 369). A Chukchi killed his father for charging him with cowardice and awkwardness (Sarytschew, 'Voyage of Discovery,' in _Collection of Modern and Contemporary Voyages_, vi. 51). In Lánda "it is no uncommon thing for a son to murder his father in order to step into his shoes" (_Emin Pasha in Central Africa_, p. 230). See also Wilson and Felkin, _Uganda_, i. 224.] [Footnote 18: Shooter, _Kafirs of Natal_, p. 103.] [Footnote 19: von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 415.] Hearne states that, among the Northern Indians, one half at least of the aged persons of both sexes, when no longer capable of walking, are left alone to starve and perish of want.[20] Among the Californian Gallinomero, when the father can no longer feebly creep to the forest to gather his back-load of fuel or a basket of acorns, and is only a burden to his sons, "the poor old wretch is not infrequently thrown down on his back and securely held while a stick is placed across his throat, and two of them seat themselves on the ends of it until he ceases to breathe."[21] The custom of killing or abandoning old parents has been noticed among several other North {387} American tribes,[22] the natives of Brazil,[23] various South Sea Islanders,[24] a few Australian tribes,[25] and some peoples in Africa[26] and Asia.[27] According to ancient writers, it occurred formerly among many Asiatic[28] and European nations, including the Vedic people[29] and peoples of Teutonic extraction.[30] As late as the fifth or sixth century it was the custom among the Heruli for relatives to kindle a funeral pile for their old folks, although a stranger was employed to give the death wound.[31] And there is an old English tradition of "the Holy Mawle, which they fancy hung behind the church door, which when the father was seaventie, the sonne might fetch to knock his father in the head, as effete and of no more use."[32] [Footnote 20: Hearne, _Journey to the Northern Ocean_, p. 346.] [Footnote 21: Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 178.] [Footnote 22: Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 331 (natives on the east coast of Greenland). Seemann, _Voyage of "Herald,"_ ii. 66 (Eastern Eskimo). Catlin, _North American Indians_, i. 217. Lafitau, _M[oe]urs des sauvages ameriquains_, i. 488 _sq._ Domenech, _Seven Years' Residence in the Great Deserts of North America_, ii. 325 (north-western tribes). Lewis and Clarke, _Travels to the Source of the Missouri River_, p. 442 (Dacotahs, Assiniboins, the hunting tribes on the Missouri).] [Footnote 23: von Martius, _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 126, 127, 393. von Eschwege, _Brasilien_, i. 231 _sq._ (Uerequenás). Among the Fuegians the practice in question seems to occur only accidentally (Bridges, in _A Voice for South America_, xiii. 206).] [Footnote 24: Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 347. Romilly, _Western Pacific_, p. 70 (Solomon Islanders). Brainne, _Nouvelle-Calédonie_, p. 255. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 335 _sq._ (Efatese). Seemann, _Viti_, p. 192 _sq._ Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, pp. 116, 157 _sq._ Angas, _Polynesia_, p. 342 (natives of Kunaie).] [Footnote 25: Eyre, _Central Australia_, ii. 382. Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 62 (tribes in Western Victoria).] [Footnote 26: Arnot, _Garenganze_, p. 78 n. Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 197 _sq._ (Damaras). Kolben, _Present Stale of the Cape of Good Hope_, i. 322, 334; Hahn, _The Supreme Being of the Khoi-Khoi_, p. 86 (Hottentots). Lepsius, _Letters from Egypt_, p. 202 _sq._ (Negro tribes to the south of Kordofan). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 298 _sq._ Sartori, 'Die Sitte der Alten- und Krankentötung,' in _Globus_, lxvii. 108.] [Footnote 27: Hooper, _Ten Months among the Tents of the Tuski_, p. 188 _sq._; Dall, _Alaska_, p. 383 _sqq._ (Chukchi). Rockhill, _Land of the Lamas_, p. 81 (Kokonor Tibetans).] [Footnote 28: Herodotus, i. 216 (Massagetae). Strabo, xi. 8. 6 (Massagetae); xi. 11. 3 (Bactrians); xi. 11. 8 (Caspians).] [Footnote 29: Zimmer, _Altindisches Leben_, p. 328.] [Footnote 30: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 486 _sqq._] [Footnote 31: Procopius, _De bello gothico_, ii. 14. _Cf._ Grimm, _Kleinere Schriften_, ii. 241.] [Footnote 32: Thoms, _Anecdotes and Traditions_, p. 84.] However cruel this custom may appear to be, something is certainly to be said in its favour. It is particularly common among nomadic hunting tribes, owing to the hardships of life and the inability of decrepit persons to keep up in the march. Mr. Morgan observes that, whilst {388} "among the roving tribes of the wilderness the old and helpless were frequently abandoned and, in some cases, hurried out of existence as an act of greater kindness than desertion," this practice was unknown among the Iroquois, who "resided in permanent villages, which afforded a refuge for the aged."[33] With reference to certain tribes of Western Victoria, Mr. Dawson remarks that the old people are a burden to the tribe, and, should any sudden attack be made by an enemy, the most liable to be captured, in which case they would probably be tortured and put to a lingering death.[34] Moreover, in times when the food-supply is insufficient to support all the members of a community, it is more reasonable that the old and useless should have to perish than the young and vigorous. Hahn was told that, among the Hottentots, aged parents were sometimes abandoned by very poor people who had not food enough to support them.[35] And among peoples who have reached a certain degree of wealth and comfort, the practice of killing the old folks, though no longer justified by necessity, may still go on, partly through survival of a custom inherited from harder times, partly from the humane intent of putting an end to lingering misery.[36] What appears to most of us as an atrocious practice may really be an act of kindness, and is commonly approved of, or even insisted upon, by the old people themselves. Speaking of the ancient Hottentot custom of famishing super-annuated parents in order to cause their death, Kolben remarks:--"If you represent to the Hottentots, as I have done very often, the inhumanity of this custom, they are astonished at the representation, as proceeding, in their opinion, from an inhumanity of your own. The custom, in their way of thinking, is supported by very pious and very filial considerations. 'Is it not a cruelty.' they ask you, 'to suffer either man or woman to languish any considerable {389} time under a heavy, motionless old age? Can you see a parent or a relative shaking and freezing under a cold, dreary, heavy, useless old age, and not think, in pity to them, of putting an end to their misery by putting, which is the only means, an end to their days?'"[37] When Mr. Hooper, hearing of an old Chukchi woman who was stabbed by her son, made some remarks on the frightful nature of the act, his native companions answered him:--"Why should not the old woman die? Aged and feeble, weary of life, and a burden to herself and others, she no longer desired to cumber the earth, and claimed of him who owned nearest relationship the friendly stroke which should let out her scanty remnant of existence."[38] Catlin tells us that, among the North American tribes who roamed about the prairies, the infirm old people themselves uniformly insisted upon being left behind, saying, "that they are old and of no further use--that they left their fathers in the same manner--that they wish to die, and their children must not mourn for them."[39] In Melanesia, says Dr. Codrington, when sick and aged people were buried alive, it is certain that "there was generally a kindness intended"; they used themselves to beg their friends to put them out of their misery, and it was even considered a disgrace to the family of an aged chief if he was not buried alive.[40] In Fiji, also, it was regarded as a sign of filial affection to put an aged parent to death. In his description of the Fijians Dr. Seemann observes, "In a country where food is abundant, clothing scarcely required, and property as a general rule in the possession of the whole family rather than that of its head, children need not wait for 'dead men's shoes' in order to become well off, and we may, therefore, quite believe them when declaring that it is with aching heart and at the repeated entreaties of their parents that they are induced to commit {390} what we justly consider a crime."[41] The ceremony is not without a touch of tragic grandeur:--"The son will kiss and weep over his aged father as he prepares him for the grave, and will exchange loving farewells with him as he heaps the earth lightly over him."[42] One reason why the old Fijian so eagerly desired to escape extreme infirmity was perhaps "the contempt which attaches to physical weakness among a nation of warriors, and the wrongs and insults which await those who are no longer able to protect themselves"; but another, and as it seems more potent, motive was the belief that persons enter upon the delights of the future life with the same faculties, mental and physical, as they possess at the hour of death, and that the spiritual life thus commences where the corporeal existence terminates. "With these views," "says Dr. Hale, "it is natural that they should desire to pass through this change before their mental and bodily powers are so enfeebled by age as to deprive them of their capacity for enjoyment."[43] Finally, we have to observe that in many cases the old people are not only killed, but eaten, by the nearest relatives, and that the motive, or at least, the sole motive, for this procedure is not hunger or desire for human flesh.[44] It is described as "an act of kindness" or as a "pious ceremony," as a method of preventing the body from being eaten up by worms or injured by enemies.[45] Considering that many cannibals have an aversion to the bodies of men who have died a natural death, it is not unreasonable to suppose that, in some instances, the old person is killed for the purpose of being eaten, and that this is done with a view to benefiting him.[46] But, on the other hand, the "pious ceremony," like so many other funeral customs which are supposed to comfort the dead, may be the survival of a practice which was originally intended to promote the selfish interests of the living. [Footnote 33: Morgan, _League of the Iroqnois_, p. 171.] [Footnote 34: Dawson, _op. cit._ p. 62.] [Footnote 35: Hahn, _op. cit._ p. 86.] [Footnote 36: Tylor, 'Primitive Society,' in _Contemporary Review_, xxi. 705. _Idem_, _Anthropology_, p. 410 _sq._] [Footnote 37: Kolben, _op. cit._ i. 322.] [Footnote 38: Hooper, _op. cit._ p. 188 _sq._ _Cf._ Sarytschew, _loc. cit._ vi. 50; Dall, _op. cit._ p. 385; von Wrangell, _Expedition to the Polar Sea_, p. 122.] [Footnote 39: Catlin, _North American Indians_, i. 217.] [Footnote 40: Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 347. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 335 _sq._ (Efatese).] [Footnote 41: Seemann, _Viti_, p. 193.] [Footnote 42: Fison and Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 175.] [Footnote 43: Hale, _op. cit._ p. 65. Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 156. See also Erskine, _Islands of the Western Pacific_, p. 248.] [Footnote 44: For instances, see Steinmetz, _Endokannibalismus_, _passim_.] [Footnote 45: _Ibid._ pp. 3, 5, 17.] [Footnote 46: _Cf._ Herodotus' statement regarding the Massagetae, i. 216.] {391} Closely connected with the custom of doing away with decrepit parents is the habit, prevalent among certain peoples, of abandoning or killing persons suffering from some illness. "The white man," Mr. Ward observes, "can never, as long as he may live in Africa, conquer his repugnance to the callous indifference to suffering that he meets with everywhere in Arab and Negro. The dying are left by the wayside to die. The weak drop on the caravan road, and the caravan passes on."[47] Among the Kafirs instances are not rare in which the dying are carried to the bush and left to perish, and among some of them epileptics are cast over a precipice, or tied to a tree to be devoured by hyenas.[48] The Hottentots abandon patients suffering from small-pox.[49] The southern Tanàla in Madagascar take a person who becomes insensible during an illness, to the spot in the forest where they throw their dead, and should the unfortunate creature so cast away revive and return to the village, they stone him outright to death.[50] In New Caledonia "il est rare qu'un malade rend naturellement le dernier soupir: quand il n'a plus sa connaissance, souvent même avant son agonie, on lui ferme la bouche et les narines pour l'étouffer, ou bien on le tiraille de tous côtés par les jambes et par les bras."[51] In Kandavu, of the Fiji Group, sick persons were often thrown into a cave, where the dead also were deposited.[52] In Efate, if a person in sickness showed signs of delirium, his grave was dug, and he was buried forthwith, to prevent the disease from spreading to other members of the family.[53] The Alfura "kill their sick when they have no hope of their recovery."[54] Dobrizhoffer says of the Patagonians, "Actuated by an irrational kind of pity, they bury the dying before they expire."[55] In cases of cholera or small-pox epidemics, North American Indians have been known to desert their villages, leaving all their sick behind, of whatever age or sex.[56] According to Dr. Nansen, it is not inconsistent with the moral code of the Greenlanders "to hasten the death of those {392} who are sick and in great suffering, or of those in delirium, of which they have a great horror."[57] Lieutenant Holm states that, in Eastern Greenland, when an individual is seriously ill, he consents, if his relatives request it, to end his sufferings by throwing himself into the sea; whereas it is rare that a sick person is put to death, except in cases of disordered intellect.[58] At Igloolik "a sick woman is frequently built or blocked up in a snow-hut, and not a soul goes near to look in and ascertain whether she be alive or dead."[59] [Footnote 47: Ward, _Five Years with the Congo Cannibals_, p. 262.] [Footnote 48: Shooter, _Kafirs of Natal_, p. 238 _sq._ Kidd, _The Essential Kafir_, p. 247.] [Footnote 49: Le Vaillant, _Travels into the Interior Parts of Africa_, ii. 112.] [Footnote 50: Sibree, _The Great African Island_, p. 291.] [Footnote 51: Brainne, _op. cit._ p. 255.] [Footnote 52: Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 159.] [Footnote 53: Turner, _Samoa_, p. 336.] [Footnote 54: Pfeiffer, _A Lady's Second Journey round the World_, i. 387.] [Footnote 55: Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, ii. 262.] [Footnote 56: Domenech, _op. cit._ ii. 326.] [Footnote 57: Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 163.] [Footnote 58: 'East Greenland Eskimo,' in _Science_, vii. 172.] [Footnote 59: Lyon, _Private Journal_, p. 357. For other instances, see Sartori, in _Globus_, lxvii. nr. 7 _sq._; von Martius, _op. cit._ i. 126, 127, 393 (Brazilian tribes); Steller, _Beschreibung von dem Lande Kamtschatka_, p. 354; Dawson, _op. cit._ p. 61, quoted _supra_, p. 271.] These and similar facts are largely explained by the pitiful condition of the invalid, the hardships of a wandering life, and the superstitious notions of ignorant men. In some cases the practice of killing a dying person seems to be connected with a belief that the death-blow will save his soul.[60] In 1812, a leper was burnt alive at Katwa, near Calcutta, by his mother and sister, who believed that by their doing so he would gain a pure body in the next birth.[61] By carrying the patient away before he dies, the survivors escape the supposed danger of touching a corpse.[62] In the poorer provinces of the kingdom of Kandy, when a sick person was despaired of, the fear of becoming defiled, or of being obliged to change their habitation, frequently induced those about him to take him into a wood, in spite of his cries and groans, and to leave him there, perhaps in the agonies of death.[63] But the most common motive for abandoning or destroying sick people seems to be fear of infection or of demoniacal possession, which is regarded as the cause of various diseases.[64] Among the North American Indians, we are told, "the custom of abandoning the infirm or sick arose {393} from a superstitious fear of the evil spirits which were supposed to have taken possession of them."[65] In Tahiti, says Ellis, "every disease was supposed to be the effect of direct supernatural agency, and to be inflicted by the gods for some crime against the tabu, of which the sufferers had been guilty, or in consequence of some offering made by an enemy to procure their destruction. Hence, it is probable, in a great measure, resulted their neglect and cruel treatment of their sick."[66] [Footnote 60: Sartori, _loc. cit._ p. 127.] [Footnote 61: Crooke, _Popular Religion and Folk-Lore of Northern India_, ii. 169.] [Footnote 62: Shooter, _op. cit._ 239 (Kafirs of Natal). Kidd, _The Essential Kafir_, p. 247.] [Footnote 63: Joinville, 'Religion and Manners of the People of Ceylon,' in _Asiatick Researches_, vii. 437 _sq._] [Footnote 64: See Sartori, _loc. cit._ p. 110 _sq._; Lippert, _Kulturgeschichte der Menschheit_, i. 110; ii. 411.] [Footnote 65: Dorman, _Origin of Primitive Superstitions_, p. 392.] [Footnote 66: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 395.] * * * * * Whilst the regard which children owe their parents makes parricide an aggravated form of murder, the paternal power sometimes implies that, under certain circumstances, the father is allowed to kill even his grown-up child. Though the Chinese Penal Code provides a slight punishment for parents who punish disobedient children with death,[67] the crime is practically ignored by the authorities.[68] Among the Hebrews, in early times, a father might punish his incontinent daughter with death.[69] The Roman house-father had _jus vitæ necisque_--the power of life and death--over his children. However, this power did not imply that he could kill them without a just cause;[70] already in pagan times a father who killed his son "latronis magis quam patris jure," was punished as a murderer.[71] As Dean Milman observes, long before Christianity entered into Roman legislation, "the life of a child was as sacred as that of the parent; and Constantine, when he branded the murder of a son with the {394} name of parricide, hardly advanced upon the dominant feeling.[72] Nor is there any reason to suppose that, among savages, the father possesses an absolute right of life and death over his children. On the contrary, among many of the lower races the existence of such a right is expressly denied.[73] [Footnote 67: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cccxix. p. 347:--"If a father, mother, paternal grandfather or grandmother, chastises a disobedient child or grandchild in a severe and uncustomary manner, so that he or she dies, the party so offending shall be punished with 100 blows.--When any of the aforesaid relations are guilty of killing such disobedient child or grandchild designedly, the punishment shall be extended to 60 blows and one year's banishment."] [Footnote 68: Douglas, _Society in China_, p. 78 _sq._] [Footnote 69: _Genesis_, xxxviii. 24.] [Footnote 70: Mittermaier, 'Beyträge zur Lehre vom Verbrechen des Kindesmordes,' in _Neues Archiv des Criminalrechts_, vii. 4. Walter, _Geschichte des Römischen Rechts_, § 537, vol. ii. 147. von Jhering, _Geist des römischen Rechts_, ii. 220. Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 619.] [Footnote 71: _Digesta_, xlviii. 9. 5. Orosius, _Historiæ_, v. 16. Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 618.] [Footnote 72: Milman, _History of Latin Christianity_, ii. 25.] [Footnote 73: Lang, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse von eingeborenen Völkern in Afrika und Ozeanien_, p. 224 (Washambala). Desoignies, _ibid._ p. 271 (Msalala). Marx, _ibid._ p. 349 (Amahlubi). Kohler, 'Recht der Hottentotten,' in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xv. 347. Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 52 _sq._] But whilst a father only in rare cases, and then merely as a measure of justice, is allowed to put to death his grown-up child, he very frequently has the right of destroying a new-born infant. Nay, in many instances infanticide is not only permitted, but enjoined by custom. Among a great number of uncivilised peoples it is usual to kill an infant if it is a bastard,[74] or if its mother dies,[75] or if it is deformed or diseased,[76] or if there is anything unusual or uncanny about it, or if it for some reason or other is regarded as an unlucky child. In some parts of {395} Africa, for instance, a child who is born with teeth,[77] or who cuts the upper front teeth before the under,[78] or whose teeth present some other kind of irregularity,[79] is put to death. Among the natives of the Bondei country a child who is born head first is considered an unlucky child, and is strangled in consequence.[80] The Kamchadales used to destroy children who were born in very stormy weather;[81] and in Madagascar infants born in March or April, or in the last week of a month, or on a Wednesday or a Friday, were exposed or drowned or buried alive.[82] Among various savages it is the custom that, if a woman gives birth to twins, one or both of them are destroyed.[83] They are regarded sometimes as an indication of unfaithfulness on the part of the mother--in accordance with the notion that one man cannot be the father of two children at the same time[84]--sometimes as an evil portent or as the result of the wrath of a fetish.[85] Miss Kingsley observes, "There is always the sense of there being something uncanny regarding twins in West Africa, and in those tribes where they are not killed they are regarded {396} as requiring great care to prevent them from dying on their own account."[86] The Kafirs believe that unless the father places a lump of earth in the mouth of one of the babies he will lose his strength.[87] [Footnote 74: Turner, _Samoa_, p. 304 (Savage Islanders). Elton, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xvii. 93 (some Solomon Islanders). Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 145 (Beduan). Dyveyrier, _Exploration du Sahara_, p. 428 (Touareg). Burton, _Sindh_, p. 244 (Belochis). Haberland, 'Der Kindermord als Volkssitte,' in _Globus_, xxxvii. 58. The natives of Australia often kill half-caste children (Roth, _Ethnological Studies among the North-West-Central Queensland Aborigines_, p. 184. Curr, _Recollections of Squatting in Victoria_, p. 252. Haberland, _loc. cit._ p. 58).] [Footnote 75: Collins, _English Colony in New South Wales_, i. 607 _sq._ (aborigines of Port Jackson). Dale, 'Natives inhabiting the Bondei Country,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxv. 182. Comte de Cardi, 'Ju-Ju Laws and Customs in the Niger Delta,' _ibid._ xxix. 58. Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 330; Holm, 'Ethnologisk Skizze af Angmagsalikerne,' in _Meddelelser om Grönland_, x. 91 (Greenlanders). Haberland, _loc. cit._ p. 28 _sq._ Ploss, _Das Kind_, ii. 252, 254, 258 _sq._ Chamberlain, _Child and Childhood in Folk-Thought_, p. 110 _sq._] [Footnote 76: Dawson, _op. cit._ p. 39 (tribes of Western Victoria). Kicherer, quoted by Moffat, _Missionary Labours and Scenes in Southern Africa_, p. 15 (Bushmans). Shooter, _Kafirs of Natal_, p. 89. Chapman, _Travels in the Interior of South Africa_, ii. 285 (Banamjua). Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 244 (Equatorial Africans). New, _Life, Wanderings, and Labours in Eastern Africa_, p. 118; Krapf, _Travels_, p. 193 _sq._ (Wanika). Georgi, _Russia_, iii. 134 (Kamchadales). Sarytschew, _loc. cit._ vi. 50; von Wrangell, _op. cit._ p. 122 (Chukchi). Simpson, quoted by Murdoch, 'Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 417 (Eskimo). Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 382 (Yokuts). Guinnard, _Three Years' Slavery among the Patagonians_, p. 144. Haberland, _loc. cit._ p. 58 _sq._ Ploss, _Das Kind_, ii. 252, 254, 255, 258.] [Footnote 77: Ploss, _Das Kind_, ii. 257, 259.] [Footnote 78: Livingstone, _Missionary Travels_, p. 577. Kingsley, _Travels in West Africa_, p. 472. Allen and Thomson, _Expedition to the River Niger_, i. 243 _sq._ Mockler-Ferryman, _British Nigeria_, p. 286 (Ibos).] [Footnote 79: Baumann, _Usambara_, pp. 131 (Wabondei), 237 (Wapare).] [Footnote 80: Dale, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxv. 183.] [Footnote 81: Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, p. 217.] [Footnote 82: Ploss, _Das Kind_, ii. 257. _Cf._ Little, _Madagascar_, p. 60.] [Footnote 83: Dawson, _op. cit._ p. 39 (tribes of Western Victoria). Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 52. _Idem_, _Northern Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 609. Romilly, _Western Pacific_, p. 70 (Solomon Islanders). Kolben, _op. cit._ i. 144 (Hottentots). Shooter, _op. cit._ p. 88 (Kafirs of Natal). Livingstone, _Missionary Travels_, p. 577. Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, p. 160 (Matabele). Chapman, _op. cit._ ii. 285 (Banamjua). Baumann, _Usambara_, p. 131 (Wabondei). New, _op. cit._ pp. 118 (Wanika, formerly), 458 (Wadshagga). Burton, _Two Trips to Gorilla Land_, i. 84. Kingsley, _Travels in West Africa_, p. 472 _sqq._ Schoen and Crowther, _Journals_, p. 49 (Ibos on the Niger). Comte de Cardi, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxix. 57 _sq._ (Negroes of the Niger Delta). Nyendael, quoted by Ling Roth, _Great Benin_, p. 35 (people of Arebo). Ploss, _Das Kind_, ii. 267 _sq._ (African peoples), 274 (some South American Indians). Schneider, _Die Naturvölker_, i. 305 _sq._ (some South American Indians). Krasheninnikoff, _op. cit._ p. 217 (Kamchadales).] [Footnote 84: Waitz, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, iii. 394, 480 (South American Indians). Dapper says (_Africa_, p. 473) that no twins are ever found in the country of Benin, because the people considered it a great dishonour to give birth to twins.] [Footnote 85: Allen and Thomson, _op. cit._ i. 243. Baumann, _Usambara_, p. 131 (Wabondei).] [Footnote 86: Kingsley, _Travels in West Africa_, p. 473, According to Nyendael, twin-births are, on the contrary, esteemed good omens in most parts of the Benin territory (Ling Roth, _Great Benin_, p. 35).] [Footnote 87: Kidd, _The Essential Kafir_, p. 202.] In the instances just referred to, the infant is killed either because, after the death of its mother, there is nobody to nurse it, or on account of the fault of its parents, especially the mother, or because it is held desirable that the sickly or defective should die at once, or out of superstitious fear. However, among many of the lower races, infanticide is not restricted to similar more or less exceptional cases, but is practised on a much larger scale. Custom often decides how many children are to be reared in each family, and not infrequently the majority of infants are destroyed. Infanticide is common among various tribes in North and South America.[88] Dobrizhoffer says that it was a rare exception among the Abipones to find a woman who had brought up two or three sons, whilst some mothers killed all the children they bore, "no one either preventing or avenging these murders."[89] According to Azara, the Guanas buried alive the majority of their female infants, and the Mbayas suffered only one boy or one girl in a family to live;[90] but the correctness of his statements has been questioned.[91] On the other hand there can be no doubt as to the extreme prevalence of infanticide in the islands of the South Seas. In some of the principal groups of Polynesia it was practised publicly and systematically, without compunction, to an extent almost incredible. During the whole period of his residence in the Society Islands, Ellis does {397} not recollect having met with a single pagan woman who had not imbrued her hands in the blood of her offspring, and he thinks that there, as also in the Sandwich Islands, two-thirds of the children were destroyed by their parents.[92] "No sense of irresolution or horror," he says, "appeared to exist in the bosoms of those parents who deliberately resolved on the deed before the child was born. They often visited the dwellings of the foreigners, and spoke with perfect complacency of their cruel purpose"; and when the missionaries tried to dissuade them from executing their intention, the only answer generally received was that it was the custom of the country.[93] The Line Islanders allowed only four children of a family to get the chance of life; the mother had a right to rear one child, whereas it rested with the husband to decide whether any more should live.[94] In Radack every mother was permitted to bring up three children, but the fourth and every succeeding one she was obliged to bury alive herself, unless she was the wife of a chief.[95] In Vaitupu, of the Ellice Archipelago, also, "infanticide was ordered by law," and only two children were allowed to a family.[96] In New Zealand and the Marquesas infanticide, though not so general, was yet of frequent occurrence and not regarded as a crime.[97] In most of the Melanesian groups it was very common.[98] In the Solomon Islands there still seem to be several places where it is the custom to kill nearly all children soon after they are born, and to buy other children from foreign tribes, good care being taken not to buy them too young.[99] The practice of infanticide occurred at least occasionally in Tasmania,[100] and, as it seems, almost universally in Australia. Mr. Curr supposes that the Australian woman, as a rule, reared only two boys and one girl, the rest of her children being destroyed.[101] "In the laws known to her," says Mr. Brough Smyth, "infanticide is a necessary practice, and one which, if disregarded, would, under certain circumstances, be disapproved {398} of; and the disapproval would be marked by punishment."[102] Mr. Taplin was assured that, among the Narrinyeri, more than one-half of the children born fell victims to this custom;[103] and in the Dieyerie tribe hardly an old woman, if questioned, but will admit of having destroyed from two to four of her offspring.[104] [Footnote 88: Bessels, quoted by Murdoch, 'Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 417 (Eskimo of Smith Sound). Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' _ibid._ xviii. 289. Gibbs, 'Tribes of Western Washington and Northwestern Oregon,' in _Contributions to North American Ethnology_, i. 198. Powers, _op. cit._ pp. 177, 184 (Californian tribes). Yarrow, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ i. 99 (Pimas of Arizona), Hawtrey, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 295 (Lengua Indians of the Paraguayan Chaco).] [Footnote 89: Dobrizhoffer, _op. cit._ ii. 98. For another account of the infanticides of the Abipones, see _infra_, p. 400.] [Footnote 90: Azara, _Voyages dans l'Amérique méridionale_, ii. 93, 115.] [Footnote 91: Wied-Neuwied, _Reise nach Brasilien_, ii. 39.] [Footnote 92: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 252. _Idem_, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 325.] [Footnote 93: _Idem_, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 250.] [Footnote 94: Tutuila, 'Line Islanders,' in _Jour. Polynesian Society_, i. 267.] [Footnote 95: von Kotzebue, _Voyage of Discovery_, iii. 173.] [Footnote 96: Turner, _Samoa_, p. 284.] [Footnote 97: Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 15.] [Footnote 98: Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 229. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 333 (Efatese). Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, p. 213 (islands of Torres Straits). Atkinson, in _Folk-Lore_, xiv. 248 (New Caledonians).] [Footnote 99: Romilly, _Western Pacific_, p. 68 _sq._ _Cf._ Guppy, _Solomon Islands_, p. 42.] [Footnote 100: Ling Roth, _Aborigines of Tasmania_, p. 167 _sq._ Bonwick, _Daily Life and Origin of the Tasmanians_, p. 85. Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, ii. 386.] [Footnote 101: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 70.] [Footnote 102: Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ i. p. xxi. _Cf._ Oberländer, 'Die Eingeborenen der Kolonie Victoria,' in _Globus_, iv. 279.] [Footnote 103: Taplin, 'Narrinyeri,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 13.] [Footnote 104: Gason, 'Manners and Customs of the Dieyerie Tribe,' _ibid._ p. 259.] Among the Todas of India, up to the period of Mr. Sullivan's visit to their hills, about the year 1820, only one female child was allowed to live in each family.[105] With reference to the Kandhs, or Khonds, Macpherson observes, "The practice of female infanticide is, I believe, not wholly unknown amongst any portion of the Khond people, while it exists in some of the tribes of the sect of Boora to such an extent, that no female infant is spared, except when a woman's first child is a female, and that villages containing a hundred houses may be seen without a female child."[106] [Footnote 105: Metz, _Tribes inhabiting the Neilgherry Hills_, p. 16.] [Footnote 106: Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 132.] It is said that among the Guanches of the Canary Islands, in ancient times, all children, except the first-born, were killed.[107] The people of Madagascar frequently practised infanticide; but Ellis says that they were much less addicted to it than the South Sea Islanders, a numerous offspring being generally a source of much satisfaction.[108] According to Kolben, infanticide was common among the Hottentots;[109] whereas Sparrman only states that "the Hottentots are accustomed to inter, in case of the mother's death, children at the breast alive,"[110] and Le Vaillant altogether denies the existence of customary infanticide among them.[111] Among the Swahili, according to Baumann, infanticides are very common and hardly disapproved of.[112] But the peoples of the African continent are not generally addicted to infanticide, except in such special cases as have already come under our notice. [Footnote 107: Ploss, _Das Kind_, ii. 259 _sq._] [Footnote 108: Little, _Madagascar_, p. 60. Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 155, 160.] [Footnote 109: Kolben, _op. cit._ i. 333.] [Footnote 110: Sparrman, _Voyage to the Cape of Good Hope_, i. 358 _sq._] [Footnote 111: Le Vaillant, _op. cit._ ii. 58 _sqq._] [Footnote 112: Baumann, _Usambara_, p. 42.] The custom of infanticide, in its extensive form, has been attributed to various motives. Among some peoples mothers are said to kill their new-born infants on account {399} of the trouble of rearing them,[113] or the consequent loss of beauty.[114] Another cause is the long suckling time, generally lasting, among savages, for two, three, four years, or even more, owing to want of soft food and animal milk.[115] When, as is very commonly the case, the husband must not cohabit with his wife during the whole of this period,[116] he is naturally inclined to form other connections, and this seems in some instances to induce the mother to destroy her child.[117] In another respect, also, the long suckling-time is an inducement to infanticide; among certain Australian tribes an infant is killed immediately on birth "when the mother is, or thinks she is, unable to rear it owing to there being a young child whom she is still feeding."[118] Among the Pimas of Arizona, again, infanticide is said to be connected with the custom of destroying all the property of the husband when he dies. "The women of the tribe, well aware that they will be poor should their husbands die, and that then they will have to provide for their children by their own exertions, do not care to have many children, and infanticide, both before and after birth, prevails to a great extent. This is not considered a crime."[119] But there can be little doubt that the wholesale infanticide of many of the lower races is in the main due to the hardships of savage life. The helpless infant may be a great burden to the parents both in times of peace and in times of war. It may prevent the mother from following her husband about on his wanderings in search of food, or otherwise encumber her in her work.[120] Mr. Curr states of the Bangerang tribe of Victoria, with whom he was intimate for ten years, that their habit of killing nearly half {400} of the children born resulted "principally from the difficulty, if not the impossibility, of transporting several children of tender age from place to place on their frequent marches."[121] Concerning the Abipones, Charlevoix observes:--"They seldom rear but one child of each sex, murdering the rest as fast as they come into the world, till the eldest are strong enough to walk alone. They think to justify this cruelty by saying that, as they are almost constantly travelling from one place to another, it is impossible for them to take care of more infants than two at a time; one to be carried by the father, and the other by the mother."[122] Among the Lenguas of the Paraguayan Chaco an interval of seven or eight years is always observable between children of the same family, infants born in this interval being immediately killed. The reasons for this practice, says Mr. Hawtrey, are obvious. "The woman has the hard work of carrying food from garden and field, and all the transport to do; the Lenguas are a nomadic race, and their frequent moves often entail journeys of from ten to twenty miles a day. . . . Travelling with natives under these circumstances, one is forced to the conclusion that it would be impossible for a mother to have more than one young child to carry and to care for."[123] Moreover, a little forethought tells the parents that their child before long will become a consumer of provisions perhaps already too scanty for the family. Savages often suffer greatly from want of food, and may have to choose between destroying their offspring or famishing themselves. Hence they often have recourse to infanticide as a means of saving their lives; indeed, among several tribes, in case of famine, children are not only killed, but eaten.[124] Urgent want is frequently represented by our authorities as the main cause of infanticide;[125] and {401} their statements are corroborated by the conspicuous prevalence of this custom among poor tribes and in islands whose inhabitants are confined to a narrow territory with limited resources. [Footnote 113: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 256 (Tahitians). _Idem_, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 327. Polack, _Manners and Customs of the New Zealanders_, ii. 92. Gason, _loc. cit._ p. 258 (Dieyerie tribe).] [Footnote 114: Williams, _Missionary Enterprises_, p. 565 (Tahitians).] [Footnote 115: See Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 484.] [Footnote 116: _Ibid._ p. 483.] [Footnote 117: Schneider, _Die Naturvölker_, i. 297, 307.] [Footnote 118: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, pp. 51, 264. _Idem_, _Northern Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 608. Oberländer, _loc. cit._ p. 279.] [Footnote 119: Yarrow, _loc. cit._ p. 99.] [Footnote 120: Turner, _Nineteen Years in Polynesia_, p. 394 (people of Vaté, New Hebrides). Polack, _op. cit._ ii. 93 (Maoris).] [Footnote 121: Curr, _Squatting in Victoria_, p. 252. Oberländer, _loc. cit._ p. 279. _Cf._ Fison and Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 259; Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 5.] [Footnote 122: Charlevoix, _History of Paraguay_, i. 405.] [Footnote 123: Hawtrey, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 295.] [Footnote 124: See Steinmetz, _Endokannibalismus_, pp. 8, 13, 14, 17.] [Footnote 125: Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 330. Nelson, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 289 (Eskimo about Behring Strait). Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ i. 53; ii. 386 (aboriginal tribes of Australia and Tasmania), von Kotzebue, _op. cit._ iii. 173 (natives of Radack). Tutuila, in. _Jour. Polynesian Soc._ i. 263 (Line Islanders). Campbell, _Wild Tribes of Khondistan_, p. 140 (Kandbs of Sooradah). Marshall, _A Phrenologist amongst the Todas_, p. 194. Kolben, _op. cit._ i. 144 (Hottentots). See also Haberland, _loc. cit._ p. 26; Dimitroff, _Die Geringschätzung des menschlichen Lebens und ihre Ursachen bei den Naturvölkern_, p. 162 _sqq._; Sutherland, _Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct_, i. 115 _sqq._] In the chapter dealing with human sacrifice we shall notice that infanticide is in some cases practised as a sacrificial rite. In other cases infants are killed for medicinal purposes, without being sacrificed to any divine being.[126] Thus in the Luritcha tribe, in Central Australia, "it is not an infrequent custom, when a child is in weak health, to kill a younger and healthy one and then to feed the weakling on its flesh, the idea being that this will give to the weak child the strength of the stronger one."[127] A curious motive for female infanticide is also worth mentioning. That the victims of this practice are most commonly, among several peoples almost exclusively, females,[128] is generally due to the greater usefulness of the men both as food-providers and in war. But the Hakka, a Mongolian tribe in China, often put their girls to a cruel death with a view to inducing thereby the soul to appear the next time in the shape of a boy.[129] [Footnote 126: See _infra_, p. 458 _sq._] [Footnote 127: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 475. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 52.] [Footnote 128: _Cf._ Haberland, _loc. cit._ p. 56 _sqq._] [Footnote 129: Hubrig, quoted by Ploss, _Das Kind_, ii. 263.] Thus various considerations have led men to destroy their own offspring. Under certain circumstances the advantages, real or imaginary, assumed to result from the deed have been sufficiently great to silence the voice of parental love, which, as will be seen, is to be found even in the bosom of a savage father. The resistance offered by this instinct would be so much the less as the child is killed immediately after its birth, at a period of its life {402} when the father's affection for it is as yet only dawning Even where, at first, infanticide was an exception, practised by a few members of the tribe, any interference from the side of the community may have been prevented by the notion that a person possesses proprietary rights over his offspring; and, once become habitual, infanticide easily grew into a regular custom. In cases where it was found useful to the tribe, it would be enforced as a public duty; and even where there no longer was any need for it, owing to changed conditions of life, the force of habit might still keep the old custom alive. Though infanticide is thus regarded as allowable, or even obligatory, among many of the lower races, we must not suppose that they universally look upon it in this light. Mr. McLennan grossly exaggerated its prevalence when he asserted that female infanticide is "common among savages everywhere."[130] Among a great number of them it is said to be unheard of or almost so,[131] and to these belong peoples of so low a type as the Andaman Islanders,[132] the Botocudos,[133] and certain Californian tribes.[134] The Veddahs of Ceylon have never been known to practise it.[135] Among the Yahgans of Tierra del Fuego, Mr. Bridges informs me, it occurred only occasionally, and then it was almost always the deed of the mother, who acted from "jealousy, or hatred of her husband, or because of desertion and wretchedness."[136] Mr. Fison, who has lived for a long time among uncivilised races, thinks it will be found that infanticide is far less common among the lower savages than it is among the more advanced tribes.[137] Considering {403} further that the custom of infanticide, being opposed to the instinct of parental love, presupposes a certain amount of reasoning or forethought, it seems probable that, where it occurs, it is not a survival of earliest savagery, but has grown up under specific conditions in later stages of development.[138] It is, for instance, very generally asserted that certain Indians in California never committed infanticide before the arrival of the whites;[139] and Ellis thinks there is every reason to suppose that this custom was practised less extensively by the Polynesians during the early periods of their history than it was afterwards.[140] [Footnote 130: McLennan, _Studies in Ancient History_, p. 75.] [Footnote 131: See Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 312 _sq._; and, besides the authorities there referred to, Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 369; Kirke, _Twenty-five Years in British Guiana_, p. 160; Chalmers, _Pioneering in New Guinea_, p. 163; Hodgson, _Miscellaneous Essays_, p. 123 (Bódo and Dhimáls); Baumann, _Durch Massailand zur Nilquelle_, p. 161 (Masai).] [Footnote 132: Man, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 329.] [Footnote 133: Wied-Neuwied, _op. cit._ ii. 39. Keane, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xiii. 206.] [Footnote 134: Powers, _op. cit._ pp. 192, 271, 382.] [Footnote 135: Sarasin, _Ergebnisse naturwissenschaftlicher Forschungen auf Ceylon_, iii. 469, 539.] [Footnote 136: Bridges, in a letter dated Downeast, Tierra del Fuego, August 28th, 1888.] [Footnote 137: Fison and Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 134 _sqq._ _Cf._ Farrer, _Primitive Manners and Customs_, p. 224; Sutherland, _op. cit._ i. 114 _sq._] [Footnote 138: _Cf._ Darwin, _Descent of Man_, p. 594.] [Footnote 139: Powers, _op. cit._ p. 207. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 183.] [Footnote 140: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 249.] Where infanticide is not sanctioned by custom, the occasional commission of it has a tendency to call forth disapproval or excite horror. The Blackfeet are said to believe that women who have been guilty of this crime will never reach the happy mountain after death, but are compelled to hover round the seats of their crimes, with branches of trees tied to their legs.[141] Speaking of another North American tribe, the Potawatomis, Keating observes:--"In a few instances, it is said that children born deformed have been destroyed by their mothers, but these instances are rare, and whenever discovered, uniformly bring them into disrepute, and are not unfrequently punished by some of the near relations. Independently of these cases, which are but rare, a few instances of infanticide, by single women, in order to conceal intrigue, have been heard of; but they are always treated with abhorrence."[142] Among the Omahas "parents had no right to put their children to death."[143] The Aleuts believed that a child-murder would bring misfortune on the whole village.[144] The Brazilian Macusis[145] and Botocudos[146] look upon the deed with horror. At Ulea, {404} of the Caroline Islands, "the prince would have the unnatural mother punished with death."[147] So, too, Herr Valdau tells us of a Bakundu woman who, accused of infanticide, was condemned to death.[148] In Ashanti a man is punished for the murder of his child.[149] Among the Gaika tribe, of the Kafirs, the killing of a child after birth is punishable as murder, the fine going to the chief.[150] Nay, even peoples among whom infanticide is habitual seem now and then to have a feeling that the act is not quite correct. Mr. Brough Smyth asserts that the Australian Black is himself ashamed of it;[151] and Mr. Curr has no doubt that he feels, in the commencement of his career at least, that infanticide is wrong, as also that its committal brings remorse.[152] [Footnote 141: Richardson, in Franklin, _Journey to the Shores of the Polar Sea_, p. 77.] [Footnote 142: Keating, _op. cit._ i. 99.] [Footnote 143: Dorsey, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 268.] [Footnote 144: Dall, _op. cit._ p. 399.] [Footnote 145: Waitz, _op. cit._ iii. 391.] [Footnote 146: Wied-Neuwied, _op. cit._ ii. 39.] [Footnote 147: von Kotzebue, _op. cit._ iii. 211.] [Footnote 148: Valdau, in _Ymer_, v. 280.] [Footnote 149: Bowdich, _Mission from Cape Coast Castle to Ashantee_, p. 258.] [Footnote 150: Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 111.] [Footnote 151: Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ i. 54.] [Footnote 152: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 100.] The custom of infanticide in most cases requires that the child should be killed immediately or soon after its birth. Among certain North American Indians "the right of destroying a child lasted only till it was a month old," after which time the feeling of the tribe was against its death.[153] Ellis says of the Society Islanders:--"The horrid act, if not committed at the time the infant entered the world, was not perpetrated at any subsequent period . . . . If the little stranger was, from irresolution, the mingled emotions that struggled for mastery in its mother's bosom, or any other cause, suffered to live ten minutes or half an hour, it was safe; instead of a monster's grasp, it received a mother's caress and a mother's smile, and was afterwards nursed with solicitude and tenderness."[154] Almost the same is said of other South Sea Islanders[155] and of tribes inhabiting the Australian continent.[156] That the custom of infanticide is generally {405} restricted to the destruction of new-born babies also appears from various statements as to the parental love of those peoples who are addicted to this practice.[157] In Fiji "such children as are allowed to live are treated with a foolish fondness."[158] Among the Narrinyeri, "only let it be determined that an infant's life shall be saved, and there are no bounds to the fondness and indulgence with which it is treated";[159] and with reference to other Australian tribes we are told that it is brought up with greater care than generally falls to the lot of children belonging to the poorer classes in Europe.[160] Among the Indians of the Pampas and other Indians of that neighbourhood, who abandon deformed or sickly-looking children to the wild dogs and birds of prey, an infant becomes, from the moment it is considered worthy to live, "the object of the whole love of its parents, who, if necessary, will submit themselves to the greatest privations to satisfy its least wants or exactions."[161] In Madagascar, according to Ellis, "nothing can exceed the affection with which the infant is treated by its parents and other members of the family; the indulgence is more frequently carried to excess than otherwise."[162] From these and similar facts, as also from the general absence of statements to the contrary, I conclude that murders of children who have been allowed to survive their earliest infancy are very rare, though not quite unknown,[163] among the lower races. [Footnote 153: Schoolcraft, quoted by Sutherland, _op. cit._ i. 119.] [Footnote 154: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 255.] [Footnote 155: Waitz-Gerland, _op. cit._ vi. 138, 139, 638. Angas, _Savage Life and Scenes in Australia and New Zealand_, i. 313.] [Footnote 156: Ploss, _Das Kind_, ii. 255. Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 51. _Iidem_, _Northern Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 608.] [Footnote 157: See _infra_, p. 529 _sqq._; also Haberland, _loc. cit._ p. 29, and Sutherland, _op. cit._ i. 115 _sqq._] [Footnote 158: Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 142.] [Footnote 159: Taplin, in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 15.] [Footnote 160: Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ i. 51. Meyer, 'Manners and Customs of the Aborigines of the Encounter Bay Tribe,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 186.] [Footnote 161: Guinnard, _op. cit._ p. 144.] [Footnote 162: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 161.] [Footnote 163: Among the Sandwich Islanders "the infant, after living a week, a month, or even a year, was still insecure, as some were destroyed when able to walk" (Ellis, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 325). Among the Eskimo about Behring Strait, "girls were often killed when from 4 to 6 years of age" (Nelson, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 289).] The custom of infanticide prevails, or has prevailed, not only in the savage world, but among semi-civilised and {406} civilised races. In the poorest districts of China female infants are often destroyed by their parents immediately after their birth, chiefly on account of poverty.[164] Though disapproved of by educated Chinese, the practice is treated with forbearance or indifference by the mass of the people, and is acquiesced in by the mandarins.[165] "When seriously appealed to on the subject," says the Rev. J. Doolittle, "though all deprecate it as contrary to the dictates of reason and the instincts of nature, many are ready boldly to apologise for it, and declare it to be necessary, especially in the families of the excessively poor."[166] However, infanticide is neither directly sanctioned by the government, nor agreeable to the general spirit of the laws and institutions of the Empire;[167] and it is prohibited both by Buddhism and Taouism.[168] According to Dr. de Groot, the belief that the spirits of the dead may, with authorisation of Heaven, take vengeance on the living, has a very salutary effect on female infanticide in China. "The fear that the souls of the murdered little ones may bring misfortune, induces many a father or mother to lay the girls they are unwilling to bring up in the street for adoption into some family, or into a foundling-hospital."[169] [Footnote 164: Gutzlaff, _Sketch of Chinese History_, i. 59. Wells Williams, _Middle Kingdom_, ii. 240 _sqq._ Douglas, _Society in China_, p. 354 _sqq._ Doolittle, _Social Life of the Chinese_, ii. 206.] [Footnote 165: Doolittle, _op. cit._ ii. 203, 208 _sq._ Wells Williams, _op. cit._ i. 836; ii. 242. Douglas, _Society in China_, p. 354. Ploss, _Das Kind_, ii. 262.] [Footnote 166: Doolittle, _op. cit._ ii. 208.] [Footnote 167: Staunton, in his translation of _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, p. 347 n. *] [Footnote 168: _Thâi Shang_, 4. Giles, _Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio_, ii. 377. Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 267. _Indo-Chinese Gleaner_, iii. 164.] [Footnote 169: de Groot, _Religions System of China_, (vol. iv. book) ii. 457 _sqq._] In ancient times the Semites, or at least some of them, not only practised infanticide, but, under certain circumstances, approved of it or regarded it as a duty. According to an ancient Arabic proverb, it was a generous deed to bury a female child;[170] and we read of [(]O[s.]aim the Fazarite who did not dare to save alive his daughter Lacî[t.]a, without concealing her from the people, although she was his only child.[171] Considering that among the {407} nomads of Arabia, who suffer constantly from hunger during a great part of the year, a daughter is a burden to the poor, we may suppose, with Professor Robertson Smith, that "infanticide was as natural to them as to other savage peoples in the hard struggle for life."[172] It was condemned, however, by the Prophet:--"Slay not your children for fear of poverty: we will provide for them; beware! for to slay them is ever a great sin."[173] In the Mosaic Law, on the other hand, infanticide is never touched upon, and, in all probability, it hardly occurred among the Hebrews in historic times. But we have reason to believe that, at an earlier period, among them as also among other branches of the Semitic race, child-murder was frequently practised as a sacrificial rite.[174] [Footnote 170: Freytag, _Arabum Proverbia_, i. 229.] [Footnote 171: Robertson Smith, _Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia_, p. 293.] [Footnote 172: _Ibid._ p. 294.] [Footnote 173: _Koran_, xvii. 33; also, _ibid._ vi. 141, 152, and lxxxi. 8 _sq._] [Footnote 174: See _infra_, on Human Sacrifice.] The murder of female infants, whether by the direct employment of homicidal means, or by exposure to privation and neglect, has for ages been a common practice, or even a genuine custom, among various Hindu castes.[175] Yet they are well aware that it is prohibited by their sacred books; according to the Laws of Manu, the King shall put to death "those who slay women, infants, or Brâhmanas."[176] Even the Rajputs, who--out of family pride and owing to the expenses connected with the marriage ceremony--were particularly addicted to infanticide, considered that a family in which such a deed had been perpetrated was, in consequence, an object of divine displeasure. On the twelfth day, therefore, the family priest was sent for, and, by suitable gratuities, absolution was obtained. In the room where the infant was born and destroyed, he also prepared and ate some food with which the family provided him; this was considered a _hom_, or burnt offering, and, by eating it in that place, the priest was supposed to take the whole _hutteea_, or sin, upon himself, and to cleanse the family from it.[177] [Footnote 175: Wilkins, _Modern Hinduism_, 431. Chevers, _Manual of Medical Jurisprudence for India_, p. 750 _sqq._] [Footnote 176: _Laws of Manu_, ix. 232.] [Footnote 177: 'Oude as it was before the Annexation,' in _Church Missionary Intelligencer_, xi. 81 _sq._] {408} Exposure of new-born children was practised by the people of the Vedic age,[178] as also by other so-called Aryan peoples in ancient times.[179] The Teutonic father had to decide whether the child, whilst still lying on the ground, should be accepted as a member of the family, or whether it should be exposed. If he lifted it up, and some water was poured over it, or a drop of milk or honey passed its lips, it was generally safe. But apart from these restrictions, custom seems to have been in favour of exposure only under certain circumstances, exactly similar to those in which infanticide is practised among many modern savages: if the child was born out of wedlock, or if it was deformed or sickly, or if it was born on an unlucky day, or in case of twins--one of whom was always supposed to be illegitimate--or if the parents were very poor. The exposed infant, however, was not necessarily destined to die, but was, in many cases, adopted by somebody who could afford to rear it.[180] [Footnote 178: Kaegi, _Rigveda_, p. 16.] [Footnote 179: Strieker, 'Ethnographische Notizen über den Kindermord und die künstliche Fruchtabtreibung,' in _Archiv für Anthropologie_, v. 451 (Celts and Slavs).] [Footnote 180: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 455 _sq._ Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, pp. 704, 725. Maurer, _Bekehrung des Norwegischen Stammes_ ii. 181. Weinhold, _Altnordisches Leben_, p. 261. Nordström, _Bidrag till den svenska samhälls-författningens historia_, ii. 44. Stemann, _Den danske Retshistorie indtil Christian V.'s Lov_, p. 359.] The exposure of deformed or sickly infants was undoubtedly an ancient custom in Greece; in Sparta, at least, it was enjoined by law. It was also approved of by the most enlightened among the Greek philosophers. Plato condemns all those children who are imperfect in limbs, as also those who are born from depraved citizens, to be buried in some obscure and unknown place; he maintains, moreover, that when both sexes have passed the age assigned for presenting children to the State, no child is to be brought to light, and that any infant which is by accident born alive, shall be done away with.[181] Aristotle not only lays down the law with respect to the exposing or bringing up of children, that "nothing imperfect or maimed shall be brought up," but proposes that {409} the number of children allowed to each marriage shall be regulated by the State, and that, if any woman be pregnant after she has produced the prescribed number, an abortion shall be procured before the fetus has life.[182] These views were in perfect harmony with the general tendency of the Greeks to subordinate the feelings of the individual to the interest of the State. Confined as they were to a very limited territory, they were naturally afraid of being burdened with the maintenance of persons whose lives could be of no use. It is necessary, says Aristotle, to take care that the increase of the people should not exceed a certain number, in order to avoid poverty and its concomitants, sedition and other evils.[183] Yet the exposure of healthy infants, which was frequently practised in Greece, was hardly approved of by public opinion, although tolerated,[184] except at Thebes, where it was a crime punishable with death.[185] [Footnote 181: Plato, _Respublica_, v. 460 _sq._] [Footnote 182: Aristotle, _Politica_, vii. 16, p. 1335.] [Footnote 183: _Ibid._ ii. 6, p. 1265.] [Footnote 184: Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 138, 463. Hermann-Blumner, _Lehrbuch der griechischen Privatalterthümer_, p. 77.] [Footnote 185: Aelian, _Varia Historiæ_, ii. 7.] In Rome custom or law enjoined the destruction of deformed infants. According to a law of the Twelve Tables, referred to by Cicero, monstrous abortions were not suffered to live.[186] With reference to a much later period Seneca writes, "We destroy monstrous births, and we also drown our children if they are born weakly or unnaturally formed"; he adds that it is an act of reason thus to separate what is useless from what is sound.[187] But there was no tendency in Rome to encourage infanticide beyond these limits. It has been observed that, whilst the Greek policy was rather to restrain, the Roman policy was always to encourage, population.[188] Being engaged in incessant wars of conquest, Rome was never afraid of being over-populated, but, on the contrary, tried to increase the number of its citizens by according special privileges to the fathers of many children, and exempting poor parents from most {410} of the burden of taxation.[189] The power of life and death which the Roman father possessed over his children undoubtedly involved the legal right of destroying or exposing new-born infants; but it is equally certain that the act was frequently disapproved of.[190] An ancient "law," ascribed to Romulus--which, as Mommsen suggests, could have been merely a priestly direction[191]--enjoined the father to bring up all his sons and at least his eldest daughter, and forbade him to destroy any well-formed child till it had completed its third year, when the affections of the parent might be supposed to be developed.[192] In later times we find the exposure of children condemned by poets, historians, philosophers, jurists. Among nefarious acts committed in sign of grief on the day when Germanicus died, Suetonius mentions the exposure of new-born babes.[193] Epictetus indignantly opposes the saying of Epicurus that men should not rear their children:--"Even a sheep will not desert its young, nor a wolf; and shall a man? 'What! will you have us to be silly creatures, like the sheep?' Yet they desert not their young. 'Or savage, like wolves?' Yet even they desert them not. Come, then, who would obey you if he saw his little child fall on the ground and cry?"[194] Julius Paulus, the jurist, pronounced him who refused nourishment to his child, or exposed it in a public place, to be guilty of murder[195]--a statement which is to be understood, not as a legal prohibition of exposure, but only as the expression of a moral opinion.[196] On the other hand, though the exposure of healthy infants was disapproved of in Pagan Rome, it was not generally regarded as an offence of very great magnitude, especially if the parents were destitute.[197] {411} During the Empire it was practised on an extensive scale, and in the literature of the time it is spoken of with frigid indifference. Since the life of the victim was frequently saved by some benevolent person or with a view to profit,[198] it was not regarded in the same light as downright infanticide, which, in the case of a healthy infant, seems to have been strictly prohibited by custom.[199] [Footnote 186: Cicero, _De legibus_, iii. 8.] [Footnote 187: Seneca, _De ira_, i. 15.] [Footnote 188: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 27.] [Footnote 189: Montesquieu, _De l'esprit des lois_, 20 _sqq._ (_[OE]uvres_, p. 398 _sqq._). Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 27.] [Footnote 190: Denis, _Histoire des théories et des idées morales dans l'antiquité_, ii. 110.] [Footnote 191: Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 619.] [Footnote 192: Dionysius of Halicarnassus, _Antiquitates Romanæ_, ii. 15.] [Footnote 193: Suetonius, _Caligula_, 5.] [Footnote 194: Epictetus, _Dissertationes_, i. 23.] [Footnote 195: _Digesta_, xxv. 3. 4.] [Footnote 196: Noodt, 'Julius Paulus, sive de partus expositione et nece apud veteres,' in _Opera omnia_, i. 465 _sqq._ Walter, _Geschichte des Römischen Rechts_, § 538, vol. ii. 148 _sq._ Spangenberg, 'Verbrechen des Kindermords und der Aussetzung der Kinder,' in _Neues Archiv des Criminalrechts_, iii. 10 _sqq._ Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 620, n. 1.] [Footnote 197: Quintilian, _Declamationes_, 506. Plutarch, _De amore prolis_, 5.] [Footnote 198: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 28. Lallemand, _Histoire des enfants abandonnés et délaissés_, p. 59.] [Footnote 199: Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 619.] As is generally the case in the savage world, so among semi-civilised and civilised nations whose customs allow or tolerate infanticide, the child, if not suffered to live, has to be killed in its earliest infancy. Among the Chinese[200] and Rajputs[201] it is destroyed immediately after its birth. In the Scandinavian North the killing or exposure of an infant who had already been sprinkled with water was regarded as murder.[202] At Athens parents were punished for exposing children whom they had once begun to rear.[203] [Footnote 200: Gutzlaff, _op. cit._ i. 59.] [Footnote 201: _Church Missionary Intelligencer_, xi. 81. Chevers, _op. cit._ p. 752.] [Footnote 202: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, i. 457.] [Footnote 203: Schoemann, _Griechische Alterthümer_, i. 503.] The practice of exposing new-born infants, so common in the Pagan Empire, was vehemently denounced by the early Fathers of the Church.[204] They tried to convince men that, if the abandoned infant died, the unnatural parent was guilty of nothing less than murder, whilst the sinful purposes for which foundlings were often used formed another argument against exposure.[205] The enormity of the crime of causing an infant's death was enhanced by the notion that children who had died unbaptised were doomed to eternal perdition.[206] According to a decree of the Council of Mentz in 852, the penance imposed on the mother was heavier if she killed an unbaptised than if she killed a {412} baptised child.[207] In the year 1556, Henry II. of France made a law which punished as a child-murderer any woman who had concealed her pregnancy and delivery, and whose child was found dead, "privé, tant du saint sacrement de baptesme, que sépulture publique et accoustumée."[208] This statute--to which there is a counterpart in England in the statute 21 Jac. I. c. 27,[209] and in the Scotch law of 1690, c. 21[210]--thus went so far as to constitute a presumptive murder, avowedly under the influence of that Christian dogma to which Mr. Lecky attributes, in the first instance, "the healthy sense of the value and sanctity of infant life which so broadly distinguishes Christian from Pagan societies."[211] [Footnote 204: See Terme and Monfalcon, _Histoire des enfans trouvés_, p. 67 _sqq._] [Footnote 205: Justin Martyr, _Apologia I. pro Christianis_, 29, 27 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, Ser. Graeca, vi. 373 _sq._, 369 _sqq._).] [Footnote 206: _Cf._ Spangenberg, in _Neues Archiv des Criminalrechts_, iii. 20; Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 23.] [Footnote 207: _Canon Hludowici regis_, 9 (Pertz, _Monum. Germaniæ historica_, iii. 413).] [Footnote 208: Isambert, Decrusy, and Armet, _Recueil général des anciennes lois françaises_, xiii. 472 _sq._] [Footnote 209: Blackstone, _Commentaries on the Laws of England_, iv. 198.] [Footnote 210: Erskine, _Principles of the Law of Scotland_, p. 560.] [Footnote 211: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 23.] If the Pagans had been comparatively indifferent to the sufferings of the exposed infant, the Christians became all the more cruel to the unfortunate mother, who, perhaps in a fit of despair, had put to death her new-born child. The Christian emperor Valentinian I. made infanticide a capital offence.[212] According to the Coutume de Loudunois, a mother who killed her child was burned.[213] In Germany and Switzerland she was buried alive with a pale thrust through her body;[214] this punishment was prescribed by the criminal code of Charles V., side by side with drowning.[215] Until the end of the eighteenth, or the beginning of the nineteenth, century, infanticide was a capital crime everywhere in Europe, except in Russia.[216] Then, under the influence of that rationalistic movement which compelled men to rectify so many preconceived opinions,[217] it became manifest that an unmarried woman {413} who destroyed her illegitimate child was not in the same category as an ordinary murderess.[218] It was pointed out that shame and fear, the excitement of mind, and the difficulty in rearing the poor bastard, could induce the unfortunate mother to commit a crime which she herself abhorred. That no notice had been taken of all this, is explicable from the extreme severity with which female unchastity was looked upon by the Church. At present most European lawbooks do not punish infanticide committed by an unmarried woman even nominally with death.[219] In France the law which regards infanticide as an aggravated form of _meurtre_[220] has become a dead letter;[221] and in England no woman seems for a long time to have been executed for killing her new-born child under the distress of mind and fear of shame caused by child-birth.[222] [Footnote 212: _Codex Theodosianus_, ix. 14. 1. _Institutiones_, ix. 16, 7.] [Footnote 213: Tissot, _Le droit pénal_, ii. 40.] [Footnote 214: Osenbrüggen, _Das alamannische Strafrecht im deutschen Mittelalter_, p. 229 _sq._ _Idem_, _Studien zur deutschen und schweizerischen Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 358.] [Footnote 215: Charles V.'s _Peinliche Gerichts Ordnung_, art. 131.] [Footnote 216: de Feyfer, _Verhandeling over den Kindermoord_, p. 225. von Fabrice, _Die Lehre von der Kindsabtreibung und vom Kindsmord_, p. 251.] [Footnote 217: Berner, _Lehrbuch des Deutschen Strafrechtes_, p. 497.] [Footnote 218: Bentham maintained (_Theory of Legislation_, p. 264 _sq._) that infanticide ought not to be punished as a principal offence. "The offence," he says, "is what is improperly called the death of an infant, who has ceased to be, before knowing what existence is,--a result of a nature not to give the slightest inquietude to the most timid imagination; and which can cause no regrets but to the very person who, through a sentiment of shame and pity, has refused to prolong a life begun under the auspices of misery."] [Footnote 219: de Feyfer, _op. cit._ p. 228. For modern legislation on infanticide, see also Spangenberg, in _Neues Archiv des Criminalrechts_, iii. 360 _sqq._; von Fabrice, _op. cit._ p. 254 _sqq._] [Footnote 220: _Code Pénal_, art. 300, 302.] [Footnote 221: Garraud, _Traité théoretique et pratique du droit pénal français_, iv. 251.] [Footnote 222: Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, iii. 86.] * * * * * Hand in hand with the custom of infanticide goes feticide, which prevails extensively in the savage world.[223] The same considerations as induce savages to kill their new-born infants also induce them to destroy the fetus before it has proceeded into the world from the mother's body. Besides, women procure abortion with a view to avoiding the disagreeable incidents accompanying the state of pregnancy; or, very frequently, in order to conceal illicit intercourse.[224] Considering that the same degree of sympathy cannot be felt with regard to a child not yet born as with regard to an infant, it is not surprising to find that feticide is practised without objection even by {414} some peoples who never commit infanticide. Thus in Samoa, where the latter practice was perfectly unknown, the destruction of unborn children prevailed to a melancholy extent, and the same was the case in the Mitchell Group.[225] Among the Dacotahs, who only occasionally killed infants, abortion procured by artificial means was not held objectionable.[226] On the other hand there are savages who consider it a crime. Some Indian tribes in North America abhor the practice.[227] The natives of Tenimber and Timor-laut punish it with heavy fines.[228] Regarding the Kafirs, Mr. Warner states that "the procuring of abortion, although universally practised by all classes of females in Kafir society, is nevertheless a crime of considerable magnitude in the eye of the Law; and when brought to the notice of the Chief, a fine of four or five head of cattle is inflicted. The accomplices are equally guilty with the female herself."[229] [Footnote 223: Ploss, _Das Weib_, i. 842 _sqq._] [Footnote 224: _Ibid._ i. 851 _sq._] [Footnote 225: Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 79, 280.] [Footnote 226: Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, iii. 243. Keating, _op. cit._ i. 394.] [Footnote 227: Ploss, _Das Weib_, i. 848.] [Footnote 228: Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua_, p. 302.] [Footnote 229: Warner, in Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 62. _Cf._ Brownlee, _ibid._ p. 111; Holden, _Past and Future of the Kaffir Races_, p. 334.] Passing to more civilised nations, we notice that, among Hindus and Muhammedans, artificial abortion is extremely common and is hardly reprobated by public opinion, whatever religion or law may have to say on the subject.[230] It is especially resorted to by unmarried women as a means of escaping punishment and shame. "In a country like India," says Dr. Chevers, "where true morality is almost unknown, but where the laws of society exercise the most rigorous and vigilant control imaginable over the conduct of females, and where six-sevenths of the widows, whatever their age or position in life may be, are absolutely debarred from re-marriage, and are compelled to rely upon the uncertain support of their relatives, it is scarcely surprising that great crimes should be frequently practised to conceal the results of immorality, and that the procuring of criminal abortion should, especially, be an act of {415} almost daily commission, and should have become a trade among certain of the lower midwives."[231] In Persia every illegitimate pregnancy ends with abortion; the act is done almost publicly, and no obstacle is put in its way.[232] In Turkey, both among the rich and poor, even married women very commonly procure abortion after they have given birth to two children, one of which is a boy; and the authorities regard the practice with indifference.[233] In ancient Greece, as we have seen, feticide was under certain circumstances recommended by Plato and Aristotle, in preference to infanticide. In Rome it was prohibited by Septimius Severus and Antoninus, but the prohibition seems to have referred only to those married women who, by procuring abortion, defrauded their husbands of children.[234] During the Pagan Empire, abortion was extensively practised, either from poverty, or licentiousness, or vanity; and, although severely disapproved of by some,[235] "it was probably regarded by the average Romans of the later days of Paganism much as Englishmen in the last century regarded convivial excesses, as certainly wrong, but so venial as scarcely to deserve censure."[236] Seneca thinks Helvia worthy of special praise because she had never destroyed her expected child within her womb, "after the fashion of many other women, whose attractions are to be found in their beauty alone."[237] The Romans drew a broad line between feticide and infanticide. An unborn child was not regarded by them as a human being; it was a _spes animantis_, not an _infans_.[238] It was said to be merely a part of the mother, as the fruit is a part of the tree till it becomes ripe and falls down.[239] [Footnote 230: _Laws of Manu_, v. 90; _Vish['n]u Purá['n]a_, p. 207 _sq._] [Footnote 231: Chevers, _op. cit._ p. 712.] [Footnote 232: Polak, _Persien_, i. 217.] [Footnote 233: Ploss, _Das Weib_, i. 846 _sq._] [Footnote 234: _Digesta_, xlvii. 11. 4. _Cf._ Rein, _Criminalrecht der Römer_, p. 447.] [Footnote 235: Paulus, quoted in _Digesta_, xxv. 3, 4.] [Footnote 236: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 21 _sq._] [Footnote 237: Seneca, _Ad Helviam_, 16.] [Footnote 238: Spangenberg, 'Verbrechen der Abtreibung der Leibesfrucht,' in _Neues Archiv des Criminalrechts_, ii. 23.] [Footnote 239: _Ibid._ ii. 22.] Very different opinions were held by the Christians. A sanctity, previously unheard of, was attached to human life from the very beginning. Feticide was regarded as a {416} form of murder. "Prevention of birth," says Tertullian, "is a precipitation of murder; nor does it matter whether one take away a life when formed, or drive it away while forming. He also is a man who is about to be one. Even every fruit already exists in its seed."[240] St. Augustine, again, makes a distinction between an embryo which has already been formed, and an embryo as yet unformed. From the creation of Adam, he says, it appears that the body is made before the soul. Before the embryo has been endowed with a soul it is an _embryo informatus_, and its artificial abortion is to be punished with a fine only; but the _embryo formatus_ is an animate being, and to destroy it is nothing less than murder, a crime punishable with death.[241] This distinction between an animate and inanimate fetus was embodied both in Canon[242] and Justinian law,[243] and passed subsequently into various lawbooks.[244] And a woman who destroyed her animate embryo was punished with death.[245] [Footnote 240: Tertullian, _Apologeticus_, 9 (Migne _op. cit._ i. 319 _sq._).] [Footnote 241: St. Augustine, _Questiones in Exodum_, 80; _Idem_, _Questiones Veteris et Novi Testamenti_, 23 (Migne, _op. cit._ xxxiv.-xxxv. 626, 2229).] [Footnote 242: Gratian, _Decretum_, ii. 32. 2. 8 _sq._] [Footnote 243: As regards the time from which the fetus was considered to be animate a curious distinction was drawn between the male and the female fetus. The former was regarded as _animatus_ forty days after its conception, the latter eighty days. This theory, however--which was derived, as it seems, either from an absurd misinterpretation of _Leviticus_, xii. 2-5, or from the views of Aristotle (_De animalibus historiæ_, vii. 3; _cf._ Pliny, _Historia naturalis_, vii. 6)--was not accepted by the glossarist of the Justinian Code, who fixed the animation of the female, as well as of the male, fetus at forty days after its conception; and this view was adopted by later jurists (Spangenberg, in _Neues Archiv des Criminalrechts_, ii. 37 _sqq._).] [Footnote 244: von Fabrice, _op. cit._ p. 202 _sq._ Berner, _op. cit._ p. 501. Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 720 _sqq._] [Footnote 245: Fleta, i. 23. 12 (England). Charles V's _Peinliche Gerichts Ordnung_, art. 133. Spangenberg in _Neues Archiv des Criminalrechts_, ii. 16.] The criminality of artificial abortion was increased by the belief that an _embryo formatus_, being a person endowed with an immortal soul, was in need of baptism for its salvation. In his highly esteemed treatise De fide, written in the sixth century, St. Fulgentius says, "It is to be believed beyond doubt, that not only men who are come to the use of reason, but infants, whether they die in their mother's womb, or after they are born, without baptism, {417} in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, are punished with everlasting punishment in eternal fire, because though they have no actual sin of their own, yet they carry along with them the condemnation of original sin from their first conception and birth."[246] And in the Lex Bajuwariorum this doctrine is expressly referred to in a paragraph which prescribes a daily compensation for children killed in the womb on account of the daily suffering of those children in hell.[247] Subsequently, however, St. Fulgentius' dictum was called in question, and no less a person than Thomas Aquinas suggested the possibility of salvation for an infant who died before its birth.[248] Apart from this, the doctrine that the life of an embryo is equally sacred with the life of an infant was so much opposed to popular feelings, that the law concerning feticide had to be altered. Modern legislation, though treating the fetus as a distinct being from the moment of its conception,[249] punishes criminal abortion less severely than infanticide.[250] And the very frequent occurrence of this crime[251] is an evidence of the comparative indifference with which it is practically looked upon by large numbers of people in Christian countries. [Footnote 246: St. Fulgentius, _De fide_, 27 (Migne, _op. cit._ lxv. 701).] [Footnote 247: _Lex Bajuwariorum_, viii. 21 (vii. 20).] [Footnote 248: Lecky, _History of the Rise and Influence of the Spirit of Rationalism in Europe_, i. 360, n. 2.] [Footnote 249: Henke, _Lehrbuch der gerichtlichen Medicin_, 99, p. 75. Berner, _op. cit._ p. 502.] [Footnote 250: von Fabrice, _op. cit._ p. 199. For modern laws referring to criminal abortion, see _ibid._ p. 206 _sqq._, and Spangenberg, in _Neues Archiv des Criminalrechts_, ii. 178 _sqq._] [Footnote 251: See Ploss, _Das Weib_, i. 848 _sqq._; Schmidt's _Jahrbücher der in- und ausländischen Gesammten Medicin_, xciii. 97.] CHAPTER XVIII THE KILLING OF WOMEN AND OF SLAVES--THE CRIMINALITY OF HOMICIDE INFLUENCED BY DISTINCTIONS OF CLASS. AMONG many of the lower races a husband is said to possess the power of life and death over his wife; but what this actually means is not always obvious. It is quite probable that, in some cases, the husband may put his wife to death whenever he pleases, without having to fear any disagreeable consequences. In other instances he, by doing so, at all events exposes himself to the vengeance of her family. Among the Bangerang tribe of Victoria, for instance, "he might ill-treat her, give her away, do as he liked with her, or kill her, and no one in the tribe interfered; though, had he proceeded to the last extremity, her death would have been avenged by her brothers or kindred."[1] So, also, among the aborigines of North-West-Central Queensland, "a wife has always her 'brothers' to look after her interests," and if a man kills his wife he has to deliver up one of his own sisters for his late wife's friends to put to death.[2] We shall see in a subsequent chapter that many statements in which absolute marital power is ascribed to savage husbands are not to be interpreted too literally. I venture to believe that the husband's so-called power of life and death is generally {419} restricted by custom to cases where the wife has committed some offence, and, especially, where she has been guilty of unfaithfulness. [Footnote 1: Curr, _Recollections of Squatting in Victoria_, p. 248.] [Footnote 2: Roth, _Ethnological Studies among the North-West-Central Queensland Aborigines_, p. 141. _Cf._ Fison and Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 281 (Geawe-gal tribe).] The right of punishing the wife capitally, however, is by no means universally granted to the husband in uncivilised communities. Among the Gaika tribe of the Kafirs, "if he puts her to death, he is punished as a murderer."[3] Among the Bakwiri he has to suffer death himself if he kills his wife; if she is unfaithful to him he is only permitted to beat her.[4] From the information we possess of the lower races it does not seem to be the general rule that husbands punish their adulterous wives with death; but whether they have the right of doing so is a question seldom touched upon by our authorities.[5] We shall see that savage custom often gives to the husband only very limited rights over his wife, and requires that he should treat her with respect. [Footnote 3: Brownlee, in Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 117.] [Footnote 4: Schwarz, quoted by Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 401.] [Footnote 5: See Steinmetz, _Ethnologische Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, ii. 303.] Among various peoples of a higher type the husband has, under certain circumstances, had the right of punishing his wife capitally; but this seems to be nearly all that is involved in that "power of life and death" which he is said to have possessed over her.[6] However, whilst custom or law forbade him to kill his wife without sufficient cause, such a deed was hardly looked upon with the same horror, or treated with the same severity, as the murder of a husband by his wife, owing to the former's superior position in the family. Among the Langobardi, according to the laws of King Rothar, a husband who killed his wife had to pay the same compensation as anybody else would have had to pay for taking her life, but if a wife killed her husband, she was put to death, and her property forfeited {420} to the family of the dead.[7] In Russia, in the seventeenth century, whilst a husband who murdered his wife was, according to law, obnoxious to corporal punishment, a wife who murdered her husband was buried alive, with the head above the ground, and left to perish by hunger.[8] According to English law, a woman who killed her husband was guilty of "petit treason," that is, murder in its most odious degree.[9] [Footnote 6: Rein, _Japan_, p. 424. Hommel, _Die semitischen Völker und Sprachen_, i. 417 (Babylonians). Leist, _Altarisches Jus Civile_, i. 196, 275 ("Aryan" peoples). Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 705; Nordström, _Bidrag till den svenska samhälls-författningens historia_, ii. 61 _sq._; Weinhold, _Altnordisches Leben_, p. 250; Keyser _Efterladte Skrifter_, ii. pt. ii. 28 _sq._ (Teutons).] [Footnote 7: _Edictus Rothari_, 200 _sqq._] [Footnote 8: Macieiowski, _Slavische Rechtsgeschichte_, iv. 292. For a Corsican law concerning matricide, see Cibrario, _Economia politica del medio eve_, i. 344; and for the punishment inflicted for the same crime on a woman in Nuremberg, in 1487, see Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel des peuples modernes_, ii. 607.] [Footnote 9: Blackstone, _Commentaries on the Laws of England_, iv. 203.] Among many peoples the life of a woman is held cheaper than that of a man, independently of the relationship between the slayer and his victim. In Burma, if a woman was accidentally killed, less compensation had to be paid than for a man. A Burman explained this in the following words:--"A woman is worth less than a man _in that way_. A maidservant can be hired for less than a manservant, a daughter can claim less than a son. They cannot do so much work; they are not so strong. If they had been worth more, the law would have been the other way; of course they are worth less."[10] Among Muhammedans the price of blood for a woman is half the sum which is the price of blood for a free man.[11] In ancient India the murder of a woman, unless she was with child, was in the eye of the law on a par with the murder of a Sûdra.[12] According to Cambrian law, the _galanas_, or blood-price, of a woman was half the _galanas_ of her brother.[13] Among the Teutons the _wergeld_ of a woman varied: sometimes it was the same as that for a man, sometimes only half as much, but sometimes twice as much, or, if she was pregnant, {421} even more.[14] These variations depended upon the different points of view from which the offence was looked upon. By herself she was worth less than a man, as a mother she was worth more;[15] and, quite apart from her value, the natural helplessness of her sex tended to aggravate the crime.[16] Among modern savages and barbarians, also, the estimate of a woman's life is in some instances lower than that of a man's,[17] in some equal to it,[18] and in some higher.[19] Among the Gallas the killing of a free man can be atoned for only by one thousand cattle, whereas fifty are deemed sufficient for the killing of a woman.[20] On the other hand, among the Iroquois two hundred yards of wampum were paid for the murder of a woman, and only one hundred for that of a man.[21] Among the Rejangs of Sumatra, whilst the compensation for murder is eighty dollars if the victim was an ordinary man or boy, it is one hundred and fifty dollars if the person murdered was a woman or a girl.[22] Among the Ag[=a]r, a Dinka tribe, the murder of a man must be atoned for by a fine of thirty cows, that of a woman by forty cows.[23] Where wives are purchased, the killing of a woman involves the destruction of valuable property, and is dealt with accordingly. [Footnote 10: Fielding, _The Soul of a People_, p. 171.] [Footnote 11: Lane, _Arabian Society in the Middle Ages_, p. 18.] [Footnote 12: _Baudhâyana_, i. 10. 19. 3. Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Gentium_, p. 305 _sqq._] [Footnote 13: _Venedotian Code_, ii. 1. 16. According to the 'Laws of the Brets and Scots,' the estimate of a married woman is less by a third part than that of her husband, whereas the estimate of an unmarried woman is equal to that of her brother (Innes, _Scotland in the Middle Ages_, p. 181).] [Footnote 14: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 404 _sqq._] [Footnote 15: This point of view is very conspicuous in the Salic Law (_Lex Salica_ [Herold's text], 28).] [Footnote 16: Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 571. Keyser, _op. cit._ ii. pt. ii. 29. Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 614 _sq._ Pardessus, _Loi Salique_, p. 662.] [Footnote 17: Post, _Anfänge des Staats- und Rechtsleben_, p. 192. _Idem_, _Studien zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 119 _sq._ Gibbs, 'Tribes of Western Washington and North-western Oregon,' in _Contributions to North American Ethnology_, i. 190. Georgi, _Russia_, ii. 261; Vámbéry, _Türkenvolk_, p. 305 (Kirghiz). Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, p. 487 (Wakamba).] [Footnote 18: Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, i. 277 (Creeks). Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 370. Woodthorpe, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. 21 (Shans).] [Footnote 19: Post, _Studien zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 119 _sq._] [Footnote 20: Paulitschke, _Ethnographie Nordost-Afrikas_, p. 263.] [Footnote 21: Loskiel, _History of the Mission of the United Brethren among the Indians in North America_, i. 16.] [Footnote 22: Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 222.] [Footnote 23: _Emin Pasha in Central Africa_, p. 338.] * * * * * As a husband often has "the power of life and death" over his wife, so we may expect to find, even more often, {422} that a master has the same power over his slave. The latter, as a rule, can hardly count on the support of his family, and when, as is frequently the case, he is a prisoner of war, the right of killing an enemy easily passes into the right of killing the slave. In the literature dealing with the lower races we repeatedly meet with the statement that the owner may kill his slave at pleasure, or that he is not accountable for killing him.[24] Yet this seems to mean rather that, if he does so, no complaint can be brought against him, or no vengeance taken on him, than that he has an unconditional moral right to put to death a slave whom he no longer cares to keep; we shall see that savage custom very commonly requires that slaves should be treated with kindness by their masters. In many cases the master is expressly denied the right of killing his slave at his own discretion.[25] Among the Bataks, the owner, though allowed to punish his slave, must take care that the latter does not succumb to the punishment.[26] Among the Rejangs, if a man kills his slave, he pays half his price as compensation to the feudal chief of the country.[27] In Madagascar "masters have full power over their slaves, excepting as to life";[28] and the same is said of the Tshi-speaking peoples of the Gold Coast.[29] The Mandingoes allow the owner to do what he likes to a prisoner of war and to a person who has lost his freedom through insolvency, but he is forbidden to kill a house-slave.[30] Among the Barea and Kunáma, by putting {423} to death a slave who is a native of the country, the master even exposes himself to the blood-revenge of the family of the slain.[31] [Footnote 24: Monrad, _Bidrag til en Skildring af Guinea-Kysten_, p. 42 (Negroes of Accra). Bowdich, _Mission to Ashantee_, p. 258 (people of Ashanti). Ward, _Five Years with the Congo Cannibals_, p. 105 (Bolobo). Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 168 (Eastern Central Africans). Burton, _Zanzibar_, ii. 95 (Wanika). Cooper, _Mishmee Hills_, p. 238. _Glimpses of the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 106 (Highlanders of Palembang). Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 33 (Maoris). Gibbs, _loc. cit._ p. 189 (Thlinkets). Steinmetz, _Studien_, ii. 308 _sqq._] [Footnote 25: Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse von eigeborenen Völkern in Afrika und Ozeanien_, p. 43 (Banaka and Bapuku). Mademba, _ibid._ p. 83 (natives of the Sansanding States). Lang, _ibid._ p. 241 (Washambala). Desoignies, _ibid._ p. 278 (Msalala).] [Footnote 26: _Glimpses of the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 114.] [Footnote 27: Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 222.] [Footnote 28: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 196.] [Footnote 29: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 291.] [Footnote 30: Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 95.] [Footnote 31: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 484.] The murder of another person's slave is of course largely regarded as an offence against the property of the owner, but, in many cases at least, it is not exclusively looked upon in this light. Where the master himself is not allowed to kill his slave, the slave possesses the right to live in the full sense of the term. Sometimes there is in this respect little difference between him and a freeman. Among the Beni Amer, whilst the murder of a slave who has been bought is merely compensated for by the payment of the purchase sum, the murder of a slave who belongs to his master by birth is avenged by his relatives, or, if he has none, by the master himself; should the murderer be too high a person, the matter drops, but there is no question of payment in any case.[32] Where the system of blood-money prevails, the price paid for the life of a slave is less than that paid for the life of a freeman. Among the Kirghiz the former is only half of the latter.[33] In Axim, on the Gold Coast, according to Bosman, the murderer of a slave was usually fined thirty-six crowns, whilst five hundred crowns were demanded for the murder of a free-born negro.[34] [Footnote 32: _Ibid._ p. 309.] [Footnote 33: Georgi, _op. cit._ ii. 261.] [Footnote 34: Bosman, _New Description of the Coast of Guinea_, p. 141 _sq._] The rule that the life of a slave is held in less estimation than the life of a freeman applies to the nations of archaic culture; yet not even the master is among them in all circumstances allowed to put his slave to death. In ancient Mexico the murder of a slave, though committed by the master, was a capital offence.[35] In Corea, a slave may not be killed by his owner before the latter has obtained the permission of the board of punishments, or of the high provincial authorities.[36] According to the {424} Chinese Penal Code, a master who, instead of complaining to a magistrate privately, beats to death a slave who has been guilty of theft, adultery, or any other similar crime, shall be punished with one hundred blows. If he beats to death, or intentionally kills, a slave who has committed no crime, he shall be punished with sixty blows and one year's banishment, and the wife or husband, as also the children, of the deceased slave shall be entitled to their freedom.[37] Again, a freeman who kills another's slave shall be strangled.[38] [Footnote 35: Bancroft, _op. cit._ ii. 223.] [Footnote 36: Rockhill, 'Notes on some of the Laws, Customs, and Superstitions of Korea,' in _American Anthropologist_, iv. 180. _Cf._ Griffis, _Corea_, p. 239.] [Footnote 37: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cccxiv. p. 340.] [Footnote 38: _Ibid._ sec. cccxiii. p. 336.] According to Hebrew law, a master who smites his slave so that he dies under his hand, "shall be surely punished"; but if the slave continues to live for a day or two after the assault, the master goes free on the score that the slave is "his money."[39] Muhammed strongly enjoined the duty of kindness to slaves; yet, according to Muhammedan law, the master may even kill his own slave with impunity for any offence, and incurs but a slight punishment--as imprisonment for a period at the discretion of the judge--if he kills him wantonly.[40] The price of blood for a slave is his or her value; but by the [H.]anafee law a man is obnoxious to capital punishment for the murder of another man's slave.[41] [Footnote 39: _Exodus_, xxi. 20 _sq._] [Footnote 40: Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 115. _Idem_, _Arabian Society in the Middle Ages_, p. 251.] [Footnote 41: _Idem_, _Modern Egyptians_, p. 119. _Idem_, _Arabian Society_, p. 18 _sq._] Among the ancient Teutons the master was irresponsible in the eye of the law as to all dealings between himself and his slave; legally the slave was on a par with the horse and the ox, and to kill him was only to inflict a certain loss upon the owner.[42] In ancient Wales the position of a slave seems to have been very similar; there was no _galanas_ for a bondman, "only payment of his worth to his master, like the worth of a beast."[43] Among the Greeks, in the Homeric age, the master evidently {425} could punish his slaves with death;[44] but in later times, at least at Athens, he was obliged to hand over to the magistrate any slave of his who deserved capital punishment.[45] What happened to a master who killed his own slave we do not know exactly, but at any rate he had to undergo a ceremony of purification.[46] Plato says in his 'Laws,' that if a person kills the slave of another in anger, he shall pay twice the amount of the loss to his owner.[47] But he adds, "If any one kills a slave who has done no wrong, because he is afraid that he may inform of some base and evil deeds of his own, or for any similar reason, in such a case let him pay the penalty of murder, as he would have done if he had slain a citizen."[48] [Footnote 42: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 342 _sqq._ Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. 96. Kemble, _Saxons in England_, i. 208 _sqq._ Stemann, _op. cit._ p. 281 _sqq._ Keyser, _op. cit._ ii. pt. i. 289.] [Footnote 43: _Dimetian Code_, iii. 3. 8.] [Footnote 44: _Odyssey_, iv. 743; xix. 489 _sq._] [Footnote 45: Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 217. Hermann-Blümner, _Lehrbuch der griechischen Privatalterthümer_, p. 88, n. 3.] [Footnote 46: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 865, 868. Schmidt, _op. cit._ ii. 217 _sq._] [Footnote 47: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 868.] [Footnote 48: _Ibid._ ix. 872.] In Rome, in ancient times, the master had by law the absolute power of life and death over his slaves; and he who killed another man's slave was not criminally prosecuted, but had merely to compensate the owner for the destruction of his property.[49] Even during the Empire a slave was counted a thing, not a person; himself incapable of suffering an _injuria_, he was viewed as a mechanical medium only, through which an insult could be transmitted to his master.[50] Yet this doctrine was not rigidly adhered to. After the publication of the Lex Cornelia, the change was introduced that he who killed a slave belonging to somebody else could be punished for murder;[51] and later on even the master's power of life and death was restricted by law. Claudius declared that sick slaves who had been exposed by their owners in a languishing condition, and afterwards recovered, should be perfectly free and never more return to their former servitude; moreover, "if any one chose to kill at once, rather than expose, a slave, he should be liable for murder."[52] {426} By a constitution of Antoninus Pius he who put his slave to death without a sufficient cause (_sine causa_) was to be punished equally with him who killed the slave of another.[53] Hadrian even made an attempt to induce slave-owners to hand over to the authorities slaves who had been guilty of some capital crime, instead of themselves inflicting the punishment on the guilty.[54] [Footnote 49: Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 616.] [Footnote 50: _Institutiones_, iv. 4. 3.] [Footnote 51: Gaius, _Institutionum juris civilis commentarii_, iii. 213. _Cf._ Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 616.] [Footnote 52: Suetonius, _Claudius_, 25.] [Footnote 53: Gaius, _op. cit._ i. 53. _Institutiones_, i. 8. 2.] [Footnote 54: Spartian, _Vita Hadriani_, 18. _Cf._ Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 617, n. 2.] Faithful to her principle that human life is sacred, the Church made efforts to secure the life of the slave against the violence of the master; but neither the ecclesiastical nor the secular legislation gave him the same protection as was bestowed upon the free member of the Church and State. Various Councils punished the murder of a slave with two years' excommunication only, if the slave had been killed "sine conscientia judicis";[55] and the same punishment was adopted by some Penitentials.[56] Edgar made the penance last three years, whereas, if a freeman was killed, the penance was of seven years' duration.[57] Facts do not justify Mr. Lecky's statement that, "in the penal system of the Church, the distinction between wrongs done to a freeman, and wrongs done to a slave, which lay at the very root of the whole civil legislation, was repudiated."[58] [Footnote 55: _Concilium Agathense_, A.D. 506, canon 62 (Labbe-Mansi, _Sacrorum Conciliorum collectio_, viii. 335). _Concilium Epaonense_, A.D. 517, canon 34 (_ibid._ viii. 563). _Concilium Wormatiense_, A.D. 868, canon 38 (_ibid._ xv. 876).] [Footnote 56: _P[oe]nitentiale Cummeani_, vi. 29 (Wasserschleben, _Bussordungen der abendländischen Kirche_, p. 480). _P[oe]nit. Pseudo-Theodori_, xxi. 12 (_ibid._ p. 587).] [Footnote 57: _Canons enacted under Edgar_, Modus imponendi p[oe]nitentiam, 4, 11 (_Ancient Laws and Institutes of England_, p. 405 _sq._).] [Footnote 58: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 66. Mr. Lecky states (_ibid._ ii. 66 _sq._) that the Council of Illiberis excluded for ever from the communion a master who killed his slave. I have only been able to find the following enactment made by a Council held at Illiberis in the beginning of the fourth century:--"Si qua domina furore zeli accensa flagris verberaverit ancillam suam, ita ut in tertium diem animam cum cruciatu effundat; eo quod incertum sit, voluntate, an casu occiderit; si voluntate, post septem annos; si casu, post quinquennii tempora, acta legitima p[oe]nitentia, ad communionem placuit admitti" (_Concilium Eliberitanum_, ch. 5 [Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ ii. 6]).] Beyond a law of Constantine, to the effect that a master {427} who put his slave to death in a non-judicial way, was to be punished as a murderer,[59] and a reiteration of some previous enactments, the Christian emperors seem to have done little to guard the life of the slave. Whilst it was provided that any master who applied to his slave certain atrocious tortures with the object of killing him should be deemed a manslayer, it was emphatically said that no charge whatever should be brought against him if the slave died under moderate punishment, or under any punishment not inflicted with the intention of killing him.[60] Arcadius and Honorius even passed a law refusing protection to a slave who should fly to a church for refuge from his master;[61] but this law was, in the West, followed by regulations of an opposite character.[62] The barbarian invasions certainly did not improve the condition of slaves, and in Teutonic countries it was only by slow degrees that the introduction and spread of a higher civilisation exercised its humanising influence on the relation between master and slave. The Visigothic Code prohibited a person from killing any of his slaves who had committed no offence.[63] According to the Capitularia, the master had to pay a penalty for causing the death of a guiltless slave, provided that he died at once; but if he survived the injury only a day or two, the master was not punishable for his deed, because the slave was his _pecunia_.[64] In a later period any intentional killing of an innocent slave was punished by law, but the law probably remained a dead letter.[65] In the thirteenth century Beaumanoir, the French jurisconsult, could write:--"Plus cortoise est nostre coustume envers les sers que en autre païs, car li segneur poent penre de lor sers, et à mort et à vie, toutes les fois {428} qu'il lor plest, et tant qu'il lor plet."[66] Nay, even in quite modern times, in Christian countries, where negro slavery prevailed as a recognised institution, the life of the slave was only inadequately protected by their laws. [Footnote 59: _Codex Theodosianus_, ix. 12. 1.] [Footnote 60: _Ibid._ ix. 12. Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 62 _sq._] [Footnote 61: _Codex Theodosianus_, ix. 45. 3.] [Footnote 62: Babington, _The Influence of Christianity in promoting the Abolition of Slavery in Europe_, p. 37. Biot, _De l'abolition de l'esclavage ancien en Occident_, p. 239.] [Footnote 63: _Lex Wisigothorum_, vi. 5. 12.] [Footnote 64: _Capitularia_, vi. 11 (Georgisch, _Corpus Juris Germanici antiqui_, col. 1513). This law is borrowed from _Exodus_, xxi. 20 _sq._] [Footnote 65: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 344 _sq._ _Cf._ Potgiesser, **_Commentarii juris Germanici de statu servorum veteri perinde atqve novo_, ii. 1. 10, 13, 24; iii. 6 (pp. 308, 309, 311, 312, 321, 633 _sqq._).] [Footnote 66: Beaumanoir, _Les coutumes du Beauvoisis_, xlv. 36, vol. ii. p. 237.] In most of the British colonies, it was only by force of comparatively recent acts, made for the most part subsequent to the year 1797, that the same punishment was prescribed for the murder of a slave as for the murder of a free person. Prior to this period the former crime was subject only to a small pecuniary penalty, in Barbados not exceeding £15.[67] In the French colonies, according to the Code Noir, a master who killed his slave should be punished "selon l'atrocité des circonstances."[68] In all the North American Slave-States there was a time when the murder of a slave, whether by his master or a third person, was atoned for by a fine. In South Carolina this was the case as late as 1821, and only since then the wilful, malicious, and premeditated killing of a slave, by whomsoever perpetrated, was a capital offence in all the slave-holding States.[69] But this does not mean that no distinction was made between the killing of a slave and the killing of a freeman. In South Carolina, according to an enactment of 1821, he who killed a slave on a sudden heat of passion was punished simply with a fine of five hundred dollars and imprisonment not exceeding six months.[70] In the Statutes of Tennessee the law referring to the wilful murder of a slave contained the provision that it should not be extended to "any person killing any slave in the act of resistance to his lawful owner or master, or any slave dying under moderate correction";[71] and a very similar provision was made by the laws of Georgia.[72] In other words, a correction causing the death of the victim {429} was not necessarily immoderate in the eye of the law. In a still higher degree the life of the slave was endangered by another law, which prevailed universally both in the Slave-States and in the British Colonies. Neither a slave, nor a free negro, nor any descendant of a native of Africa whatever might be the shade of his complexion, could be a witness against a white person, either in a civil or criminal case.[73] This law placed the slave, who was seldom within the view of more than one white man at a time, entirely at the mercy of this individual, and its consequences were obvious. Speaking of slavery in the United States in 1853, Mr. Goodell remarks:--"Upon the most diligent inquiry and public challenge, for fifteen or twenty years past, not one single case has yet been ascertained in which, either during that time or previously, a master killing his slave, or indeed any other white man, has suffered the penalty of death for the murder of a slave." Nevertheless, murders of slaves by white men had been notoriously frequent.[74] [Footnote 67: Stephen, _Slavery of the British West India Colonies delineated_, i. 36, 38.] [Footnote 68: _Code Noir_, Édit donné au mois de Mars 1724, art. 39, p. 304.] [Footnote 69: Brevard, _Digest of the Public Statute Law of South Carolina_, ii. 240 _sq._ Stroud, _Laws relating to Slavery in the United States of America_, p. 55 _sq._] [Footnote 70: Stroud, _op. cit._ p. 64.] [Footnote 71: Caruthers and Nicholson, _Compilation of the Statutes of Tennessee_, p. 677.] [Footnote 72: Prince, _Digest of the Laws of the State of Georgia_, p. 787.] [Footnote 73: Brevard, _op. cit._ ii. 242. Stroud, _op. cit._ p. 106 _sq._ Stephen, _Slavery of the British West India Colonies_, i. 166, 174. In the French Colonies, also, slaves could not be legal witnesses, but their testimony might be heard by the judge, merely to serve as a suggestion, or unauthenticated information, which might throw light on the evidence of other witnesses (_Code Noir_, Édit du mois de Mars 1685, art. 30, p. 44).] [Footnote 74: Goodell, _American Slave Code in Theory and Practice_, p. 209 _sq._] That the life of a slave is held in so little regard is due to that want of sympathy with his fate which accounts also for his unfree condition, and to the proprietary rights over him which, in consequence, have been granted to his master. For similar reasons the killing of a freeman by a slave, especially if the victim be his owner, is commonly punished more severely than if the same act were done by a free person. The less the sympathy felt for an individual, the more intense is the resentment which he excites by offensive behaviour. According to the Chinese Penal Code, a slave who designedly kills, or strikes so as to kill, his master, shall suffer death "by a slow and painful execution."[75] Plato says that, if a slave voluntarily murders a freeman, {430} the public executioner shall lead him in the direction of the sepulchre of the dead man, to a place whence he can see the tomb, and after inflicting upon him as many stripes as the complainant shall order, put the murderer, if he survives the scourging, to death.[76] Though the slave has committed the act in a fit of passion, the relatives of the deceased shall nevertheless be under an obligation to kill him, and this may be done in any manner they please;[77] nay, even in self-defence a slave is not allowed to kill a freeman, any more than a son is allowed to kill his father.[78] At Rome, also, a slave was more heavily punished for the commission of homicide than a freeman.[79] Says the ancient jurist, "Maiores nostri in omni supplicio severius servos quam liberos famosos quam integræ famæ homines punierunt."[80] [Footnote 75: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cccxiv. p. 338.] [Footnote 76: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 872.] [Footnote 77: _Ibid._ ix. 868.] [Footnote 78: _Ibid._ ix. 869.] [Footnote 79: Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 631 _sq._] [Footnote 80: _Digesta_, xlviii. 19. 28. 16.] * * * * * In the estimate of life a distinction is made not only between freemen and slaves, but between different classes of freemen. Among certain peoples a person who kills a chief is punished with death, though murder is not generally a capital offence.[81] Where the system of compensation prevails, the blood-price very frequently varies according to the station or rank of the victim.[82] Among the Rejangs of Sumatra the compensation for the murder of a superior chief is five hundred dollars, for that of an inferior chief two hundred and fifty dollars; for that of a common person, man or boy, eighty dollars; for that of a common person, woman or girl, one hundred and fifty dollars; for the legitimate child or wife of a superior chief, two hundred and fifty dollars.[83] The body of every Ossetian has {431} a settled value in the eyes of the judges, which seems to be fixed by public opinion; thus the father of a family bears a higher value than an unmarried man, and a noble is rated at twice as much as an ordinary freeman.[84] In Eastern Tibet the murderer of a man of the upper class is fined 120 bricks of tea, the murderer of a middle-class man only 80, and so on down through the social scale, the life of a beggar being valued at a nominal amount only; but if the victim was a lama, the murderer has to pay a much higher price, possibly 300 bricks.[85] According to the doctrine of modern Buddhism, "when the life of a man is taken, the demerit increases in proportion to the merit of the person slain."[86] The laws of the Brets and Scots estimated the life of the king of Scots at a thousand cows; that of an earl's son, or a thane, at a hundred cows; that of a villein, at sixteen cows.[87] A similar system prevailed among the Celtic peoples generally,[88] as also among the Teutons. A man's _wergeld_, or life-price, varied according to his rank, birth, or office; and so minutely was it graduated, that a great part of many Teutonic laws was taken up by provisions fixing its amount in different cases.[89] In English laws of the Norman age the _wer_ of a _villanus_ is still only reckoned at _£_4, whilst that of the _homo plene nobilis_ is _£_25.[90] [Footnote 81: Woodthorpe, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. 21 (Shans). Shooter, _Kafirs of Natal_, p. 103.] [Footnote 82: Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 144. Casalis, _Basutos_, p. 225. Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 301. Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, pp. 242 _sq._ (Marea), 314 (Beni Amer). Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 145 (Lampongers of Sumatra). Modigliani, _Viaggio a Nías_, p. 494. Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, i. 386 (Kutchin). Gibbs, _loc. cit._ p. 190 (Indians of Western Washington and North-western Oregon). Paget, _Hungary and Transylvania_, ii. 411 n. (Hungarians).] [Footnote 83: Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, iii. 112.] [Footnote 84: von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 409. Kovalewsky, _Coutume contemporaine_, p. 355 _sqq._] [Footnote 85: Rockhill, _Land of the Lamas_, p. 221.] [Footnote 86: Hardy, _Manual of Budhism_, p. 478.] [Footnote 87: Innes, _Scotland in the Middle Ages_, p. 180 _sq._] [Footnote 88: _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, iii. 103, &c. Skene, _Celtic Scotland_, iii. 152. de Valroger, _Les Celtes_, p. 471.] [Footnote 89: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, pp. 272-275, 289. Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. 104, 105, 107, 108, 224, 247 _sqq._ Kemble, _Saxons in England_, i. 276 _sqq._] [Footnote 90: _Leges Henrici I._ lxx. 1; lxxvi. 4. _Cf._ _Laws of William the Conqueror_, i. 8.] The magnitude of the crime, however, may depend not only on the rank of the victim, but on the rank of the manslayer as well.[91] Among the Philippine Islanders, "murder committed by a slave was punished with death--committed by a person of rank, was indemnified by {432} payments to the injured family."[92] In Fijian estimation, says Mr. Williams, offences "are light or grave according to the rank of the offender. Murder by a chief is less heinous than a petty **larceny committed by a man of low rank."[93] Among the E[(w]e-speaking peoples of the Slave Coast, "in cases of murder and manslaughter, if the homicide be of rank superior to the person killed, he pays the compensation demanded by the family of the latter, or, in default of payment, forfeits his own life. If the homicide be of equal rank with the person killed, the family of the deceased have the right to demand his life, though compensation is usually accepted; but when he is lower in rank his life is nearly always forfeited."[94] Very similar rules prevail among the Tshi-speaking peoples of the Gold Coast.[95] Among the Marea, if a nobleman kills another nobleman, the family of the deceased generally take revenge on him; whereas, if a commoner kills a nobleman, he is not only executed himself, but his property is confiscated and his nearest relatives become subject to the murdered man's family.[96] According to the religious law of Brahmanism, the enormity of all crimes depends on the caste of him who commits them, and on the caste of him against whom they are committed.[97] If a Brâhmana slays a Brâhmana, the king shall brand him on the forehead with a heated iron and banish him from his realm, but if a man of a lower caste murders a Brâhmana, he shall be punished with death and the confiscation of all his property.[98] If such a person slays a man of equal or lower caste, other suitable punishments shall be inflicted upon him.[99] A fine of a thousand cows is the penalty for slaying a Kshatriya, that of a hundred for slaying a Vaisya, and that of ten cows only for slaying a Sûdra.[100] In Rome, also, at a certain period of its history, the {433} offence was magnified in proportion to the insignificance of the offender. During the Republic there was no law sanctioning such a distinction, with reference to crimes committed by free citizens; but from the beginning of the Empire, the citizens were divided into privileged classes and commonalty--_uterque ordo_ and _plebs_--and, whilst a commoner who was guilty of murder was punished with death, a murderer belonging to the privileged classes was generally punished with _deportatio_ only.[101] In the Middle Ages a similar privilege was granted by Italian and Spanish laws to manslayers of noble birth.[102] [Footnote 91: These two principles do not always go together. Among the Rejangs the amount of the blood-money is not proportioned to the rank and ability of the murderer, but regulated only by the quality of the person murdered (Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 246).] [Footnote 92: Bowring, _Visit to the Philippine Islands_, p. 123.] [Footnote 93: Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, p. 22.] [Footnote 94: Ellis, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples_, p. 223.] [Footnote 95: _Idem_, _Tshi-speaking Peoples_, p. 301.] [Footnote 96: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 242, _sq._ _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 314 (Beni Amer).] [Footnote 97: Hopkins, _Religions of India_, p. 263.] [Footnote 98: _Baudháyana_, i. 10. 18. 18 _sq._] [Footnote 99: _Ibid._ i. 10. 18. 20.] [Footnote 100: _Ibid._ i. 10. 19. 1 _sq._] [Footnote 101: Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, pp. 650, 1032 _sqq._] [Footnote 102: Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel des peuples modernes_, ii. 402. _Idem_, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, pp. 357, 359. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 635 _sq._] In a society which is divided into different classes, persons belonging to a higher class are naturally apt to sympathise more with their equals than with their inferiors. An injury inflicted on one of the former tends to arouse in them a higher degree of sympathetic resentment than a similar injury inflicted on one of the latter. So, also, their resentment towards the criminal will, _ceteris paribus_, be more intense if he is a person of low rank than if he is one of themselves. Where the superior class, as was originally the case everywhere, are the leaders of such a society, their feelings will find expression in its customs and laws, and thus moral distinctions will arise which are readily recognised by the common people also, owing to the admiration with which they look up to those above them. But in a progressive society this state of things will not last. The different classes gradually draw nearer to each other. The once all-powerful class loses much of its exclusiveness, as well as of its importance and influence. Sympathy expands. In consequence, distinctions which were formerly sanctioned by custom and law come to be regarded as unjust prerogatives, worthy only of abolition. And it is at last admitted that each member of the society is born with an equal claim to the most sacred of all human rights, the right to live. CHAPTER XIX HUMAN SACRIFICE IT still remains for us to consider some particular cases in which destruction of human life is sanctioned by custom or law. Men are killed with a view to gratifying the desires of superhuman beings. We meet with human sacrifice in the past history of every so-called Aryan race.[1] It occurred, at least occasionally, in ancient India, and several of the modern Hindu sects practised it even in the last century.[2] There are numerous indications that it was known among the early Greeks.[3] At certain times it prevailed in the Hellenic cult of Zeus;[4] indeed, in the second century after Christ men seem still to have been sacrificed to Zeus Lycæus in Arcadia.[5] To the historic age likewise belongs the sacrifice of the three Persian prisoners of war whom Themistocles was compelled to slay before the battle of Salamis.[6] In Rome, also, human sacrifices, though {435} exceptional, were not unknown in historic times.[7] Pliny records that in the year 97 B.C. a decree forbidding such sacrifices was passed by the Roman Senate,[8] and afterwards the Emperor Hadrian found it necessary to renew this prohibition.[9] Porphyry asks, "Who does not know that to this day, in the great city of Rome, at the festival of Jupiter Latiaris, they cut the throat of a man?"[10] And Tertullian states that in North Africa, even to the proconsulship of Tiberius, infants were publicly sacrificed to Saturn.[11] Human sacrifices were offered by Celts,[12] Teutons,[13] and Slavs;[14] by the ancient Semites[15] and Egyptians;[16] by the Japanese in early days;[17] and, in the New World, by the Mayas[18] and, to a frightful extent, by the Aztecs. "Scarcely any author," says Prescott in his 'History of the Conquest of Mexico,' "pretends to estimate the yearly sacrifices throughout the empire at less than twenty thousand, and some carry the number as high as fifty thousand."[19] The same practice is imputed by Spanish writers to the Incas of Peru, and probably not without good reason.[20] Before their rule, at all events, it {436} was of frequent occurrence among the Peruvian Indians.[21] It also prevailed, or still prevails, among the Caribs[22] and some North American tribes;[23] in various South Sea islands, especially Tahiti and Fiji;[24] among certain tribes in the Malay Archipelago;[25] among several of the aboriginal tribes of India;[26] and very commonly in Africa.[27] [Footnote 1: See Hehn, _Wanderings of Plants and Animals from their First Home_, p. 414 _sqq._] [Footnote 2: Weber, _Indische Streifen_, i. 54 _sqq._ Wilson, 'Human Sacrifices in the Ancient Religion of India,' in _Works_, ii. 247 _sqq._ Oldenberg, _Religion des Veda_, p. 363 _sqq._ Barth, _Religions of India_, p. 57 _sqq._ Monier Williams, _Br[=a]hmanism and Hind[=u]ism_, p. 24. Hopkins, _Religions of India_, pp. 198, 363. Rájendralála Mitra, _Indo-Aryans_, ii. 69 _sqq._ Crooke, _Popular Religion and Folk-Lore of Northern India_, ii. 167 _sqq._ Chevers, _Manual of Medical Jurisprudence for India_, p. 396 _sqq._] [Footnote 3: See Geusius, _Victimæ Humanæ_, _passim_; von Lasaulx, _Sühnofper der Griechen und Römer_, _passim_; Farnell, _Cults, of the Greek States_, i. 41 _sq._; Stengel, _Die griechischen Kultusaltertümer_, p. 114 _sqq._] [Footnote 4: _Cf._ Farnell, _op. cit._ i. 93; Stengel, _op. cit._ p. 116.] [Footnote 5: Pausanias, viii. 38. 7.] [Footnote 6: Plutarch, _Themistocles_, 13.] [Footnote 7: _Idem_, _Questiones Romanæ_, 83. See Landau, in _Am Ur-Quell_, iii. 1892, p. 283 _sqq._] [Footnote 8: Pliny, _Historia naturalis_, xxx. 3.] [Footnote 9: Porphyry, _De abstinentia ab esu animalium_, ii. 56.] [Footnote 10: _Ibid._ ii. 56.] [Footnote 11: Tertullian, _Apologeticus_, 9 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, i. 314).] [Footnote 12: Cæsar, _De bello gallico_, vi. 16. Tacitus, _Annales_, xiv. 30. Diodorus Siculus, _Bibliotheca_, v. 31, p. 354. Pliny, _Historia naturalis_, xxx. 4. Strabo, iv. 5, p. 198. Joyce, _Social History of Ancient Ireland_, i. 281 _sqq._] [Footnote 13: Tacitus, _Germania_, 9. Adam of Bremen, _Gesta Hammaburgensis ecclesiæ pontificum_, iv. 27 (Migne, _op. cit._ cxlvi. 644). Grimm, _Teutonic Mythology_, i. 44 _sqq._ Vigfusson and Powell, _Corpus Poeticum Boreale_, i. 409 _sq._ Freytag, 'Riesen und Menschenopfer in unsern Sagen und Märchen,' in _Am Ur-Quell_, i. 1890, pp. 179-183, 197 _sqq._] [Footnote 14: Mone, _Geschichte des nordischen Heidenthums_, i. 119, quoted by Frazer, _Golden Bough_, ii. 52. Krauss, in _Am Ur-Quell_, vi. 1896, p. 137 _sqq._ (Servians).] [Footnote 15: Ghillany, _Die Menschenopfer der alten Hebräer_, _passim_. Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 362 _sqq._ Wellhausen, _Reste arabischen Heidentums_, p. 115 _sq._ von Kremer, _Studien zur vergleichenden Culturgeschichte_, i. 42 _sqq._ Chwolsohn, _Die Ssabier und der Ssabismus_, ii. 147 _sqq._] [Footnote 16: Amélineau, _L'évolution des idées morales dans l'Égypte Ancienne_, p. 12.] [Footnote 17: Griffis, _Religions of Japan_, p. 75. Lippert, _Seelencult_, p. 79.] [Footnote 18: Bancroft, _Native Races of the Pacific States_, ii. 704, 725.] [Footnote 19: Prescott, _History of the Conquest of Mexico_, p. 38. _Cf._ Clavigero, _History of Mexico_, i. 281; Acosta, _Natural and Moral History of the Indies_, ii. 346.] [Footnote 20: Acosta, _op. cit._ ii. 344. de Molina, 'Fables and Rites of the Yncas,' in _Narratives of the Rites and Laws of the Yncas_, pp. 55, 56, 59. According to Cieza de Leon (_Segunda parte de la Crónica del Perú_, p. 100), the practice of human sacrifice has been much exaggerated by Spanish writers, but he does not deny its existence among the Incas; nay, he gives an account of such sacrifices (_ibid._ p. 109 _sqq._). Sir Clements Markham seems to attach undue importance to the statement of Garcilasso de la Vega that human victims were never sacrificed by the Incas (_First Part of the Royal Commentaries of the Yncas_, i. 130, 131, 139 _sqq._ n. [dagger]). _Cf._ Prescott, _History of the Conquest of Peru_, p. 50 _sq._ n. 3.] [Footnote 21: Garcilasso de la Vega, _op. cit._ i. 50, 130.] [Footnote 22: Müller, _Geschichte der Amerikanischen Urreligionen_, p. 212 _sq._] [Footnote 23: _Ibid._ p. 142. _sqq._ Réville, _Religions des peuples non-civilisés_, i. 249 _sq._ Dorman, _Origin of Primitive Superstitions_, p. 208 _sqq._] [Footnote 24: Schneider, _Naturvölker_, i. 191 _sq._ Fornander, _Account of the Polynesian Race_, i. 129. Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 106, 346-348, 357 (Society Islanders). Williams, _Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea Islands_, p. 548 _sq._ (especially the Hervey Islanders and Tahitians). von Kotzebue, _Voyage of Discovery_, iii. 248 (Sandwich Islanders). Lisiansky, _Voyage round the World_, pp. 81 _sq._ (Nukahivans), 120 (Sandwich Islanders). Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p. 289 _sqq._ (Mangaians). Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, pp. 188, 195; Wilkes, _Narrative of the U.S. Exploring Expedition_, iii. 97; Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition, Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 57 (Fijians). Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 134 _sqq._] [Footnote 25: Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak and British North Borneo_, ii. 215 _sqq._ Bock, _Head-Hunters of Borneo_, p. 218 _sq._ (Dyaks).] [Footnote 26: Woodthorpe, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. 24 (Shans, &c.). Colquhoun, _Amongst the Shans_, p. 152 (Steins inhabiting the south-east of Indo-China). Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, p. 244 (Pankhos and Bunjogees). Godwin-Austen, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ ii. 394 (Garo hill tribes). Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, pp. 147 (Bhúiyas), 176 (Bhúmij), 281 (Gonds), 285 _sqq._ (Kandhs). Hislop, _Aboriginal Tribes of the Central Provinces_, p. 15 _sq._ (Gonds). Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 113 _sq._ Campbell, _Wild Tribes of Khondistan_, _passim_ (Kandhs).] [Footnote 27: Schneider, _Religion der afrikanischen Naturvölker_, p. 118. Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 52 (Dahomans, &c.). Ling Roth, _Great Benin_, p. 63 _sqq._ Ellis, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 117 _sqq._ _Idem_, _Yoruba-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 296. _Idem_, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 169 _sqq._ Cruickshank, _Eighteen Years on the Gold Coast_, ii. 173. Schoen and Crowther, _Expedition up the Niger_, p. 48 _sq._ (Ibos). Arnot _Garenganze_, p. 75 (Barotse). Arbousset and Daumas, _Exploratory Tour to the North-East of the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope_, p. 97 (Marimos, a Bechuana tribe). Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 96 _sq._ (Eastern Central Africans). Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 422; Sibree, _The Great African Island_, p. 303 (Malagasy).] From this enumeration it appears that the practice of human sacrifice cannot be regarded as a characteristic of savage races. On the contrary, it is found much more {437} frequently among barbarians and semi-civilised peoples than among genuine savages, and at the lowest stages of culture known to us it is hardly heard of. Among some peoples the practice has been noticed to become increasingly prevalent in the course of time. In the Society Islands "human sacrifices, we are informed by the natives, are comparatively of modern institution: they were not admitted until a few generations antecedent to the discovery of the islands**";[28] and in ancient legends there seems to be certain indications that they were once prohibited in Polynesia.[29] In India human sacrifices were apparently much rarer among the Vedic people than among the Brahmanists of a later age.[30] We are told that such sacrifices were adopted by the Aztecs only in the beginning of the fourteenth century, about two hundred years before the conquest, and that, "rare at first, they became more frequent with the wider extent of their empire; till, at length, almost every festival was closed with this cruel abomination."[31] Of the Africans Mr. Winwood Reade remarks, "The more powerful the nation the grander the sacrifice."[32] [Footnote 28: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 106.] [Footnote 29: Fornander, _op. cit._ i. 129.] [Footnote 30: Wilson, _Works_, ii. 268 _sq._] [Footnote 31: Prescott, _History of the Conquest of Mexico_, p. 36.] [Footnote 32: Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 52.] Men offer up human victims to their gods because they think that the gods are gratified by such offerings. In many cases the gods are supposed to have an appetite for human flesh or blood.[33] The Fijian gods are described as "delighting in human flesh."[34] Among the Ooryahs of India the priest, when offering a human sacrifice to the war-god Manicksoro, said to the god, "The sacrifice we now offer you must eat."[35] Among the Iroquois, when an enemy was tortured at the stake, the savage executioners leaped around him crying, "To thee, Arieskoi, great spirit, we slay this victim, that thou mayest eat his flesh and be moved thereby to give us henceforth luck and {438} victory over our foes."[36] Among the ancient nations of Central America the blood and heart of the human victims offered in sacrifice were counted the peculiar portion of the gods.[37] Thus, in Mexico, the high-priest, after cutting open the victim's breast, tore forth the yet palpitating heart, offered it first to the sun, threw it then at the feet of the idol, and finally burned it; sometimes the heart was placed in the mouth of the idol with a golden spoon, and its lips were anointed with the victim's blood.[38] [Footnote 33: See Lippert, _Seelencult_, p. 77 _sqq._; Schneider, _Naturvölker_, i. 190.] [Footnote 34: Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 195.] [Footnote 35: Campbell, _Wild Tribes of Khondistan_, p. 211. _Cf._ Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 120 (Kandhs).] [Footnote 36: Müller, _Geschichte der Amerikanischen Urreligionen_, p. 142.] [Footnote 37: Bancroft, _op. cit._ ii. 307, 310, 311, 707 _sqq._] [Footnote 38: Clavigero, _op. cit._ i. 279.] But the human victim is not always, as has been erroneously supposed,[39] intended to serve the god as a food-offering. The Tshi-speaking peoples of the Gold Coast, as Major Ellis observes, maintain that their gods require not only food, but attendants; "the ghosts of the human victims sacrificed to them are believed to pass at once into a condition of ghostly servitude to them, just as those sacrificed at the funerals of chiefs are believed to pass into a ghostly attendance."[40] Cieza de Leon mentions the prevalence of a similar belief among the ancient Peruvians. At the hill of Guanacaure, "on certain days they sacrificed men and women, to whom, before they were put to death, the priest addressed a discourse, explaining to them that they were going to serve that god who was being worshipped."[41] [Footnote 39: Réville, _Hibbert Lectures on the Native Religions of Mexico and Peru_, p. 75 _sq._ _Idem_, _Prolegomena of the History of Religions_, p. 132. Trumbull, _Blood Covenant_, p. 189. Steinmetz, _Endokannibalismus_, p. 60, n. 1. Schrader, _Reallexikon der indogermanischen Altertumskunde_, p. 603.] [Footnote 40: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 169.] [Footnote 41: Cieza de Leon, _Segunda parte de Crónica del Perú_, p. 109.] Moreover, an angry god may be appeased simply by the death of him or those who aroused his anger, or of some representative of the offending community, or of somebody belonging to the kin of the offender. Among the E[(w]e-speaking peoples of the Slave Coast, "in the case of human victims the gods are not believed to devour the {439} souls; and as these souls are, by the majority of the natives, believed to proceed to Dead-land like all others, the object of human sacrifice seems to be to gratify or satiate the malignancy of the gods at the expense of chosen individuals, instead of leaving it to chance--the victims are in fact slain for the benefit of the community at large."[42] One reason why the human victims are so frequently criminals, is no doubt the intention of appeasing the god by offering up to him an individual who is hateful to him. The Sandwich Islanders "sacrifice culprits to their gods, as we sacrifice them in Europe to justice."[43] Among the Teutons the execution of a criminal was, in many cases at least, a sacrifice to the god whose peculiar cult had been offended by the crime.[44] Thus the Frisian law describes as an immolation to the god the punishment of one who violates his temple.[45] In ancient Rome the corn thief, if he was an adult, was hanged as an offering to Ceres;[46] and Ovid tells us that a priestess of Vesta who had been false to her vows of chastity was sacrificed by being buried alive in the earth, Vesta and Tellus being the same deity.[47] In consequence of the sacrilege of Menalippus and Comætho, who had polluted a temple of Artemis by their amours, the Pythian priestess ordained that the guilty pair should be sacrificed to the goddess, and that, besides, the people should every year sacrifice to her a youth and a maiden, the fairest of their sex.[48] The Hebrew _cherem_, or ban, was originally applied to malefactors and other enemies of Yahveh, and sometimes also to their possessions. "_Cherem_," says Professor Kuenen, "is properly dedication to Yahveh, which in reality amounted to destruction or annihilation. The persons who were {440} 'dedicated,' generally by a solemn vow, to Yahveh, were put to death, frequently by fire, whereby the resemblance to an ordinary burnt-offering was rendered still more apparent; their dwellings and property were also consumed by fire; their lands were left uncultivated for ever. Such punishments were very common in the ancient world. But in Israel, as elsewhere, they were at the same time religious acts."[49] The sacrifice of offenders has, in fact, survived in the Christian world, since every execution performed for the purpose of appeasing an offended and angry god may be justly called a sacrifice.[50] [Footnote 42: Ellis, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 119.] [Footnote 43: von Kotzebue, _op. cit._ iii. 248. _Cf._ Lisiansky, _op. cit._ 120.] [Footnote 44: von Amira, in Paul's _Grundriss der germanischen Philologie_, ii. pt. ii. 177. Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 587, 684 _sq._ Vigtusson and Powell, _op. cit._ i. 410. Gummere, _Germanic Origins_, p. 463.] [Footnote 45: _Lex Frisionum_, Additio sapientium, 12.] [Footnote 46: Granger, _Worship of the Romans_, p. 260.] [Footnote 47: Ovid, _Fasti_, vi. 457 _sq._ _Cf._ Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 902.] [Footnote 48: Pausanias, vii. 19. 4.] [Footnote 49: Kuenen, _Religion of Israel_, i. 290 _sq._] [Footnote 50: See _supra_, p. 197 _sq._ For various instances of expiatory human sacrifice, involving vicarious atonement, see _supra_, p. 66 _sq._] It is impossible to discover in every special case in what respect the worshippers believe the offering of a fellow-creature to be gratifying to the deity. Probably they have not always definite views on the subject themselves. They know, or believe, that on some certain occasion, they are in danger of losing their lives; they attribute this to the designs of a supernatural being; and, by sacrificing a man, they hope to gratify that being's craving for human life, and thereby avert the danger from themselves. That this principle mainly underlies the practice of human sacrifice appears from the circumstances in which such sacrifices generally occur. Human victims are often offered in war, before a battle, or during a siege. Cæsar wrote of the Gauls, "They who are engaged in battles and dangers, either sacrifice men as victims, or vow that they will sacrifice them . . . ; because they think that unless the life of a man be offered for the life of a man, the mind of the immortal gods cannot be rendered propitious."[51] The Lusitanians sacrificed a man and a horse at the commencement of a military enterprise.[52] Before going to war, or before the beginning of a battle, or during a siege, the Greeks offered a human victim to ensure victory.[53] When hard-pressed in battle, {441} the King of Moab sacrificed his eldest son as a burnt offering on the wall.[54] In times of great calamities, such as war, the Phenicians sacrificed some of their dearest friends, who were selected by votes for this purpose.[55] During a battle with king Gelo of Syracuse, the general Hamilcar sacrificed innumerable human victims, from dawn to sunset;[56] and when Carthage was reduced to the last extremities, the noble families were compelled to give up two hundred of their sons to be offered to Baal.[57] In Hindu scriptures and traditions success in war is promised to him who offers a man in sacrifice.[58] In Jeypore "the blood-red god of battle" is propitiated by human victims. "Thus, on the eve of a battle, or when a new fort, or even an important village is to be built, or when danger of any kind is to be averted, this sanguinary being must be propitiated with human blood."[59] In Great Benin human blood was shed in a case of common danger when an enemy was at the gate of the city.[60] The Yorubas sacrifice men in times of national need.[61] Among the E[(w]e-speaking peoples of the Slave Coast, such sacrifices "are ordinarily only made in time of war, pestilence, or great calamity."[62] The Tahitians offered human sacrifices in seasons of war, or when war was in agitation.[63] [Footnote 51: Cæsar, _De bello gallico_, vi. 16.] [Footnote 52: Livy, _Epitome_, 49.] [Footnote 53: Pausanias, iv. 9. 4 _sqq._; ix. 17. 1. Plutarch, _Themistocles_, 13. _Idem_, _Aristides_, 9. _Idem_, _Pelopidas_, 21 _sq._ Lycurgus, _Oratio in Leocratem_, (ch. 24) 99. Apollodorus, _Bibliotheca_, iii. 15. 4. Porphyry, _De abstinentia ab esu animalium_, ii. 56. Geusius, _op. cit._ i. ch. 16 _sq._ Stengel, _op. cit._ p. 115 _sq._] [Footnote 54: _2 Kings_, iii. 27.] [Footnote 55: Porphyry, _op. cit._ ii. 56.] [Footnote 56: Herodotus, vii. 167.] [Footnote 57: Diodorus Siculus, xx. 14.] [Footnote 58: Chevers, _op. cit._ p. 399.] [Footnote 59: Campbell, _Wild Tribes of Khondistan_, p. 52.] [Footnote 60: Ling Roth, _Great Benin_, p. 72.] [Footnote 61: Ellis, _Yoruba-speaking People of the Slave Coast_, p. 296.] [Footnote 62: _Idem_, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 117.] [Footnote 63: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 276 _sqq._, 346.] After a victory, captured enemies are sacrificed to the god to whose assistance the success is ascribed. This sacrifice has been represented as a thank-offering;[64] but, in many cases at least, it seems to be offered either to fulfil a vow previously made, or to induce the god to continue his favours for the future.[65] Among the Kayans of Borneo it is the custom that, when captives are brought to an enemy's country, "one should suffer death, to bring prosperity and abolish the curse of the enemy in their lands."[66] [Footnote 64: Diodorus Siculus, xx. 65 (Carthaginians). de Molina, _loc. cit._ p. 59 (Incas); &c.] [Footnote 65: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples_, p. 170. Cruickshank, _op. cit._ ii. 173. Dubois, _Character, Manners, and Customs of the People of India_, p. 488. Jordanes, _De origine actibusque Getarum_, 5 (41). _Cf._ Jephthah's vow (_Judges_, xi. 30 _sqq._).] [Footnote 66: Brook, _Ten Years in Saráwak_, ii. 304 _sq._] Human sacrifices are offered for the purpose of stopping or preventing epidemics. {442} The Phenicians sacrificed "some of their dearest friends," not only in war, but in times of pestilence.[67] In similar circumstances the ancient Greeks had recourse to human sacrifices.[68] In seasons of great peril, as when a pestilence was raging, the ancient Italians made a vow that they would sacrifice every living being that should be born in the following spring.[69] In West Gothland, in Sweden, the people decreed a human sacrifice to stay the _digerdöd_, or Plague, hence two beggar children, having just then come in, were buried alive.[70] In Fur, in Denmark, there is a tradition that, for the same purpose, a child was interred alive in the burial ground.[71] Among the Chukchi, in 1814, when a sudden and violent disease had broken out and carried off both men and reindeer, the Shamans, after having had recourse in vain to their usual conjurations, determined that one of the most respected chiefs must be sacrificed to appease the irritated spirits.[72] In Great Benin, "when the doctors declared a man had died owing to Ogiwo, if they think an epidemic imminent, they can tell Overami [the king] that Ogiwo vex. Then he can take a man and a woman, all the town can fire guns and beat drums. The man and woman are brought out, and the head Jujuman can make this prayer: 'Oh, Ogiwo, you are very big man; don't let any sickness come for Ado. Make all farm good, and every woman born man son.'"[73] In the same country twelve men, besides various animals, were offered yearly on the anniversary of the death of Adolo, king Overami's father. King Overami, calling his father loudly by name, spoke as follows: "Oh, Adolo, our father, look after all Ado [that is, Great Benin], don't let any sickness come to us, look after me and my people, our slaves, cows, goats, and fowls, and everything in the farms."[74] [Footnote 67: Porphyry, _op. cit._ ii. 56.] [Footnote 68: Geusius, _op. cit._ i. ch. 13. Stengel, _op. cit._ p. 116. Frazer, _Golden Bough_, iii. 125 _sq._] [Footnote 69: Festus, _De verborum significatione_, 'Ver sacrum,' Müller's edition, p. 379. Nonius Marcellus, _De proprietate sermonis_, 'Versacrum,' p. 522. Servius, _In Virgilii Æneidos_, vii. 796.] [Footnote 70: Afzelius, _Swenska Folkets Sago-Häfder_, iv. 181.] [Footnote 71: Nyrop, _Romanske Mosaiker_, p. 69, n. 1.] [Footnote 72: von Wrangell, _Expedition to the Polar Sea_, p. 122 _sq._] [Footnote 73: Moor and Roupell, quoted by Read and Dalton, _Antiquities from the City of Benin_, p. 7; also by Ling Roth, _Great Benin_, p. 71 _sq._] [Footnote 74: Moor and Roupell, quoted by Ling Roth, _op. cit._ p. 70 _sq._; also by Read and Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 6.] The sacrifice of human victims is resorted to as a method of putting an end to a devastating famine. {443} Instances of this practice are reported to have occurred among the ancient Greeks[75] and Phenicians.[76] In a grievous famine, after other great sacrifices, of oxen and of men, had proved unavailing, the Swedes offered up their own king Dómaldi.[77] Chinese annals tell us that there was a great drought and famine for seven years after the accession of T'ang, the noble and pious man who had overthrown the dynasty of Shang. It was then suggested at last by some one that a human victim should be offered in sacrifice to Heaven, and prayer be made for rain, to which T'ang replied, "If a man must be the victim I will be he."[78] Up to quite recent times, the priests of Lower Bengal have, in seasons of scarcity, offered up children to Siva; in the years 1865 and 1866, for instance, recourse was had to such sacrifices in order to avert famine.[79] [Footnote 75: Pausanias, vii. 19. 3 _sq._ Diodorus Siculus, iv. 61. 1 _sqq._ Geusius, _op. cit._ i. ch. 14.] [Footnote 76: Porphyry, _op. cit._ ii. 56.] [Footnote 77: Snorri Sturluson, 'Ynglingasaga,' 15, in _Heimskringla_, i. 30.] [Footnote 78: Legge, _Religions of China_, p. 54.] [Footnote 79: Hunter, _Annals of Rural Bengal_, i. 128.] For people subsisting on agriculture a failure of crops means starvation and death,[80] and is, consequently, attributed to the murderous designs of a superhuman being, such as the earth spirit, the morning star, the sun, or the rain-god. By sacrificing to that being a man, they hope to appease its thirst for human blood; and whilst some resort to such a sacrifice only in case of actual famine, others try to prevent famine by making the offering in advance. This I take to be the true explanation of the custom of securing good crops by means of human sacrifice, of which many instances have been produced by Dr. Frazer.[81] There are obvious links between this custom and that of the actual famine-sacrifice. Thus the ancient Peruvians sacrificed children after harvest, when they prepared to make ready the land for the next year, not every year, however, but "only when the weather was not good, and seasonable."[82] In Great Benin, "if there is too much {444} rain, then all the people would come from farm and beg Overami [the king] to make juju, and sacrifice to stop the rain. Accordingly a woman was taken, a prayer made over her, and a message saluting the rain god put in her mouth, then she was clubbed to death and put up in the execution tree so that the rain might see. . . . In the same way if there is too much sun so that there is a danger of the crops spoiling, Overami can sacrifice to the Sun God."[83] The principle of substitution admits of a considerable latitude in regard to the stage of danger at which the offering is made; the danger may be more imminent, or it may be more remote. This holds good of various kinds of human sacrifice, not only of such sacrifices as are intended to influence the crops. I am unable to subscribe to the hypothesis cautiously set forth by Dr. Frazer, that the human victim who is killed for the purpose of ensuring good crops is regarded as a representative of the corn-spirit and is slain as such. So far as I can see, Dr. Frazer has adduced no satisfactory evidence in support of his supposition; whereas a detailed examination of various cases mentioned by him in connection with it indicates that they are closely related to human sacrifices offered on other occasions, and explicable from the same principle, that of substitution. [Footnote 80: _Cf._ Sleeman, _Rambles and Recollections_, i. 204 _sqq._:--"In India, unfavourable seasons produce much more disastrous consequences than in Europe. . . . More than three-fourths of the whole population are engaged in the cultivation of the land, and depend upon its annual returns for subsistence. . . . Tens of thousands die here of starvation, under calamities of season, which in Europe would involve little of suffering to any class."] [Footnote 81: Frazer, _Golden Bough_, ii. 238 _sqq._] [Footnote 82: Herrera, _op. cit._ ii. 111.] [Footnote 83: Moor and Roupell, quoted by Read and Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 7; also by Ling Roth, _Great Benin_, p. 71.] "The best known case of human sacrifices, systematically offered to ensure good crops," says Dr. Frazer, "is supplied by the Khonds or Kandhs." The victims, or Meriahs, are represented by our authorities[84] as being offered to propitiate the Earth goddess, Tari Pennu or Bera Pennu, but from their treatment both before and after death it appears to Dr. Frazer that the custom cannot be explained as merely a propitiatory sacrifice. The flesh and the ashes of the Meriah, he observes, were believed to possess a magic power of fertilising the land, quite independent of the indirect efficacy which they might have as an offering to secure the goodwill of the deity. For, though a part of the flesh was offered to the Earth Goddess, the rest of it {445} was buried by each householder in his fields, and the ashes of the other parts of the body were scattered over the fields, laid as paste on the granaries, or mixed with the new corn. The same intrinsic power was ascribed to the blood and tears of the Meriah, his blood causing the redness of the turmeric and his tears producing rain; and magic power as an attribute of the victim appears, also in the sovereign virtue believed to reside in anything that came from his person, as his hair or spittle. Considering further that, according to our authorities, the Meriah was regarded as "something more than mortal," or that "a species of reverence, which it is not easy to distinguish from adoration, is paid to him," Dr. Frazer concludes that he may originally have represented the Earth deity or perhaps a deity of vegetation, and that he only in later times came to be regarded rather as a victim offered to a deity than as himself an incarnate deity.[85] [Footnote 84: Campbell, _Wild Tribes of Khondistan_. Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_.] [Footnote 85: Frazer, _op. cit._ ii. 245 _sq._] The premise on which Dr. Frazer bases his argument appears to me quite untenable. It is an arbitrary supposition that the ascription of a magical power to the Meriah "indicates that he was much more than a mere man sacrificed to propitiate a deity."[86] A sacrifice is very commonly believed to be endowed with such a power, not as an original quality, but in consequence of its contact or communion with the supernatural being to which it is offered. Just as the Meriah of the Kandhs is taken round the village, from door to door, and some pluck hair from his head, while others beg for a drop of his spittle, so, among the nomadic Arabs of Morocco, at the Muhammedan "Great Feast," a man dressed in the bloody skin of the sheep which has been sacrificed on that occasion, goes from tent to tent, and beats each tent with his stick so as to confer blessings on its inhabitants. For he is now endowed with _l-baraka del-[(]id_, "the benign virtue of the feast"; and the same power is ascribed to various parts of the sacrificed sheep, which are consequently used for magical purposes. If Dr. Frazer's way of arguing were correct we should have to conclude that the victim was originally the god himself, or a representative of the god, to whom it is now offered in sacrifice. But the absurdity of any such inference becomes apparent at once when we consider that, in Morocco, every offering to a holy person, for instance to a deceased saint, is considered to participate in its sanctity. When the saint has his feast, and animals and other presents are brought to his tomb, it is customary for his descendants--who have a right to the offerings--to distribute {446} some flesh of the slaughtered animals among their friends, thereby conferring _l-baraka_ of the saint upon those who eat it; and even candles which have been offered to the saint are given away for the same purpose, being instinct with his _baraka_. Of course, what holds good of the Arabs in Morocco does not necessarily hold good of the Kandhs of Bengal; but it should be remembered that Dr. Frazer's argument is founded on the notion that the ascription of a magic power to a victim which is offered in sacrifice to a god indicates that the victim was once regarded as a divine being or as the god himself; and the facts I have recorded certainly prove the arbitrariness of this supposition. [Footnote 86: _Ibid._ ii. 246.] This is by no means the only objection which may be raised against Dr. Frazer's hypothesis. In his description of the rite in question he has emphasised its connection with agriculture to a degree which is far from being justified by the accounts given by our authorities. Mr. Macpherson states that the human sacrifice to Tari Pennu was celebrated as a public oblation by tribes, branches of tribes, or villages, both at social festivals held periodically, and when special occasions demanded exceptional propitiations. It was celebrated "upon the occurrence of an extraordinary number of deaths by disease; or should very many die in childbirth; or should the flocks or herds suffer largely from disease, or from wild beasts; or should the greater crops threaten to fail"; while the occurrence of any marked calamity to the families of the chiefs, whose fortunes were regarded as the principal indication of the disposition of Tari towards their tribes, was held to be a token of wrath which could not be too speedily averted.[87] Moreover, besides these social offerings, the rite was performed by individuals to avert the wrath of Tari from themselves and their families, for instance, if a child, when watching his father's flock, was carried off by a tiger.[88] So, also, Mr. Campbell observes that the human blood was offered to the Earth goddess, "in the hope of thus obtaining abundant crops, averting calamity, and insuring general prosperity";[89] or that it was supposed "that good crops, and safety from all disease and accidents, were ensured by this slaughter."[90] According to another authority, Mr. Russell, the assembled multitude, when dancing round the victim, addressed the earth in the following words, "O God, we offer this sacrifice to you; give us good crops, seasons, and health."[91] Nor was the magic {447} virtue of the Meriah utilised solely for the benefit of the crops. According to one account, part of the flesh was buried near the village idol as an offering to the earth, and part on the boundaries of the village;[92] whilst in the invocation made by the priest, the goddess was represented as saying, "Let each man place a shred of the flesh in his fields, in his grain-store, and in his yard."[93] The ashes, again, were scattered over the fields, or "laid as paste over the houses and granaries."[94] It is also worth noticing that, among the Kandhs of Maji Deso, the offering was not at all made for the special purpose of obtaining cereal produce, "but for general prosperity, and blessings for themselves and families";[95] and that in the neighbouring principality, Chinna Kimedy, inhabited for the most part by Ooryahs, the sacrifice was not offered to the earth alone, "but to a number of deities, whose power is essential to life and happiness," especially to the god of war, the great god, and the sun god.[96] Now, whilst all these facts are in perfect agreement with the theory of substitution, they certainly do not justify the supposition that the Meriah was the representative of a deity of vegetation. [Footnote 87: Macpherson, _op. cit._ p. 113 _sq._ See, also, _ibid._ pp. 120, 128 _sqq._] [Footnote 88: _Ibid._ p. 113 _sq._] [Footnote 89: Campbell, _op. cit._ p. 51.] [Footnote 90: _Ibid._ p. 56. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 73.] [Footnote 91: Russell, quoted _ibid._ p. 54.] [Footnote 92: Russell, quoted _ibid._ p. 55.] [Footnote 93: Macpherson, _op. cit._ p. 122 _sq._] [Footnote 94: _Ibid._ p. 128.] [Footnote 95: Campbell, _op. cit._ p. 181.] [Footnote 96: _Ibid._ p. 120. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 197:--Among the Ooryahs human sacrifice is "performed on important occasions, such as going to battle, building a fort in an important village, and to avert any threatened danger."] The same may be said about other cases mentioned by Dr. Frazer, when more closely examined. "The Indians of Guayaquil, in Ecuador," he says, "used to sacrifice human blood and the hearts of men when they sowed their fields."[97] But our authority, Cieza de Leon, adds that those Indians also offered human victims when their chiefs were sick "to appease the wrath of their gods."[98] "The Pawnees," Dr. Frazer writes, "annually sacrificed a human victim in spring when they sowed their fields. The sacrifice was believed to have been enjoined on them by the Morning Star, or by a certain bird which the Morning Star had sent to them as its messenger . . . . They thought that an omission of this sacrifice would be followed by the total failure of the crops of maize, beans, and pumpkins.[99] James, to whom Dr. Frazer refers, and other authorities say that the human sacrifice was a propitiatory offering made _to_ that star,[100] a planet which especially with the Skidi--the only section {448} of the Pawnees who offered human sacrifices--was an object of superstitious veneration.[101] Sickness, misfortune, and personal mishaps of various kinds were often spoken of as attributable to the incurred ill-will of the heavenly bodies;[102] and the object of the sacrifice to the morning star is expressly said to have been "to avert the evil influences exerted by that planet."[103] According to Mr. Dunbar, whose important[104] article dealing with the subject has escaped Dr. Frazer's notice, "the design of the bloody ordeal was to conciliate that being and secure a good crop. Hence," he continues, "it has been supposed that the morning star was regarded by them as presiding over agriculture, but this was a mistake. They sacrificed to that star because they feared it, imagining that it exerted malign influence if not well disposed. It has also been stated that the sacrifice was made annually. This, too, was an error. It was made only when special occurrences were interpreted as calling for it."[105] At the present day the Indians speak of the sacrifice as having been made to Ti-ra'-wa, the Supreme Being or the deity "who is in and of everything."[106] In the detailed account of the rite, which was given to Mr. Grinnell by an old chief who had himself witnessed it several times, it is said:--"While the smoke of the blood and the buffalo meat, and of the burning body, ascended to the sky, all the people prayed to Ti-ra'-wa, and walked by the fire and grasped handfuls of the smoke, and passed it over their bodies and over those of their children, and prayed Ti-ra'-wa to take pity on them, and to give them health, and success in war, and plenteous crops . . . . This sacrifice always seemed acceptable to Ti-ra'-wa, and when the Skidi made it they always seemed to have good fortune in war, and good crops, and they were always well."[107] According to this description, then, the human sacrifice of the Pawnees, like that of the Kandhs, was not an exclusively agricultural rite, but was performed for the purpose of averting dangers of various kinds. And this is also suggested by Mr. Dunbar's relation of the last instance of this sacrifice, which occurred in April, 1838. In the previous winter the Skidi, soon after starting on their hunt, had a successful fight with a band of Oglala Dacotahs, and fearing that the Dacotahs would retaliate by coming upon them in overwhelming force, {449} they returned for safety to their village before taking a sufficient number of buffaloes. "With little to eat, they lived miserably, lost many of their ponies from scarcity of forage, and, worst of all, one of the captives proved to have the small-pox, which rapidly spread through the band, and in the spring was communicated to the rest of the tribe. All these accumulated misfortunes the Ski'-di attributed to the anger of the morning star; and accordingly they resolved to propitiate its favour by a repetition of the sacrifice, though in direct violation of a stipulation made two years before that the sacrifice should not occur again."[108] [Footnote 97: Frazer, _op. cit._ ii. 238.] [Footnote 98: Cieza de Leon, _La Crónica del Perú_ [parte primera], ch. 55 (_Biblioteca de autores españoles_, xxvi. 409).] [Footnote 99: Frazer, _op. cit._ ii. 238.] [Footnote 100: James, _Expedition from Pittsburg to the Rocky Mountains_, i. 357. Grinnell, _Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk-Tales_, p. 357. Dunbar, 'Pawnee Indians,' in _Magazine of American History_, viii. 738.] [Footnote 101: Dunbar, _loc. cit._ p. 738.] [Footnote 102: _Ibid._ p. 736.] [Footnote 103: Grinnell, _op. cit._ p. 357.] [Footnote 104: Mr. Dunbar is "born and reared among the Pawnees, familiar with them until early manhood, a frequent visitor to the tribe in later years" (Grinnell, _op. cit._ p. 213).] [Footnote 105: Dunbar, _loc. cit._ p. 738 _sq._] [Footnote 106: Grinnell, _op. cit._ pp. 357, 358, xvii.] [Footnote 107: _Ibid._ p. 367.] [Footnote 108: Dunbar, _loc. cit._ p. 740.] Nor is there any reason whatever to suppose that the Brahman boys whom the Gonds of India used to kidnap and keep as victims to be sacrificed on various occasions,[109] were regarded as representatives of a spirit or god. They were offered up to Bhímsen, the chief object of worship among the Gonds, represented by a piece of iron fixed in a stone or in a tree,[110] now "to sanctify a marriage, now to be wedded to the soil, and again to be given away to the evil spirit of the epidemic raging," or "on the eve of a struggle."[111] [Footnote 109: Frazer, _op. cit._ ii. 241.] [Footnote 110: _Panjab Notes and Queries_, § 550, vol. ii. 90.] [Footnote 111: _Ibid._ § 721, vol. ii. 127 _sq._] Dr. Frazer writes:--"At Lagos In Guinea it was the custom annually to impale a young girl alive soon after the spring equinox in order to secure good crops . . . . A similar sacrifice used to be annually offered at Benin."[112] But Dr. Frazer omits an important fact mentioned or alluded to by the two authorities he quotes which gives us the key to the custom, without suggesting that it has anything to do with the corn-spirit. Adams states that the young woman was impaled "to propitiate the favour of the goddess presiding over the rainy season, that she may fill the horn of plenty."[113] And M. Bouche observes, "Au Bénin, on a conservé jusqu'à présent un usage qui régnait jadis à Lagos et ailleurs: celui d'empaler une jeune fille, au commencement de la saison des pluies, afin de rendre les orichas propices aux récoltes."[114] From these statements it appears that the sacrifice was intended to influence the rain, on which the crops essentially depend. That its immediate object was to produce rain is expressly affirmed by Sir R. Burton. At Benin he saw "a young woman lashed to a scaffolding upon the summit of a tall blasted tree and being devoured by the turkey-buzzards. The people declared it to be a 'fetish,' or {450} charm for bringing rain."[115] We have previously noticed that the people of Benin also have recourse to a human sacrifice if there is too much rain, or too much sun, so that the crops are in danger of being spoiled.[116] The theory of substitution accounts for all these cases. [Footnote 112: Frazer, _op. cit._ ii. 239.] [Footnote 113: Adams, _Sketches taken during Ten Voyages to Africa_, p. 25.] [Footnote 114: Bouche, _Sept ans en Afrique occidentale_, p. 132.] [Footnote 115: Burton, _Abeokuta_, i. 19 n.*] [Footnote 116: _Supra_, p. 443 _sq._] The practice of offering human victims for the purpose of preventing drought and famine by producing rain is apparently not restricted to West Africa. In the beginning of their year, the ancient Mexicans sacrificed many prisoners of war and children who had been purchased for that purpose, to the gods of water, so as to induce them to give the rain necessary for the crops.[117] The Pipiles of Guatemala celebrated every year two festivals which were accompanied by human sacrifices, the one in the beginning of the rainy season, the other in the beginning of the dry season.[118] In India, among the aboriginal tribes to the south-west of Beerbhoom, Sir W. W. Hunter "heard vague reports of human sacrifices in the forests, with a view to procuring the early arrival of the rains."[119] Without venturing to express any definite opinion on a very obscure subject which has already led to so many guesses,[120] I may perhaps be justified in here calling attention to the fact that Zeus Lycæus, in whose cult human sacrifices played a prominent part, was conceived of as a god who sent the rain.[121] It appears from ancient traditions or legends that the idea of procuring rainfall by means of such sacrifices was not unfamiliar to the Greeks. A certain Molpis offered himself to Zeus Ombrios, the rain-god, in time of drought.[122] Pausanias tells us that once, when a drought had for some time afflicted Greece, messengers were sent to Delphi to inquire the cause, and to beg for a riddance of the evil. The Pythian priestess told them to propitiate Zeus, and that Aeacus should be the intercessor; and then Aeacus, by sacrifices and prayers to Panhellenian Zeus, procured rain for Greece.[123] But Diodorus adds that the drought and famine, whilst ceasing in all other parts of the country, still continued in Attica, so that the {451} Athenians once more resorted to the Oracle. The answer was now given them that they had to expiate the murder of Androgeus, and that this should be done in any way his father, Minos, required. The satisfaction demanded by the latter was, that they every nine years should send seven boys and as many girls to be devoured by the Minotaur, and that this should be done as long as the monster lived. So the **Athenians did, and the calamity ceased.[124] [Footnote 117: Sahagun, _Historia general de las cosas de Nueva España_, i. 50. Torquemada, _Monarchia Indiana_, ii. 251. Clavigero, _op. cit._ i. 297.] [Footnote 118: Stoll, _Ethnologie der Indianerstämme von Guatemala_, p. 46.] [Footnote 119: Hunter, _Annals of Rural Bengal_, i. 128.] [Footnote 120: See Immerwahr, _Die Kulte und Mythen Arkadiens_, i. 16 _sqq._ Professor Robertson Smith suggests ('Sacrifice,' in _Encyclopædia Britannica_, xxi. 136) that the human sacrifices offered to Zeus Lycæus were originally cannibal feasts of a wolf tribe.] [Footnote 121: Pausanias, viii. 38. 4. Farnell, _op. cit._ i. 41.] [Footnote 122: Farnell, _op. cit._ i. 42.] [Footnote 123: Pausanias, ii. 29. 7 _sq._] [Footnote 124: Diodorus Siculus, _op. cit._ iv. 61. 1 _sqq._] As an instance of the close relationship which exists between human sacrifices offered for agricultural purposes and other human sacrifices, the following case may also be mentioned. According to Strachey, the Indians in some part of Virginia had a yearly sacrifice of children. These sacrifices they held so necessary that if they should omit them, they supposed their gods "would let them no deare, turkies, corne, nor fish," and, besides, "would make a great slaughter amongst them."[125] [Footnote 125: Strachey, _History of Travaile into Virginia Britannia_, p. 95 _sq._] Men require for their subsistence not only food, but drink. Hence when the earth fails to supply them with water, they are liable to regard it as an attempt against their lives, which can be averted only by the sacrifice of a human substitute. In India, in former times, human victims were offered to several minor gods "whenever a newly excavated tank failed to produce sufficient water."[126] In Kâthiâwâr, for instance, if a pond had been dug and would not hold water, a man was sacrificed; and the Vadala lake in Bombay "refused to hold water till the local spirit was appeased by the sacrifice of the daughter of the village headman."[127] There is a legend that, when the bed of the Saugor lake remained dry, the builder "was told, in a dream, or by a priest, that it would continue so till he should consent to sacrifice his own daughter, then a girl, and the young lad to whom she had been affianced, to the tutelary god of the place. He accordingly built a little shrine in the centre of the valley, which was to become the bed of the lake, put the two children in, and built up the doorway. He had no sooner done so than the whole of the valley became filled with water."[128] When Colonel Campbell was rescuing Meriahs among the {452} Kandhs, it was believed by some that he was collecting victims for the purpose of sacrificing them on the plains to the water deity, because the water had disappeared from a large tank which he had constructed.[129] According to a story related by Pausanias, the district of Haliartus was originally parched and waterless, hence one of the rulers went to Delphi and inquired how the people should find water in the land. "The Pythian priestess commanded him to slay the first person he should meet on his return to Haliartus. On his arrival he was met by his son Lophis, and, without hesitation, he struck the young man with his sword. The youth had life enough left to run about, and where the blood flowed water gushed from the ground. Therefore the river is called Lophis."[130] [Footnote 126: Rájendralála Mitra, _op. cit._ ii. 111.] [Footnote 127: Crooke, _Popular Religion of Northern India_, ii. 174.] [Footnote 128: Sleeman, _Rambles_, i. 129 _sq._] [Footnote 129: Campbell, _Wild Tribes of Khondistan_, p. 129.] [Footnote 130: Pausanias, ix. 33. 4.] Human sacrifices are offered with a view to averting perils arising from the sea or from rivers. When the Greeks were afflicted by stress of weather at Aulis, they were bidden to sacrifice Iphigenia, in order to lull the winds.[131] Menelaus was persecuted by the Egyptians for sacrificing two children when he was desirous of sailing away and contrary winds detained him.[132] According to an Athenian writer, the colonists who first went to Lesbos were directed by an oracle to throw a virgin into the sea, as an offering to Poseidon.[133] Sextus Pompeius cast men into the sea as an offering to Neptune.[134] Hamilcar, also, following a custom of his country, threw a company of priests into the sea, as a sacrifice to the sea god.[135] The Saxons, when they were about to leave the coast of Gaul and sail home, sacrificed the tenth part of their captives.[136] The Vikings of Scandinavia, when launching a new ship, seemed to have bound a victim to the rollers on which the vessel slipped into the sea, thus reddening the keel with sacrificial blood.[137] In 1784, at the launching of one of the Bey of Tripoli's cruisers, a black slave was led forward and fastened at the prow of the vessel.[138] The Fijians launched their canoes over the living bodies of slaves as rollers,[139] or, according to {453} another account, when a large canoe was launched, they laid hold of the first person, man or woman, whom they encountered, and carried the victim home for a feast.[140] On the deck of a new boat belonging to the most powerful chief in the group, ten or more men were slaughtered, in order that it might be washed with human blood.[141] [Footnote 131: Aeschylus, _Agamemnon_, 215 _sq._] [Footnote 132: Herodotus, ii. 119.] [Footnote 133: Athenæus, _Deipnosophistæ_, xi. 15.] [Footnote 134: Dio Cassius, _Historia Romana_, xlviii. 48.] [Footnote 135: Diodorus Siculus, xiii. 86.] [Footnote 136: Sidonius Apollinaris, _Epistulæ_, viii. 6. 15.] [Footnote 137: Vigfusson and Powell, _op. cit._ i. 410; ii. 349.] [Footnote 138: Simpson, quoted by Grant Allen, _Evolution of the Idea of God_, p. 263.] [Footnote 139: Erskine, _Cruise among the Islands of the Western Pacific_, p. 249.] [Footnote 140: Wilkes, _U.S. Exploring Expedition_, iii. 97. _Cf._ Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 175.] [Footnote 141: Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 97.] The Zuñi Indians have a tradition that the waters of their valley once rose in a flood and compelled the inhabitants to flee to a table-land several hundred feet high for safety; and when the waters still rose, threatening to submerge the table-land itself, the priest determined to sacrifice a youth and a maiden to propitiate them.[142] When Seleucus Nicator founded Antioch on the Orontes, the high priest sacrificed a virgin at a place between the town and the river,[143] presumably in order to prevent the town from being flooded by the river. When the converted Franks marched to Italy under their king, Theodebert, to fight against the Goths under Vitigis, and were on the point of crossing the Po, they sacrificed what children and wives of Goths they found, and threw their corpses into the river, according to Procopius, "as the first fruits of the war."[144] At Rome, every year on the Ides of May, the Vestal Virgins threw from the Sublician bridge into the Tiber thirty human effigies formed of rushes; the Romans themselves were of opinion that at an earlier period living men had been hurled into the river, and that it was Hercules who first substituted images of straw.[145] In West Africa human sacrifices are often offered to rivers. Major Ellis states that at each town or considerable village upon the banks of the river Prah sacrifice is held on a day about the middle of October, to Prah. "As loss of life frequently occurs in this river, from persons attempting to cross it when flooded, from a sudden rise, or from those hundred minor accidents which must always occur in the neighbourhood of a deep and strong stream, the gods of the Prah are considered very malignant. The sacrifice is, in consequence, proportionate. The usual sacrifice in former times was two human adults, one male and one female. They. . . . were decapitated on the bank of the river, and the stool and image of the god washed with their {454} blood. The bodies were then cut into a number of pieces, which were distributed amongst the mangroves, or the sedge bordering the river, for the crocodiles to eat; crocodiles being sacred in Prah."[146] According to M. le Comte de Cardi, all the river-side tribes of the Niger Delta used to propitiate the river deity by the sacrifice of a copper-coloured girl, procured from a tribe of Ibos inhabiting a country away in the hinterland of New Calabar, or in some places an Albino; and it seems that this custom is still practised in the British Protectorate.[147] The Ibos themselves were in the habit of throwing human beings into the river to be eaten by alligators or fishes, or to fasten them to trees or branches, close to the river, where they were left to perish by hunger.[148] In Eastern Central Africa, also, human sacrifices are offered to rivers.[149] And in the East Indies there are various traditions of such sacrifices being made to the divine crocodiles of the sea.[150] [Footnote 142: Stevenson, 'A Chapter of Zuñi Mythology,' in _Memoirs of the International Congress of Anthropology_, Chicago, p. 316.] [Footnote 143: Malala, _Chronographia_, viii. 255 (200).] [Footnote 144: Procopius, _Bellum Gothicum_, ii. 25.] [Footnote 145: Ovid, _Fasti_, 621 _sq._ Dionysius of Halicarnassus, _Antiquitates Romanæ_, i. 38. Hartland, _Legend of Perseus_, iii. 78.] [Footnote 146: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples_, p. 64 _sq._ _Cf._ _Idem_, _Land of Fetish_, p. 122.] [Footnote 147: Comte de Cardi, 'Ju-ju Laws and Customs in the Niger Delta,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxix. 54. _Cf._ Mockler-Ferryman, _British Nigeria_, p. 235.] [Footnote 148: Schoen and Crowther, _op. cit._ p. 49.] [Footnote 149: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 96.] [Footnote 150: Tylor, 'Anniversary Address,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxi. 408. Hartland, _op. cit._ iii. 70 _sq._] In the cases which we have hitherto considered the offering of human sacrifices is mostly a matter of public concern, a method of ensuring the lives of many by the death of one or a few. But human life is also sacrificed, by way of substitution, for the purpose of preventing the death of some particular individual, especially a chief or a king, from sickness, old age, or other circumstances. In Guatemala, in the case of a dangerous illness, human sacrifice was resorted to when all other attempts to cure the patient failed. Of the Indians of Guayaquil, Cieza de Leon states:--"When the chiefs were sick, to appease the wrath of their gods, and pray for health, they made . . . . sacrifices of a superstitious nature, killing men (as I was told), and believing that human blood was a grateful offering."[151] Acosta writes:--"They vsed in Peru to sacrifice yong children of foure or six yeares old vnto tenne; and the greatest parte of these sacrifices were for the affaires that did import the Ynca, as in sickness for his health, and when he went to the {455} warres for victory, or when they gave the wreathe to their new Ynca, which is the marke of a King, as heere the Scepter and the Crowne be. In this solemnitie they sacrificed the number of two hundred children, from foure to ten yeares of age . . . . If any Indian qualified or of the common sorte were sicke, and that the Divine told him confidently that he should die, they did then sacrifice his owne sonne to the Sunne or to Virachoca, desiring them to be satisfied with him, and that they would not deprive the father of life."[152] According to Molina, "the Lord Ynca offered sacrifices [of children] when he began to reign, that the _huacas_ [or idols] might give him health, and preserve his dominions in peace."[153] Herrera tells us that the ancient Peruvians, when any person of note was sick, and the priest predicted his death, sacrificed the patient's son, "desiring the idol to be satisfie'd with him, and not to take away his father's life."[154] Garcilasso de la Vega, again, denies the existence of any such custom in the kingdom of the Incas,[155] but asserts that, before their reign, the Indians of Peru offered up their own children on certain occasions.[156] According to Jerez, some of the Peruvian Indians sacrificed their own children each month, and anointed with the blood the faces of their idols and the doors of their temples.[157] The Tonga Islanders had a ceremony called _nawgia_, or the ceremony of strangling children as sacrifices to the gods, for the recovery of a sick relative. Our informant says:--"All the bystanders behold the innocent victim with feelings of the greatest pity; but it is proper, they think, to sacrifice a child who is at present of no use to society, and perhaps may not otherwise live to be, with the hope of recovering a sick chief, whom all esteem and whom all think it a most important duty to respect, defend, and preserve, that his life may be of advantage to the country."[158] The Tahitians offered human sacrifices during the illnesses of their rulers.[159] In the Philippines, if a prince was dangerously ill or dying, slaves were slaughtered in order to satisfy the malignant ancestral soul who was supposed to have caused the disease.[160] Among the Dyaks, when a raja "falls sick, or goes on a journey, it is {456} common for him to vow a head to his tribe in case of recovery or of safe return. Should he die, one or two heads are usually offered by the tribe as a kind of sacrifice."[161] Among the Banjârîlu of Southern India, who are great travelling traders, it was formerly the custom "before starting out on a journey to procure a little child, and bury it in the ground up to its shoulders, and then drive their loaded bullocks over the unfortunate victim, and in proportion to the bullocks thoroughly trampling the child to death, so their belief in a successful journey increased."[162] In India human sacrifices were also offered to the goddess Chandiká to save the life of a king.[163] It is probable that the idea of substitution likewise accounts for the sacrifice of a young girl which a certain raja is reported to have offered in 1861, at the shrine of the goddess Durga, in the town of Jaipúr, when he installed himself at his father's decease,[164] and for the sacrifice of a Brahmin which a raja of Ratanpúr had offered up to Deví every year.[165] In Great Benin, once a year, at the end of the rainy season, all the king's beads were brought out by the boys in whose care they were kept. They were put in a heap, and a slave was compelled to kneel down over them. The king cut or struck the head of the slave with a spear so that the blood ran over the beads, and said to them, "Oh, beads, when I put you on, give me wisdom and don't let any juju or bad thing come near me." Then the slave was told, "So you shall tell the head juju when you see him." The slave was led out and beheaded, but his head was brought in again, and the beads were touched with it.[166] Among the ancient Gauls persons who were troubled with unusually severe diseases either sacrificed men or promised that they would make such sacrifices.[167] In the Ynglingasaga we are told that King Aun sacrificed nine sons, one after the other, to Odin for the purpose of obtaining a prolongation of his life.[168] According to Macrobius, the ancient Romans immolated children to the goddess Mania, the mother of the Lares, "to promote the health of the families."[169] Suetonius states that Nero, frightened by the sight of a comet, sacrificed a number of Roman noblemen {457} in order to avert the disaster from himself.[170] Antinous, according to one account, sacrificed himself to prolong the life of Hadrian.[171] The notion that the death of one person may serve as a substitute for the death of another still prevails in the Vatican. When, during Leo XIII.'s last illness, one of the Cardinals died, it was said that his death had saved the life of the Pope, Heaven being satisfied with one victim. In Morocco, if a son or a daughter dies, it is customary to say to the afflicted parents, "Why are you sorry? Your child took away your misfortune (_bas_)." A similar custom prevails in Syria and Palestine.[172] [Footnote 151: Cieza de Leon, _La Crónica del Perú_ [parte primera], ch. 55 (_Biblioteca de autores españoles_, xxvi. 409).] [Footnote 152: Acosta, _op. cit._ ii. 344.] [Footnote 153: de Molina, _loc. cit._ p. 55.] [Footnote 154: Herrera, _General History of the West Indies_, iv. 347.] [Footnote 155: Garcilasso de la Vega, _op. cit._ i. 131.] [Footnote 156: _Ibid._ i. 50.] [Footnote 157: Jerez, 'Conquista del Perú,' in _Biblioteca de autores españoles_, xxvi. 327.] [Footnote 158: Mariner, _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 220.] [Footnote 159: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 346.] [Footnote 160: Blumentritt, quoted by Wilken, 'Ueber das Haaropfer,' in _Revue coloniale internationale_, 1887, i. 364 _sq._] [Footnote 161: Pfeiffer, _A Lady's Second Journey round the World_, i. 86.] [Footnote 162: Cain, 'Bhadrachellam and Rekapalli Taluqas,' in _Indian Antiquary_, viii. 219.] [Footnote 163: Crooke, _Popular Religion in Northern India_, ii. 168.] [Footnote 164: _North Indian Notes and Queries_, § 310, vol. i. 40.] [Footnote 165: _Panjab Notes and Queries_, § 869, vol. ii. 162.] [Footnote 166: Moor and Roupell, quoted by Read and Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 7; also by Ling Roth, _Great Benin_, p. 71.] [Footnote 167: Cæsar, _De bello gallico_, vi. 16.] [Footnote 168: Snorri Sturluson, 'Ynglingasaga,' 25, in _Heimskringla_, i. 45 _sqq._] [Footnote 169: Macrobius, _Saturnalia_, i. 7.] [Footnote 170: Suetonius, _Nero_, 36.] [Footnote 171: Spartian, _Vita Hadriani_, 14. Aurelius Victor, _De Cæsaribus_, 14. Dio Cassius, _Historia Romana_, lxix. 11.] [Footnote 172: Curtiss, _Primitive Semitic Religion To-day_, p. 208.] Men are sacrificed not only to preserve the lives of other men, but to help other men into existence. Barrenness is attributed to some god keeping back the children which would otherwise be born in the due course of nature. And in order to remove this obstacle a human being, generally a child, is sacrificed to serve, as it were, as a substitute. This I take to be the explanation of the practice of offering a human sacrifice with a view to promoting fecundity, a practice which has been particularly common in India. In the history of ancient Mexico we read of Nezahualcoyotl, prince of the Tezcucans, who had been married some years without being blest with issue. "The priests represented that it was owing to his neglect of the gods of his country, and that his only remedy was to propitiate them by human sacrifice."[173] In Hindu traditions and books a numerous offspring is promised to him who offers a man in sacrifice.[174] In Jainteapore, east of Sylhet, human sacrifices were made to the goddess Kali, in hopes of procuring progeny.[175] Speaking of the Mahadeo sandstone hills which, in the Sathpore range, overlook the Nerbudda to the south, Sir W. H. Sleeman states:--"When a woman is without children she makes votive offerings to all the gods who can, she thinks, assist her; and promises of still greater in case they should grant what she wants. Smaller promises being found of no avail, she at last promises her first-born, if a {458} male, to the god of destruction, Mahadeo. If she gets a son she conceals from him her vows till he has attained the age of puberty; she then communicates it to him, and enjoins him to fulfil it." From that moment he regards himself as devoted to the god, and, at the annual fair on the Mahadeo hills, throws himself from a perpendicular height of four or five hundred feet, and is dashed to pieces upon the rocks below.[176] In one of the tales of Somadeva an ascetic tells a woman that, if she killed her young son and offered him to the divinity, another son would certainly be born to her.[177] We meet with a similar idea in the story of king Somaka. For some time he did not succeed in getting a single son from any of his one hundred wives. Finally he got a single son; but he wanted more, and asked the family priest whether there was not a ceremony which could help him to a hundred sons. The family priest answered:--"O king! let me set on foot a sacrifice, and thou must sacrifice thy son, Jantu, in it. Then on no distant date, a century of handsome sons will be born to thee. When Jantu's fat will be put into the fire as an offering to the gods, the mothers will take a smell of that smoke, and bring forth a number of sons, valorous and strong. And Jantu also will once more be born as a self-begotten son of thine, in that very mother; and on his back there will appear a mark of gold." The son was sacrificed; the wives smelt the smell of the burnt-offering; all of them became with child; and when ten months had passed one hundred sons were born to Somaka, of whom Jantu was the eldest, being born of his former mother. But the family priest departed this life, and was grilled for a certain period in a terrible hell as a punishment for what he had done.[178] [Footnote 173: Prescott, _History of the Conquest of Mexico_, p. 91.] [Footnote 174: Chevers, _op. cit._ p. 399.] [Footnote 175: Macnaghten, quoted _ibid._ p. 397.] [Footnote 176: Sleeman, _op. cit._ i. 132 _sq._] [Footnote 177: Crooke, _Popular Religion of Northern India_, ii. 173.] [Footnote 178: _Mahabharata_, Vana Parva, 127 _sq._ (pt. vi. p. 188 _sq._).] Among certain peoples it is a regular custom to kill the firstborn child, or the firstborn son. Among some natives of Australia a mother used to kill and eat her first child, as this was believed to strengthen her for later births.[179] In New South Wales the firstborn of every lubra used to be eaten by the tribe "as part of a religious ceremony."[180] In the realm of Khai-muh, in China, according to {459} a native account, it was customary to kill and devour the eldest son alive.[181] Among certain tribes in British Columbia the first child is often sacrificed to the sun.[182] The Indians of Florida, according to Le Moyne de Morgues, sacrificed the firstborn son to the chief.[183] We are told that, among the people of Senjero in Eastern Africa, many families "must offer up their firstborn sons as sacrifices, because once upon a time, when summer and winter were jumbled together in a bad season, and the fruits of the field would not ripen, the sooth-sayers enjoined it."[184] The heathen Russians often sacrificed their firstborn to the god Perun.[185] The rule laid down in Exodus[186] and Numbers,[187] that all the firstborn of men and of beasts belonged to the Lord, but that the former were to be redeemed, seems to indicate the existence of an earlier custom among the Hebrews of offering up as a sacrifice, not only the firstling of an animal, but the firstborn child. As traces of such a custom may probably be regarded the story of Abraham's surrender of his firstborn son to God and the tradition of the origin of the Passover.[188] Among the Hindus, until the beginning of the last century, many parents sacrificed their firstborn to the river Ganges.[189] [Footnote 179: Brinton, _Religions of Primitive Peoples_, p. 17 n.* _Cf._ von Scherzer, _Reise der Oesterreichischen Fregatte Novara um die Erde_, iii. 32.] [Footnote 180: Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, ii. 311.] [Footnote 181: de Groot, _Religious System of China_ (vol. ii. book) i. 679.] [Footnote 182: Boas, in _Fifth Report on the North-Western Tribes of Canada_, pp. 46, 52.] [Footnote 183: Bry, _Narrative of Le Moyne_, Descriptions of the Illustrations, 34, p. 13. _Cf._ Lafitau, _M[oe]urs des sauvages ameriquains_, i. 181; Strachey, _op. cit._ p. 84.] [Footnote 184: Krapf, _Travels_, p. 69 _sq._] [Footnote 185: Mone, quoted by Frazer, _Golden Bough_, ii. 52.] [Footnote 186: _Exodus_, xiii. 2, 15.] [Footnote 187: _Numbers_, xviii. 15.] [Footnote 188: See Ghillany, _op. cit._ p. 494 _sqq._; Kuenen, _Religion of Israel_, ii. 92; Frazer, _op. cit._ ii. 47 _sqq._] [Footnote 189: Rájendralála Mitra, _op. cit._ ii. 70, 76.] In some instances the firstborn seems to be killed, not in sacrifice to a god, but for the purpose of being eaten as a kind of medicine.[190] In other cases the act is a sacrifice in the true sense of the word and, apparently, substitutional in character. Considering that children are occasionally sacrificed to save the lives of their parents, or for the health of the families, or to promote fecundity, it seems probable that the regular sacrifice of the firstborn has similar objects in view. This supposition, indeed, is strongly supported by some statements in which the motive of the act is expressly mentioned.[191] Among the {460} Coast Salish of British Columbia the first child is sacrificed to the sun "to secure health and happiness to the whole family."[192] The same is reported of a neighbouring people, the Kutonaqa. The mother prays to the sun:--"I am with child. When it is born I shall offer it to you. Have pity upon us."[193] Among some tribes of South-Eastern Africa it is a rule that, when a woman's husband has been killed in battle and she marries again, the first child to which she gives birth after her second marriage must be put to death, whether she has it by her first or her second husband. Such a child is called "the child of the assegai," and if it were not killed, death or accident would be sure to befall the second spouse, and the woman herself would be barren.[194] Among some peoples, including the ancient Hindus, we find the belief that the son is in some sense identical with his father, that he is a new birth, a new manifestation of the same person.[195] The new birth might be supposed to endanger the life of the father, just as, according to a notion prevalent among the ancient Teutons[196] and in some parts of Italy,[197] a person would soon die if his name were given to his son or grandson whilst he was still alive. Among the Brazilian Tupis the father was accustomed to take a new name after the birth of each new son;[198] whilst, on killing an enemy, a person used to take the enemy's name so as to annihilate not only his body but also his soul.[199] Among the Kafirs, "if a mother gives birth to twins, one is frequently killed by the father, for the natives think that unless the father places a lump of earth in the mouth of one of the babies he will lose his strength."[200] In some {461} cases the practice of killing the firstborn son might possibly be traced back to a similar belief. But I can quote no fact directly supporting this suggestion. [Footnote 190: _Cf._ _supra_, p. 401.] [Footnote 191: _Cf._ _Micah_, vi. 7: "Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?"] [Footnote 192: Boas, _op. cit._ p. 46.] [Footnote 193: _Ibid._ p. 52.] [Footnote 194: Macdonald, _Light in Africa_, p. 156. Frazer, _op. cit._ ii. 51 _sq._] [Footnote 195: Hartland, _op. cit._ i. 217 _sq._ von den Steinen, _Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens_, p. 336 _sq._ Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Gentium_, p. 98 _sqq._ _Idem_, _Alt-arisches Jus Civile_, i. 189 _sqq._ _Laws of Manu_, ix. 8: "The husband, after conception by his wife, becomes an embryo and is born again of her."] [Footnote 196: Storm, quoted by Noreen, _Spridda Studier_, Anara Samlingen, p. 4.] [Footnote 197: Placucci, _Usi e pregiudizj dei contadini della Romagna_, p. 23.] [Footnote 198: von den Steinen, _op. cit._ p. 337.] [Footnote 199: Staden, quoted by Andree, _Anthropophagie_, p. 103.] [Footnote 200: Kidd, _The Essential Kafir_, p. 202. I am indebted to Mr. N. W. Thomas for drawing my attention to this statement.] Human sacrifices are offered in connection with the foundation of buildings. This is a wide-spread custom, which not only occurs among various uncivilised and semi-civilised peoples of the present day, but which is proved to have existed among the so-called Aryan races.[201] In India we find traces of it in traditions and popular beliefs.[202] The Hindu rajas, we are told, used to lay the foundation of public buildings in human blood.[203] When Mr. Grierson wanted to photograph a Bih[=a]r peasant house, the grandmother of the family refused to allow any of the children to appear in the picture, her reason being that the Government was building the bridge across the Gandak and wanted children to bury under the foundations.[204] Among the ancient Romans the old custom survived in the practice of placing statues or images under the foundations of their buildings.[205] In the island of Zacynthus the peasants to this day believe that in order to secure the durability of important buildings, such as bridges and fortresses, it is desirable to kill a man, especially a Muhammedan or a Jew, and bury him on the spot.[206] South Slavonian folk-tales speak of the immuration of a woman or a child as a foundation sacrifice.[207] In Servia no city was thought to be secure unless a human being, or at least the shadow of one, was built into its walls;[208] and the Bulgarians, when {462} going to build, are still said to take a thread and measure the shadow of some casual passer-by, and then bury the measure under the foundation-stone, expecting that the man whose shadow has been thus treated will soon die.[209] A similar custom prevails in Roumania.[210] According to Nennius, when Dinas Emris in Wales was founded by Gortigern, all the materials collected for the fortress were carried away in one night; and materials were thus gathered thrice, and were thrice carried away. When he then asked of his Druids, "Whence this evil?" the Druids told him that it was necessary to find a child whose father was unknown, put him to death, and sprinkle with his blood the ground on which the citadel was to be built.[211] A Scotch legend tells that, when St. Columba first attempted to build a cathedral on Iona, the walls fell down as they were erected; he then received supernatural information that they would never stand unless a human victim was buried alive, and, in consequence, his companion, Oran, was interred at the foundation of the structure.[212] It is reported that, when not long ago the Bridge Gate of Bremen city walls was demolished, the skeleton of a child was found embedded in the groundwork;[213] and when the new bridge at Halle, finished in 1843, was building, "the common people fancied a child was wanted to be walled into the foundations."[214] [Footnote 201: Sartori, 'Ueber das Bauopfer,' in _Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_, xxx. 5 _sqq._ Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, i. 104 _sqq._ Baring-Gould, _Strange Survivals_, p. 4 _sqq._ Trumbull, _Threshold Covenant_, p. 46 _sqq._ Grant Allen, _Evolution of the Idea of God_, p. 249 _sqq._ Liebrecht, _Zur Volkskunde_, p. 284 _sqq._ Andree, _Ethnographische Parallelen_, p. 18 _sqq._ Nyrop, _Romanske Mosaiker_, p. 63 _sqq._ Krause, 'Das Bauopfer bei den Südslaven,' in _Mittheilungen der Anthropologischen Gesellschaft in Wien_, xvii. 18 _sqq._ Wuttke, _Der deutsche Volksaberglaube der Gegenwart_, § 440, p. 300 _sq._] [Footnote 202: Winternitz, 'Bemerkungen über das Bauopfer bei den Indern,' in _Mittheil. Anthr. Gesellsch. in Wien_, xvii. [37] _sqq._] [Footnote 203: Wheeler, _History of India_, iv. 278.] [Footnote 204: Grierson, _Bih[=a]r Peasant Life_, p. 4.] [Footnote 205: Coote, 'A Building Superstition,' in _Folk-Lore Journal_, i. 23.] [Footnote 206: Schmidt, _Volksleben der Neu-Griechen_, p. 197.] [Footnote 207: Krauss, _loc. cit._ p. 19 _sqq._] [Footnote 208: Ralston, _Songs of the Russian People_, p. 127.] [Footnote 209: _Ibid._ p. 127. Krauss, _loc. cit._ p. 21.] [Footnote 210: _Folk-Lore Record_, iii. 283.] [Footnote 211: Nennius, _Historia Britonum_, Irish Version, ch. 18, p. 93.] [Footnote 212: Gomme, 'Some Traditions and Superstitions connected with Buildings,' in _The Antiquary_, iii. 11. Carmichael, _Carmina Gadelica_, ii. 316.] [Footnote 213: Baring-Gould, _Strange Survivals_, p. 5.] [Footnote 214: Grimm, _Teutonic Mythology_, iii. 1142.] It seems highly probable that the building-sacrifice, like other kinds of human sacrifice, is based on the idea of substitution. A new house or dwelling-place is commonly regarded as dangerous, a wall or a tower is liable to fall down and cause destruction of life, a bridge may break, or the person who crosses it may tumble into the water and be drowned. In the Babar Islands, before entering a new house, offerings are thrown inside, that the spirit, Orloo, may not make the {463} inmates ill.[215] Before the Sandwich Islanders could occupy their houses "offerings were made to the gods, and presents to the priest, who entered the house, uttered prayers, went through other ceremonies, and slept in it before the owner took possession, in order to prevent evil spirits from resorting to it, and to secure its inmates from the effects of incantation."[216] Among the Kayans of Borneo, on the occasion of the king or principal chief taking possession of a newly-built house, a human victim was killed, and the blood was sprinkled on the pillars and under the house.[217] The Russian peasant believes that the building of a new house "is apt to be followed by the death of the head of the family for which the new dwelling is constructed, or that the member of the family who is the first to enter it will soon die"; and, in accordance with a custom of great antiquity, the oldest member of a migrating household enters the new house first.[218] In German folk-tales "the first to cross the bridge, the first to enter the new building or the country, pays with his life."[219] Even nowadays, in the North of Europe, there is a wide-spread fear of being the first to enter a new building or of going over a newly-built bridge; "if to do this is not everywhere and in all cases thought to entail death, it is considered supremely unlucky."[220] This superstition has been interpreted as a survival of a previous sacrifice;[221] but there can be no doubt, I think, that the foundation sacrifice itself owes its origin to similar notions and fears of supernatural dangers. Uncultured people are commonly afraid of anything new, or of doing an act for the first time;[222] and, apart from this, the erecting of a new building is an intrusion upon {464} the land of the local spirit, and therefore likely to arouse its anger. There are houses which remain haunted by spirits all their time.[223] It is natural, then, that attempts should be made to avert the danger. And, human life being at stake, no preventive could be more effective than the offering up of a human victim. [Footnote 215: Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua_, p. 343.] [Footnote 216: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, iv. 322.] [Footnote 217: Burns, 'Kayans of the North-West of Borneo,' in _Journal of the Indian Archipelago_, iii. 145.] [Footnote 218: Ralston, _Songs of the Russian People_, p. 126. _Cf._ Krauss, _loc. cit._ p. 21 _sq._ (Southern Slavs).] [Footnote 219: Grimm, _Teutonic Mythology_, i. 45, n. 2.] [Footnote 220: Baring-Gould, _Strange Survivals_, p. 2. For various instances of similar beliefs, see Sartori, in _Zeitschr. f. Ethnol._ xxx. 14 _sqq._; Crawley, _Mystic Rose_, p. 25.] [Footnote 221: Baring-Gould, _op. cit._ p. 4.] [Footnote 222: Crawley, _op. cit._ p. 25.] [Footnote 223: Westermarck, 'Nature of the Arab _[vG]inn_, illustrated by the Present Beliefs of the People of Morocco,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxix. 253, 260.] On the other hand it is maintained that the foundation-sacrifice is partly, if not exclusively, performed for the purpose of converting the soul of the victim into a protecting demon.[224] This opinion, no doubt, has the support of beliefs actually held by some of the peoples who practise the rite. When the gate of the new city of Tavoy, in Tenasserim, was built, Mason was told by an eye-witness that a criminal was put in each post-hole to become a guardian spirit.[225] The Burmese kings used to have victims buried alive at the gates of their capitals, "so that their spirits might watch over the city."[226] Formerly, in Siam, "when a new city gate was being erected, it was customary for a number of officers to lie in wait near the spot, and seize the first four or eight persons who happened to pass by, and who were then buried alive under the gate-posts, to serve as guardian angels."[227] But whatever be the present notions of certain peoples concerning the object of the building-sacrifice, I do not believe that its primary object could have been to procure a spirit-guardian. According to early ideas, the ghost of a murdered man is not a friendly being, and least of all is he kindly disposed towards those who killed him. Several instances are known in which later generations have put upon human sacrifices an interpretation obviously foreign to their original purpose.[228] Thus, according to a North {465} German tradition, a master-builder was immured by a certain knight in the tower which he had built, as a punishment for boasting that he could have built a still finer tower if he had liked to do so.[229] An Indian raja, we are told, was once building a bridge over the river Jargoat Chunâr, and when it fell down several times he was advised to sacrifice a Brahman girl to the local deity; however, "she has now become the Marî or ghost of the place, and is regularly worshipped in time of trouble."[230] Considering that the foundation-sacrifice was offered for the purpose of protecting the living against the attacks of the spirit of the place, it is quite intelligible that the ghost of the victim came in time to be looked upon as a guardian spirit; and it was all the more natural to attribute to the dead the function of a guard in cases where he was buried at the gate. But he was buried there, I presume, simply because that spot was thought to be the most dangerous. The gate of a town corresponds to the entrance of a house, and the threshold has almost universally been regarded as the proper haunt of what the Moors call "the owners of the place."[231] [Footnote 224: Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, i. 106. Grant Allen, _op. cit._ p. 248 _sqq._ Lippert, _Christenthum, Volksglaube und Volksbrauch_, p. 456 _sq._ _Idem_, _Kulturgeschichte der Menschheit_, ii. 270. Gaidoz, in _Mélusine_, iv. 14 _sqq._ Sartori, in _Zeitsthr. f. Ethnol._ xxx. 32 _sqq._] [Footnote 225: Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, i. 107.] [Footnote 226: Woodthorpe, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. 24. See also Shway Yoe, _The Burman_, i. 286.] [Footnote 227: Alabaster, _Wheel of the Law_, p. 212 _sq._ _Cf._ Gaidoz, _loc. cit._ p. 14 _sq._] [Footnote 228: See Nyrop, _Romanske Mosaiker_, p. 73 _sqq._; also _infra_, p. 465 _sq._] [Footnote 229: Nyrop, _op. cit._ p. 73.] [Footnote 230: Crooke, _Popular Religion of Northern India_, ii. 174.] [Footnote 231: See Trumbull, _Threshold Covenant_, _passim_.] Whilst the man who is sacrificed is in some cases described as a guardian, he is in other cases regarded as a messenger. The Mayas of Yucatan maintained that the human victims whom they offered in times of distress were sent as messengers to the spirit-world to make known the wants of the people.[232] The same idea prevailed in Great Benin. When the head jujuman had said the prayer in which he asked Ogiwo to let no sickness come for Benin, he thus addressed the slaves who were going to be clubbed to death and tied in the sacrifice-trees:--"So you shall tell Ogiwo. Salute him proper."[233] A message was likewise sent to the head juju with the slave who was sacrificed to it;[234] and a message saluting the rain-god was put in the {466} mouth of the woman who was sacrificed when there was too much rain.[235] Mr. Ling Roth suggests that the main object of the human sacrifices which were offered in Benin "was the sending of prayers, by means of the special messengers, for the welfare of the community, to the spirits of the departed, or to other spirits, such as the spirits of the beads, the Rain-God, Sun-God, the God-Ogiwo"; and he thinks that this explains "a cult of world-wide prevalence."[236] But considering that in Yucatan and Benin, as elsewhere, the human victim was sacrificed for the avowed purpose of averting some mortal danger from the community or the king, I conclude that there, also, the primary object of the rite was to offer a substitute, though this substitute came to be used as a messenger. [Footnote 232: Dorman, _op. cit._ p. 213.] [Footnote 233: Moor and Roupell, quoted by Read and Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 7; also by Ling Roth, _Great Benin_, p. 72.] [Footnote 234: _Supra_, p. 456.] [Footnote 235: _Supra_, p. 444.] [Footnote 236: Ling Roth, _op. cit._ p. 72.] I do not affirm that the practice of human sacrifice is in every case based on the idea of substitution; the notion that a certain god has a desire for such sacrifices may no doubt induce his worshippers to gratify this desire for a variety of purposes. But I think there is sufficient evidence to prove that, when men offer the lives of their fellow-men in sacrifice to their gods, they do so as a rule in the hopes of thereby saving their own. Human sacrifice is essentially a method of life-insurance--absurd, no doubt, according to our ideas, but not an act of wanton cruelty. When practised for the benefit of the community or in a case of national distress, it is hardly more cruel than to advocate the infliction of capital punishment on the ground of social expediency, or to compel thousands of men to suffer death on the battle-field on behalf of their country. The custom of human sacrifice admits that the life of one is taken to save the lives of many, or that an inferior individual is put to death for the purpose of preventing the death of somebody who has a higher right to live. Sometimes the king or chief is sacrificed in times of scarcity or pestilence, but then he is probably held personally responsible for the calamity.[237] Very frequently {467} the victims are prisoners of war or other aliens, or slaves, or criminals, that is, persons whose lives are held in little regard. And in many cases these are the only victims allowed by custom. [Footnote 237: Frazer, _Golden Bough_, i. 15 _sq._] This was generally the case among the ancient Teutons,[238] though they sometimes deemed a human sacrifice the more efficacious the more distinguished the victim, and the nearer his relationship to him who offered the sacrifice.[239] The Gauls, says Cæsar, "consider that the oblation of such as have been taken in theft, or robbery, or any other offence, is more acceptable to the immortal gods; but when a supply of that class is wanting, they have recourse to the oblation of even the innocent."[240] Diodorus Siculus states that the Carthaginians in former times used to sacrifice to Saturn the sons of the most eminent persons, but that, of later times, they secretly bought and bred up children for that purpose.[241] The chief aim of the wars of the ancient Mexicans was to make prisoners for sacrificial purposes; other victims were slaves who were purchased for this object, and many criminals "who were condemned to expiate their crimes by the sacrifice of their lives."[242] The Yucatans sacrificed captives taken in war, and only if such victims were wanting they dedicated their children to the altar "rather than let the gods be deprived of their due."[243] In Guatemala the victims were slaves or captives or, among the Pipiles, illegitimate children from six to twelve years old who belonged to the tribe.[244] In Florida the human victim who was offered up at harvest time was chosen from among the Spaniards wrecked on the coast.[245] Of the Peruvian Indians before the time of the Incas, Garcilasso de la Vega states that, "besides ordinary things such as animals and maize, they sacrificed men and women of all ages, being captives taken in wars which they made against each other."[246] Among the Tshi-speaking peoples of the Gold Coast, "the persons ordinarily sacrificed to the gods are prisoners of war or slaves. When the latter, they are usually aliens, as a protecting god is not so well satisfied with the sacrifice of his own people."[247] In Great Benin, according to Captain Roupell, the people who were kept for sacrifice were bad men, or men with bad sickness, {468} and they were all slaves.[248] In Fiji the victims were generally prisoners of war, but sometimes they were slaves procured by purchase from other tribes.[249] In Nukahiva "the custom of the country requires that the men destined for sacrifice should belong to some neighbouring nation, and accordingly they are generally stolen."[250] In Tahiti "the unhappy wretches selected were either captives taken in war, or individuals who had rendered themselves obnoxious to the chiefs or the priests.**"[251] The Muruts of Borneo "never sacrifice one of their own people, but either capture an individual of a hostile tribe, or send to a friendly tribe to purchase a slave for the purpose."[252] It is said to be contrary to the Káyán custom to sell or sacrifice one of their own nation.[253] The G[=a]ro hill tribes "generally select their victims out of the Bengali villages in the plains."[254] The Kandhs considered that the victim must be a stranger. "If we spill our own blood," they said, "we shall have no descendants";[255] and even the children of Meriahs, who were reared for sacrificial purposes, were never offered up in the village of their birth.[256] [Footnote 238: Grimm, _Teutonic Mythology_, i. 45.] [Footnote 239: Holtzmann, _Deutsche Mythologie_, p. 232.] [Footnote 240: Cæsar, _De bello gallico_, vi. 16.] [Footnote 241: Diodorus Siculus, xx. 14.] [Footnote 242: Clavigero, _op. cit._ i. 282.] [Footnote 243: Bancroft, _op. cit._ ii. 704.] [Footnote 244: Stoll, _op. cit._ p. 40.] [Footnote 245: Bry, _op. cit._ p. 11.] [Footnote 246: Garcilasso de la Vega, _op. cit._ i. 50.] [Footnote 247: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples_, p. 170.] [Footnote 248: Ling Roth, _Great Benin_, p. 70.] [Footnote 249: Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 57. _Cf._ Wilkes, _op. cit._ iii. 97.] [Footnote 250: Lisiansky, _op. cit._ p. 81 _sq._] [Footnote 251: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 346.] [Footnote 252: Denison, quoted by Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, ii. 216.] [Footnote 253: Burns, in _Jour. of Indian Archipelago_, iii. 145.] [Footnote 254: Godwin-Austen, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ ii. 394.] [Footnote 255: Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 121.] [Footnote 256: Campbell, _Wild Tribes of Khondistan_, p. 53.] We find that various peoples who at a certain period have been addicted to the practice of human sacrifice, have afterwards, at a more advanced stage of civilisation, voluntarily given it up. The cause of this is partly an increase, or expansion, of the sympathetic sentiment, partly a change of ideas. With the growth of enlightenment men would lose faith in this childish method of substitution, and consequently find it not only useless, but objectionable; and any sentimental disinclination to the practice would by itself, in the course of time, lead to the belief that the deity no longer cares for it, or is averse to it. Brahmanism gradually abolished the immolation of human victims, incompatible as it was with the precept of _ahimsâ_, or respect for everything that has life; "the liberation of the victim, or the substitution in its stead and place of a {469} figure made of flour paste, both of which were at first matter of sufferance, became at length matter of requirement."[257] According to the Mahabharata, the priest who performs a human sacrifice is cast into hell.[258] In Greece, in the historic age, the practice was held in horror at least by all the better minds, though it was regarded as necessary on certain occasions.[259] It was strongly condemned by enlightened Romans. Cicero speaks of it as a "monstrous and barbarous practice" still disgracing Gaul in his day;[260] and Pliny, referring to the steps taken by Tiberius to stop it, declares it impossible to estimate the debt of the world to the Romans for their efforts to put it down.[261] [Footnote 257: Barth, _Religions of India_, p. 97.] [Footnote 258: _Supra_, p. 458.] [Footnote 259: Stengel, _op. cit._ p. 117. _Cf._ Donaldson, _loc. cit._ p. 464.] [Footnote 260: Cicero, _Pro Fonteio_, 10 (21).] [Footnote 261: Pliny, _Historia naturalis_, xxx. 4 (1).] The growing reluctance to offer human sacrifice led to various practices intended to replace it.[262] Speaking of the Italian custom of dedicating as a sacrifice to the gods every creature that should be born in the following spring, Festus adds that, since it seemed cruel to kill innocent boys and girls, they were kept till they had grown up, then veiled and driven beyond the boundaries.[263] Among various peoples human effigies or animals were offered instead of men. [Footnote 262: _Cf._ Krause, 'Die Ablösung der Menschenopfer,' in _Kosmos_, 1878, iii. 76 _sqq._] [Footnote 263: Festus, _op. cit._ 'Ver sacrum,' p. 379.] Among the Malays of the Malay Peninsula dough models of human beings, actually called "the substitutes," are offered up to the spirits on the sacrificial trays; and in the same sense are the directions of magicians, that "if the spirit craves a human victim a cock may be substituted."[264] We are told that, in Egypt, King Amosis ordered three waxen images to be burned in the temple of Heliopolis in lieu of the three men who in earlier times used to be sacrificed there.[265] The Romans offered dolls;[266] and in old Hindu families belonging to the sect of the Vámácháris a practice still obtains of sacrificing an effigy {470} instead of a living man.[267] In India, Greece, and Rome, animals, also, were substituted for human victims.[268] Of a similar substitution there is probably a trace in the Biblical story of Isaac being exchanged for a ram, and in the paschal sacrifice.[269] On the Gold Coast the human victim who was formerly sacrificed to the god of the Prah is nowadays replaced by a bullock which is specially reserved and fattened for the purpose.[270] [Footnote 264: Skeat, _Malay Magic_, p. 72.] [Footnote 265: Porphyry, _op. cit._ ii. 55.] [Footnote 266: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 272 _sqq._] [Footnote 267: Rájendralála Mitra, _op. cit._ ii. 109 _sq._] [Footnote 268: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 267 _sqq._ Frazer, _Golden Bough_, ii. 38, n. 2. Pausanias, ix. 8. 2. For various modifications of human sacrifice in India, see Wilson, _Works_, ii. 267 _sq._; Crooke, _Popular Religion of Northern India_, ii. 175 _sq._] [Footnote 269: See _supra_, p. 458.] [Footnote 270: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples_, p. 66.] In other cases human sacrifices have been succeeded by practices involving the effusion of human blood without loss of life. We are told that, in Laconia, Lycurgus established the scourging of lads at the altar of Artemis Orthia, in place of the sacrifice of men, which had previously been offered to her;[271] and Euripides represents Athena as ordaining that, when the people celebrate the festival of Artemis the Taurian goddess, the priest, to compensate her for the sacrifice of Orestes, "must hold his knife to a human throat, and blood must flow to satisfy the sacred claims of the goddess, that she may have her honours."[272] There are also many instances of bleeding or mutilation practised for the same purpose as human sacrifice, probably according to the principle of _pars pro toto_, though it is impossible to decide whether they really are survivals of an earlier sacrifice. [Footnote 271: Pausanias, ix. 16. 10.] [Footnote 272: Euripides, _Iphigenia in Tauris_, 1458 _sqq._] Besides the ceremony of _nawgia_, already described,[273] the Tonga Islanders had another ceremony called _tootoo-nima_, or cutting off a portion of the little finger, as a sacrifice to the gods, for the recovery of a superior relation who was ill; and so commonly was this done that, in Mariner's days, there was scarcely a person living in the Tonga Islands who had not lost one or both little fingers, or at least a considerable portion of them.[274] In Chinese literature there are frequently mentioned instances of persons cutting off flesh from their bodies to cure parents or paternal grandparents dangerously ill. In most cases {471} it remains unmentioned how the flesh was prepared; but it is sometimes stated that porridge or broth was made of it, or that it was mixed with medicine. Dr. de Groot maintains that it was in the first place the ascription of therapeutic virtues to parts of the human body that prompted such filial self-mutilation. But he adds that "often also we read of thigh-cutters invoking Heaven beforehand, solemnly asking this highest power to accept their own bodies as a substitute for the patients' lives they wanted to save; their mutilation thus assuming the character of self-immolation."[275] According to the testimony of a native writer, there is scarcely a respectable house in all Bengal, the mistress of which has not at one time or other shed her blood, under the notion of satisfying the goddess Chandiká by the operation. "Whenever her husband or a son is dangerously ill, a vow is made that on the recovery of the patient, the goddess would be regaled with human blood. . . . The lady performs certain ceremonies, and then bares her breast in the presence of the goddess, and with a nail-cutter (_naruna_) draws a few drops of blood from between her breasts and offers them to the divinity."[276] Garcilasso de la Vega states that, whilst some of the Peruvian Indians before the time of the Incas sacrificed men, there were others who, though they mixed human blood in their sacrifices, did not obtain it by killing anyone, but by bleeding the arms and legs, according to the importance of the sacrifice, and, in the most solemn cases, by bleeding the root of the nose where it is joined by the eyebrows.[277] [Footnote 273: _Supra_, p. 455.] [Footnote 274: Mariner, _op. cit._ ii. 222.] [Footnote 275: de Groot, _Religious System of China_, (vol, iv. book) ii. 386 _sq._] [Footnote 276: Rájendralála Mitra, _op. cit._ i. 111 _sq._] [Footnote 277: Garcilasso de la Vega, _op. cit._ i. 52.] There is one form of human sacrifice which has outlived all others, namely, the penal sacrifice of offenders. There can be no moral scruples in regard to a rite which involves a punishment regarded as just. Indeed, this kind of human sacrifice is even found where the offering of animals or lifeless things has fallen out of use or become a mere symbol. For this is the only sacrifice which is intended to propitiate the deity by the mere death of the victim; and gods are believed to be capable of feeling anger and revenge long after they have ceased to have material needs. The last trace of human sacrifice has {472} disappeared only when men no longer punish offenders capitally with a view to appeasing resentful gods. * * * * * Human beings are sacrificed not only to gods, but to dead men, in order to serve them as companions or servants, or to vivify their spirits, or to gratify their craving for revenge. From various quarters of the world we hear of the immolation of men for the service of the dead, the victims generally being slaves, wives, or captives of war, or, sometimes, friends.[278] This rite occurs or has occurred, more or less extensively, in Borneo[279] and the Philippine Islands,[280] in Melanesia and Polynesia,[281] in many different parts of Africa,[282] and among some American tribes.[283] In America, however, it was carried to its height by the more civilised nations of Central America and Mexico, Bogota and Peru.[284] There is evidence to show that the funeral ceremonies {473} of the ancient Egyptians occasionally included human sacrifice at the gate of the tomb, although the practice would seem to have been exceptional, at any rate after Egypt had entered upon her period of greatness.[285] It has been suggested that in China the burial of living persons with the dead dates from the darkest mist of ages, and that the cases on record in the native books are of relatively modern date only because in high antiquity the custom was so common, that it did not occur to the annalists and chroniclers to set down such everyday matters as anything remarkable.[286] In the fourteenth century of our era, the funeral sacrifice of men was abolished, even for emperors and members of the imperial family,[287] but it has assumed a modified shape under which it still maintains itself in China. "Daughters, daughters-in-law, and widows especially imbued with the doctrine that they are the property of their dead parents, parents-in-law, and husbands, and accordingly owe them the highest degree of submissive devotion, often take their lives, in order to follow them into the next world." And though it has been enacted that no official distinctions shall be awarded to such suttees, whereas honours are granted to widowed wives, concubines, and brides who, instead of destroying themselves, simply abjure matrimonial life for good, sutteeism of widows and brides still meets with the same applause as ever, and many a woman is no doubt prevailed upon, or even compelled, by her own relations, to become a suttee.[288] Professor Schrader observes that "it is no longer possible to doubt that ancient Indo-Germanic custom ordained that the wife should die with her husband."[289] It has been argued, it is true, that the burning of widows begins rather late in India;[290] yet, though the modern ordinance of suttee-burning be a corrupt departure {474} from the early Brahmanic ritual, the practice seems to be, not a new invention by the later Hindu priesthood, but the revival of an ancient rite belonging originally to a period even earlier than the Veda.[291] In the Vedic ritual there are ceremonies which obviously indicate the previous existence of such a rite.[292] From Greece we have the instances of Evadne throwing herself into the funeral pile of her husband,[293] and of the suicide of the three Messenian widows mentioned by Pausanias.[294] Sacrifice of widows occurred, as it seems as a regular custom, among the Scandinavians,[295] Heruli,[296] and Slavonians.[297] "The fact," says Mr. Ralston, "that, in Slavonic lands, a thousand years ago, widows used to destroy themselves in order to accompany their dead husbands to the world of spirits, seems to rest on incontestable evidence"; and if the dead was a man of means and distinction, he was also solaced by the sacrifice of his slaves.[298] Funeral offerings of slaves occurred among the Teutons[299] and the Gauls of Cæsar's time;[300] and in the Iliad we read of twelve captives being laid on the funeral pile of Patroclus.[301] [Footnote 278: See Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, i. 458 _sqq._; Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, i. 203 _sqq._; Liebrecht, _Zur Volkskunde_, p. 380 _sq._; Schneider, _Naturvölker_, i. 202 _sqq._; Hehn, _op. cit._ p. 416 _sqq._; Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 125 _sq._; Frazer, _Pausanias_, iii. 199 _sq._] [Footnote 279: Brooke, _Ten Years in Saráwak_, i. 74. Hose and McDougall, 'Relations between Men and Animals in Sarawak,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 207 _sq._ Bock, _Head-Hunters of Borneo_, pp. 210 n., 219 _sq._] [Footnote 280: Blumentritt, 'Der Ahnencultus und die religiösen Anschauungen der Malaien des Philippinen Archipels,' in _Mittheilungen d. Geograph. Gesellsch. in Wien_, xxv. 152 _sq._] [Footnote 281: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 125 _sq._ Brenchley, _op. cit._ p. 208 (natives of Tana). Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 161 _sq._ (Fijians). Lisiansky, _op. cit._ p. 81 (Nukahivans). Mariner, _op. cit._ ii. 220 _sq._ (Tonga Islanders). Taylor, _Te Ika a Maui_, p. 218 (Maoris). von Kotzebue, _op. cit._ iii. 247 (Sandwich Islanders).] [Footnote 282: Rowley, _Africa Unveiled_, p. 127. _Idem_, _Religion of the Africans_, p. 102 _sq._ Schneider, _Religion der afrikanischen Naturvölker_, p. 118 _sqq._ Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 125. Ramseyer and Kühne, _Four Years in Ashantee_, p. 50. Mockler-Ferryman, _British Nigeria_, pp. 235, 259 _sqq._ Burton, _Mission to Gelele_, ii. 19 _sqq._ (Dahomans). _Idem_, _Abeokuta_, i. 220 _sq._ _Idem_, _Lake Regions of Central Africa_, i. 124 (Wadoe); ii. 25 _sq._ (Wanyamwezi). Wilson, _Western Africa_, pp. 203, 219. Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 159 _sqq._ _Idem_, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, pp. 117, 118, 121 _sqq._ Nachtigal, _Sahara und Sudan_, ii. 687 (Somraï and Njillem). Baker, _Ismaïlia_, p. 317 _sq._ (Wanyoro). Casati, _Ten Years in Equatoria_, i. 170 (Mambettu). Callaway, _Religious System of the Amazulu_, p. 212 _sq._] [Footnote 283: Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, i. 204. Dorman, _op. cit._ p. 210 _sqq._ Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 125. Macfie, _Vancouver Island and British Columbia_, p. 448. Charlevoix, _Voyage to North America_, ii. 196 _sq._ (Natchez). Rochefort, _Histoire naturelle et morale des Iles Antilles_, p. 568 _sq._ (Caribs).] [Footnote 284: Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, i. 461. Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, i. 205. Dorman, _op. cit._ p. 212 _sqq._ Acosta, _op. cit._ ii. 313, 314, 344 (Peruvians).] [Footnote 285: Wiedemann, _Ancient Egyptian Doctrine of the Immortality of the Soul_, p. 62 n.] [Footnote 286: de Groot, _op. cit._ (vol. ii. book) i. 721.] [Footnote 287: _Ibid._ (vol. ii. book) i. 724.] [Footnote 288: _Ibid._ (vol. ii. book) i. 735, 754, 748.] [Footnote 289: Schrader, _Prehistoric Antiquities of the Aryan Peoples_, p. 391.] [Footnote 290: Hopkins, _op. cit._ p. 274.] [Footnote 291: Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, i. 465 _sqq._ Zimmer, _Altindisches Leben_, p. 331.] [Footnote 292: _Rig-Veda_, x. 18. 8 _sq._ Macdonell, _Vedic Mythology_, p. 165. Hillebrandt, 'Eine Miscelle aus dem Vedaritual,' in _Zeitschr. d. Deutschen Morgenländ. Gesellsch._ xl. 711. Oldenberg, _Religion des Veda_, p. 587.] [Footnote 293: Euripides, _Supplices_, 1000 _sqq._] [Footnote 294: Pausanias, iv. 2. 7.] [Footnote 295: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 451.] [Footnote 296: Procopius, _op. cit._ ii. 14.] [Footnote 297: Dithmar of Merseburg, _Chronicon_, viii. 2 (Pertz, _Monumenta Germaniæ historica_, v. 861). Zimmer, _op. cit._ p. 330.] [Footnote 298: Ralston, _Songs of the Russian People_, p. 327 _sq._] [Footnote 299: Grimm, _op. cit._ p. 344.] [Footnote 300: Cæsar, _De bello gallico_, vi. 19. In the ancient annals of the Irish there is one trace of human sacrifice being offered as a funeral rite (Cusack, _History of the Irish Nation_, p. 115 n.*).] [Footnote 301: _Iliad_, xxiii. 175.] According to early notions, men require wives and servants not only during their life-time, but after their death. The surviving relatives want to satisfy their needs, out of affection or from fear of withholding from the dead what belongs to them--their wives and their slaves. The destruction of innocent life seems justified by the low social standing of the victims and their subjection to their husbands or masters. However, with advancing civilisation this sacrifice has a tendency to {475} disappear, partly, perhaps, on account of a change of ideas as regards the state after death, but chiefly, I presume, because it becomes revolting to public feelings. It then dwindles into a survival. As a probable instance of this may be mentioned a custom prevalent among the Tacullies of North America: the widow is compelled by the kinsfolk of the deceased to lie on the funeral pile where the body of her husband is placed, whilst the fire is lighting, until the heat becomes intolerable.[302] In ancient Egypt little images of clay, or wood, or stone, or bronze, made in human likeness and inscribed with a certain formula, were placed within the tomb, presumably in the hopes that they would there attain to life and become the useful servants of the dead.[303] So also the Japanese[304] and Chinese, already in early times, placed images in, or at, the tombs of their dead as substitutes for human victims; and these images have always been considered to have no less virtual existence in the next world than living servitors, wives, or concubines. In China the original immolations were, moreover, replaced by the custom of allowing the nearest relatives and slaves of the deceased simply to settle on the tomb, instead of entering it, there to sacrifice to the manes, and by prohibiting widows from remarrying.[305] [Footnote 302: Wilkes, _U.S. Exploring Expedition_, iv. 453.] [Footnote 303: Wiedemann, _Ancient Egyptian Doctrine of the Immortality of the Soul_, p. 63.] [Footnote 304: Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, i. 463.] [Footnote 305: de Groot, _op. cit._ (vol. ii. book) i. 794 _sqq._] The practice of sacrificing human beings to the dead is not exclusively based on the idea that they require servants and companions. It is extremely probable that the funeral sacrifice of men and animals in many cases involves an intention to vivify the spirits of the deceased with the warm, red sap of life.[306] This seems to be the meaning of the Dahoman custom of pouring blood over the graves of the ancestors of the king.[307] So, also, in Ashanti "human sacrifices are frequent and ordinary, to {476} water the graves of the Kings."[308] In the German folk-tale known under the name of 'Faithful John,' the statue said to the King, "If you, with your own hand, cut off the heads of both your children, and sprinkle me with their blood, I shall be brought to life again."[309] According to primitive ideas, blood is life; to receive blood is to receive life; the soul of the dead wants to live, and consequently loves blood. The shades in Hades are eager to drink the blood of Odysseus' sacrifice, that their life may be renewed for a time.[310] And it is all the more important that the soul should get what it desires as it otherwise may come and attack the living. The belief that the bloodless shades leave their graves at night and seek renewed life by drawing the blood of the living, is prevalent in many parts of the world.[311] As late as the eighteenth century this belief caused an epidemic of fear in Hungary, resulting in a general disinterment, and the burning or staking of the suspected bodies.[312] It is also possible that the mutilations and self-bleedings which accompany funerals are partly practised for the purpose of refreshing the departed soul.[313] The Samoans called it "an offering of blood" for the dead when the mourners beat their heads with stones till the blood ran.[314] [Footnote 306: _Cf._ Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, i. 288 _sq._; Rockholz, _Deutscher Glaube und Brauch_, i. 55; Sepp, _Völkerbrauch bei Hochzeit, Geburt und Tod_, p. 154; Trumbull, _Blood Covenant_, p. 110 _sqq._] [Footnote 307: Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 51 _sq._] [Footnote 308: Bowdich, _Mission from Cape Castle to Ashantee_, p. 289.] [Footnote 309: Grimm, _Kinder- und Hausmärchen_, p. 29 _sq._] [Footnote 310: _Odyssey_, xi. 153.] [Footnote 311: Trumbull, _Blood Covenant_, p. 114 _sq._] [Footnote 312: Farrer, _Primitive Manners and Customs_, p. 23 _sq._] [Footnote 313: _Cf._ Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, i. 181 _sq._] [Footnote 314: Turner, _Nineteen Years in Polynesia_, p. 227.] Finally, as offenders are sacrificed to gods in order to appease their wrath, so manslayers are in many cases killed in order to satisfy their victims' craving for revenge. In the next chapter we shall see that the execution of blood-revenge largely falls under the heading of "human sacrifice for the dead." CHAPTER XX BLOOD-REVENGE AND COMPENSATION--THE PUNISHMENT OF DEATH ACCORDING to early custom, a person who takes the life of another may himself be killed by the relatives of his victim, or some other member of his family, clan, or tribe may be killed in his stead.[1] The custom of blood-revenge is found among a host of existing savages and barbarians, and has long survived among many peoples who have reached a higher degree of culture. [Footnote 1: The collective responsibility usually involved in the blood-feud has been discussed _supra_, p. 30 _sqq._] We meet with blood-revenge in the midst of Japanese civilisation, not as a mere fact, but as a legally permitted custom. The avenger had only to observe certain prescribed formalities and regulations: there was a regular official to whom he must announce his resolve, and he must fix the time within which he would carry it out. The way in which the enemy was killed was of no importance, except that, even in ancient times, the man who had recourse to assassination was reprehensible.[2] Among the Hebrews blood-revenge continued to exist during the periods of the Judges and Kings, and even later; under the Old Kingdom, says Wellhausen, "the administration of justice was at best but a scanty supplement to the practice of self-help."[3] It is a rule among {478} all the Arabs that whoever sheds the blood of a man owes blood on that account to the family of the slain person.[4] Says the Koran:--"O ye who believe! Retaliation is prescribed for you for the slain."[5] In ancient Eran blood-revenge survived the establishment of tribunals.[6] There is evidence left of its prevalence in early times among the Aryan population of India, though no mention is made in the Sûtras of blood revenge as an existing custom.[7] Among the Greeks it was only in the post-Homeric age that it was given up as a fundamental principle, the avenger being transformed into an accuser.[8] In Gaul and Ireland, though justice was administered by Druids or Brehons, their judgments seem to have been merely awards founded upon a submission to arbitration, the injured person being at liberty to take the law into his own hands and redress himself.[9] In the preface to the Senchus Mór we read that retaliation prevailed in Erin before Patrick, and that Patrick brought forgiveness with him.[10] Among the clans of Scotland, as is well known, the blood-feud has existed up to quite modern times; in the Catholic period even the Church recognised its power by leaving the right hand of male children unchristened, that it might deal the more unhallowed and deadly a blow to the enemy.[11] In England it was at least theoretically possible down to the middle of the tenth century for a manslayer to elect to bear the feud of the kindred of the slain, instead of paying the _wer_;[12] and long after the Conquest we still meet with a law against the system of {479} private revenge.[13] In Frisland, Lower Saxony, and parts of Switzerland, the blood-feud was practised as late as the sixteenth century.[14] In Italy it prevailed extensively, even among the upper classes, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.[15] In Corsica,[16] Albania,[17] and Montenegro,[18] it exists even to this day. [Footnote 2: Rein, _Japan_, p. 326. Dautremer, 'The Vendetta or Legal Revenge in Japan,' in _Trans. Asiatic Soc. Japan_, xiii. 84 _sq._] [Footnote 3: Wellhausen, _Prolegomena to the History of Israel_, p. 467.] [Footnote 4: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 85.] [Footnote 5: _Koran_, ii. 173. _Cf._ _ibid._ xvii. 35.] [Footnote 6: Geiger, _Civilization of the Eastern Ir[=a]nians_, ii. 31 _sqq._] [Footnote 7: Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Gentium_, p. 422.] [Footnote 8: _Idem_, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, § 50 _sq._, especially pp. 375, 381. In Rome blood-revenge appears to have been very early suppressed. There is an echo of it in certain legends, but even in them it is represented as objectionable (Mommsen, _History of Rome_, i. 190).] [Footnote 9: Maine, _Early History of Institutions_, lect. ii. d'Arbois de Jubainville, 'Des attributions judiciaires de l'autorité publique chez les Celtes,' in _Revue Celtique_, vii. 5. _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, iii. p. lxxxix.] [Footnote 10: Skene, _Celtic Scotland_, iii. 152.] [Footnote 11: Mackintosh, _History of Civilisation in Scotland_, ii. 279.] [Footnote 12: Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the Time of Edward I._ i. 48.] [Footnote 13: Cherry, _Growth of Criminal Law in Ancient Communities_, p. 85.] [Footnote 14: Günther, _Idee der Wiedervergeltung_, i. 207 _sq._ Frauenstädt, _Blutrache und Todtschlagsühne im Deutschen Mittelalter_, p. 21. _Cf._ Arnold, _Deutsche Urzeit_, p. 342.] [Footnote 15: Simonde de Sismondi, _Histoire des républiques italiennes du moyen âge_, xvi. 456.] [Footnote 16: Gregorovius, _Wanderings in Corsica_, i. 176 _sqq._] [Footnote 17: Gop[vc]evi['c], _Oberalbanien und seine Liga_, p. 322 _sqq._] [Footnote 18: Kohl, _Reise nach Istrien_, i. 406 _sqq._ Popovi['c], _Recht und Gericht in Montenegro_, p. 69.] Blood-revenge is regarded not only as a right, but as a duty. We are told that the holiest duty a West Australian native is called on to perform is that of avenging the death of his nearest relation. "Until he has fulfilled this task, he is constantly taunted by the old women; his wives, if he be married, would soon quit him; if he is unmarried, not a single young woman would speak to him; his mother would constantly cry, and lament she should ever have given birth to so degenerate a son; his father would treat him with contempt, and reproaches would constantly be sounded in his ear."[19] Among the tribes of Western Victoria "a man would consider it his bounden duty to kill his most intimate friend for the purpose of avenging a brother's death, and would do so without the slightest hesitation."[20] In his description of the Eskimo about Behring Strait, Mr. Nelson states that blood-revenge is considered a sacred duty among all the Eskimo, a duty incumbent on the nearest male relative; if the son of the murdered man is an infant, it rests with him to seek revenge as soon as he attains puberty.[21] Among the Dacotahs "no one can escape this law of retaliation; public opinion would brand with disgrace whoever fled under such circumstances."[22] The Brazilian aborigines {480} consider it a moral obligation, a matter of conscience, for a son, a brother, or a nephew, to avenge the death of his relative.[23] Speaking of the Guiana Indians, Sir E. F. Im Thurn observes that, "in all primitive societies where there are no written laws and no supreme authority to enforce justice, such vengeance has been held as a sacred duty."[24] Confucius affirmed, in the strongest and most unrestricted terms, the duty of avenging the murder of a father or a brother.[25] In Japan "the man who was weak enough not to try to put to death the murderer of his father or his lord, was obliged to flee into hiding; from that day, he was despised by his own companions."[26] The Lord said to Moses:--"The revenger of blood himself shall slay the murderer; when he meeteth him, he shall slay him."[27] A similar rule, as we have seen, is laid down in the Koran.[28] The idea that blood-revenge is a sacred duty incumbent on the kindred of the deceased was probably held by all so-called Aryan peoples.[29] It still prevails in Albania,[30] Montenegro,[31] and Corsica. "Not to take revenge is considered by the genuine Corsicans as degrading. . . . Any one who shrinks from avenging himself . . . is allowed no rest by his relations, and all his acquaintances upbraid him with pusillanimity."[32] [Footnote 19: Grey, _Journals of Expeditions of Discovery in North-West and Western Australia_, ii. 240.] [Footnote 20: Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 71.] [Footnote 21: Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. p. 292 _sq._] [Footnote 22: Domenech, _Seven Years' Residence in the Great Deserts of North America_, ii. 338.] [Footnote 23: von Martius, _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 128.] [Footnote 24: Im Thurn, _Among the Indians of Guiana_, p. 329 _sq._] [Footnote 25: Legge, _Chinese Classics_, i. 111. Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 145.] [Footnote 26: Dautremer, _loc. cit._ p. 83. _Cf._ Griffis, _Corea_, p. 227 (Coreans).] [Footnote 27: _Numbers_, xxxv. 19.] [Footnote 28: For modern Arabs, see Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 313 _sq._; Blunt, _Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates_, ii. 207.] [Footnote 29: Geiger, _op. cit._ ii. 32 (Avesta people). Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Gentium_, p. 422. _Idem_, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 323 _sqq._ de Valroger, _op. cit._ p. 472 (Celts). Nordström, _Bidrag till den svenska samhälls-författningens historia_, ii. 229; Stemann, _Den Danske Retshistorie indtil Christian V.'s Lov_, p. 574; Keyser, _Efterladte Skrifter_, ii. pt. ii. 95; Rosenberg, _Nordboernes Aandsliv_, i. 487 (Teutons). Miklosich, 'Die Blutrache bei den Slaven,' in _Denkschriften der kaiserl. Akademie d. Wissensch. Philos. histor. Classe_, Vienna, xxxvi. 127 _sqq._ Ewers, _Das alteste Recht der Russen_, p. 50 _sq._] [Footnote 30: Hahn, _Albanesische Studien_, i. 176.] [Footnote 31: Popovi['c], _op. cit._ p. 69. Kohl, _op. cit._ i. 409, 413 _sqq._ Miklosich, _loc. cit._ p. 145.] [Footnote 32: Gregorovius, _op. cit._ i. 180 _sq._ For other instances of blood-revenge as a duty, see Boas, 'Central Eskimo,' _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ vi. 582; Petroff, 'Report on Alaska,' in _Tenth Census of the United States_, p. 158 (Atkha Aleuts); Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ vii. 376 (Papuans of New Guinea); Modigliani, _Viaggio a Nías_, p. 471; Bowring, _Visit to the Philippine Islands_, p. 177; Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 82 (Kandhs); Radde, _Die Chews'uren_, p. 115; von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 406 _sqq._ (Ossetes); Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 87; Mungo Park, _Travels in the Interior of Africa_, p. 13 (Feloops bordering on the Gambia); Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse von eingeborenen Völkern in Afrika und Ozeanien_, p. 23 (Bakwiri); _ibid._ p. 49 (Banaka and Bapuku); Nicole, _ibid._ p. 132 (Diakité-Sarrakolese); Lang, _ibid._ p. 256 _sq._ (Washambala); Kraft, _ibid._ p. 292 (Wapokomo); Viehe, _ibid._ p. 311 (Ovaherero); Rautanen, _ibid._ p. 341 (Ondonga); Sorge, _ibid._ p. 418 (Nissan Islanders in the Bismarck Archipelago).] {481} The duty of blood-revenge is, in the first place, regarded as a duty to the dead, not merely because he has been deprived of his highest good, his life, but because his spirit is believed to find no rest after death until the injury has been avenged.[33] The disembodied soul carries into its new existence an eager longing for revenge, and, till the crime has been duly expiated, hovers about the earth, molesting the manslayer or trying to compel its own relatives to take vengeance on him. [Footnote 33: See Kohler, _Shakespeare vor dem Forum der Jurisprudenz_, p. 131 _sq._; Steinmetz, _Ethnol. Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, i. 291 _sqq._; _Idem_, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 49 (Banaka and Bapuku); Nicole, _ibid._ p. 132 (Diakité-Sarrakolese); Lang, _ibid._ p. 257 (Washambala).] According to Yakut beliefs, a person who is murdered becomes a _yor_, that is, his ghost never comes to rest.[34] The Cheremises imagine that the spirits of persons who have died a violent death cause illness, especially fever and ague.[35] The Saoras of India seem to have most fear of the spirits of those who have died violent deaths.[36] The Burmese believe that persons who meet a violent death become "nats "and haunt the place where they were killed.[37] The Hudson Bay Eskimo regard the island of Akpatok as tabooed since the murder of part of the crew of a wrecked vessel, who camped on that island; "not a soul visits that locality lest the ghosts of the victims should appear and supplicate relief from the natives, who have not the proper offerings to make to appease them."[38] The Omahas believe that the spirits of those who have been killed reappear after death, their errand being "to solicit vengeance on the perpetrators of the deed."[39] According to Genesis, the voice of {482} blood shed cried for vengeance until the murderer was punished.[40] A similar notion prevailed among the Bedouins, hence they thought they might escape the taking of revenge by covering up the blood with earth.[41] One of the most popular ghost stories in folk-tales is that which treats of the ghost of a murdered person flitting about the haunts of the living with no gratification but to terrify them.[42] According to Rohde, this belief was in full force at Athens in the fifth and fourth centuries before Christ.[43] Aeschylus attributes an Erinys to the heinous crime of a man's neglecting his duty as avenger of blood[44]--in other words, the soul of the slain turned its anger against the neglectful relative. Traces of the same belief still survive in various parts of Europe.[45] In Wärend, in Sweden, the people maintain that the unsatisfied ghost of a murdered man visits his relatives at night, and disturbs their rest; and it was an ancient custom among them that, if the murderer was not known, the nearest relation of the dead, before the knell began, went forward to the corpse and asked the dead himself to avenge his murder.[46] [Footnote 34: Sumner, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 101.] [Footnote 35: Abercromby, _Pre- and Proto-historic Finns_, i. 168 _sq._] [Footnote 36: Fawcett, in _Jour. Anthrop. Soc. Bombay_, i. 59.] [Footnote 37: Schway Yoe, _The Burman_, i. 286.] [Footnote 38: Turner, 'Ethnology of the Ungava District,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xi. 186.] [Footnote 39: James, _Expedition from Pittsburgh to the Rocky Mountains_, i. 267.] [Footnote 40: _Genesis_, iv. 10.] [Footnote 41: Jacob, _Leben der vorislâmischen Beduinen_, p. 146. _Cf._ Schwally, _Leben nach dem Tode_, p. 52 _sq._] [Footnote 42: See Dyer, _The Ghost World_, p. 65 _sqq._; Andree, _Ethnographische Parallelen_, p. 80 _sqq._] [Footnote 43: Rohde, _Psyche_, p. 240. _Cf._ _Idem_, 'Paralipomena,' in _Rheinisches Museum für Philologie_, 1895, p. 19 _sq._; Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 125 _sqq._] [Footnote 44: Aeschylus, _Choephori_, 283 _sqq._ _Cf._ _ibid._ 400 _sqq._; Plato, _Leges_, ix. 866.] [Footnote 45: Dyer, _op. cit._ p. 68 _sqq._ Thorpe, _Northern Mythology_, ii. 19 _sq._] [Footnote 46: Hyltén-Cavallius, _Wärend och Wirdarne_, ii. 274; i. 473.] From one point of view, blood-revenge is thus a form of human sacrifice. Sometimes it even formally bears a strong resemblance to certain other human sacrifices which are offered to the dead. Among some Queensland tribes, when the assassin has been caught red-handed, the slayer and slain are buried together in the same grave;[47] and among the ancient Teutons the avenger by preference slew the culprit at the feet of the murdered man, or at his tomb.[48] Blood-revenge also resembles other kinds of human sacrifice so far that it serves as a safeguard for the sacrificer--in this case the avenger, who would otherwise expose himself to the persecutions of the revengeful spirit of the dead. [Footnote 47: Roth, _Ethnological Studies among the North-West-Central Queensland Aborigines_, p. 165.] [Footnote 48: Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, pp. 170, 692.] But the practice of blood-revenge is not exclusively {483} based on a desire to avenge the injury done to a fellow-creature and to gratify the angry passion of his soul. The act which caused his death is at the same time an injury inflicted upon the survivors. Hence, in many cases, a murder committed within the family or kin is left unavenged.[49] Among the Iroquois, says Loskiel, any one who has murdered his own relative escapes without much difficulty, since the family, who alone have a right to take revenge, do not choose to weaken their influence by depriving themselves of another member besides the one whom they have already lost.[50] Again, when the murderer belongs to an extraneous family, the injury inflicted on the relatives of the murdered man suggests not only revenge, but reparation. [Footnote 49: Steinmetz, _Ethnologische Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, ii. 159 _sqq._ Mauss, 'La religion et les origines du droit pénal,' in _Revue de l'histoire des religions_, xxxv. 44. Kovalewsky, 'Les origines du devoir,' in _Revue internationale de Sociologie_, ii. 86. _Cf._ Seebohm, _Tribal Custom in Anglo-Saxon Law_, pp. 30, 42 (Welsh); Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 420; _Idem_, _Marriage and Kinship in early Arabia_, p. 25. Among the Jbâla of Northern Morocco blood-revenge is taken for the killing of a cousin, but not for the killing of a brother.] [Footnote 50: Loskiel, _History of the Mission of the United Brethren among the Indians in North America_, i. 16.] The taking of life for life may itself, in a way, serve as compensation. It seems that, in some cases, the blood of the slain homicide is supposed to restore, as it were, to the family of his victim the loss of life which he has caused them.[51] Such an idea probably underlies a custom which Burckhardt heard existed among the Hallenga, who draw their origin from Abyssinia. When the slayer has been seized by the relatives of the deceased, a family feast is proclaimed, at which the murderer is brought into their midst. While his throat is then slowly cut with a razor, the blood is caught in a bowl and handed round amongst the guests, "every one of whom is bound to drink of it at the moment the victim breathes his last."[52] Among various Arabic-speaking tribes in Morocco I have met with a practice which also, possibly, involves a vague idea of restoration. On the perpetration of his deed the avenger {484} licks off the blood from the blade of the dagger with which he killed his victim; and in one instance related to me, he bit off a piece of flesh from the dead body and sucked its blood.[53] Mr. Trumbull even goes so far as to believe that, among the Hebrews, the primal idea of the _goel_'s mission was not to wreak vengeance, but "to restore life for life, or to secure the adjusted equivalent of a lost life."[54] But it is difficult to suppose that the exacting of blood-revenge ever could have been looked upon as an equivalent in the full sense of the term. If the loss of life is to be compensated some other practice must take its place. [Footnote 51: _Cf._ Trumbull, _Blood Covenant_, p. 126 _sqq._] [Footnote 52: Burckhardt, _Travels in Nubia_, p. 356.] [Footnote 53: _Cf._ Goldziher, in Robertson Smith, _Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia_, p. 296 n. 1.] [Footnote 54: Trumbull, _Blood Covenant_, pp. 260, 263.] Sometimes the manslayer, instead of being killed, is adopted as a member of the family of his victim.[55] Among the Kabyles of Algeria, for instance, a person who has killed another unintentionally, goes to the parents of the dead and says to them: "If you want to kill me, kill me, here is my winding-sheet. If not, pardon me, and I shall henceforth be one of your children." And from this day the manslayer is considered to belong to the _kharouba_, or _gens_, of the deceased.[56] Among the Jbâla of Northern Morocco, again, a homicide sometimes induces the avenger to abstain from his persecutions by giving him his sister or daughter in marriage; and a similar custom has been noticed among the Beni Amer[57] and Bogos.[58] In other cases slaves are given to the relatives of the slain in order to atone for the guilt;[59] but most commonly the compensation consists of cattle, money, or other property. [Footnote 55: See Steinmetz, _Studien_, i. 410 _sqq._, 439 _sqq._; Kovalewsky, in _Revue Internationale de Sociologie_, ii. 87 _sq._] [Footnote 56: Hanoteau and Letourneux, _La Kabylie_, iii. 68 _sq._] [Footnote 57: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 322.] [Footnote 58: _Idem_, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 83. _Cf._ Kohler, _Nachwort zu Shakespeare vor dem Forum der Jurisprudenz_, p. 15 _sq._] [Footnote 59: Squier, 'Archæology and Ethnology of Nicaragua,' in _Trans. American Ethn. Soc._ iii. pt. i. 129. _Idem_, _Nicaragua_, ii. 345 (ancient Nicaraguans). Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 171 (Eastern Central Africans).] By giving presents to the relatives of his victim, the offender not only repairs the loss which he has inflicted {485} upon them, but also appeases their wounded feelings.[60] The pleasure of gain tends to suppress their passion, and the loss and humiliation which the adversary suffers by the gift exercise a healing influence on their resentment.[61] Sometimes the present is chiefly intended to serve as an apology. Among the Iroquois, according to Mr. Morgan, the white wampum which the murderer sent to the family of his victim and which, if accepted, for ever wiped out the memory of his deed, "was not in the nature of a compensation for the life of the deceased, but of a regretful confession of the crime, with a petition for forgiveness."[62] Compensation, moreover, has the advantage of saving the injured party the dangers involved in a blood-feud, the uncertainty of the issue, and the serious consequences which may result from the accomplished act of revenge. Whilst the carrying out of the principle of "life for life" often leads to protracted hostilities between the parties, compensation has a tendency to bring about a durable peace. For this reason it is to the interest of society at large to encourage the latter practice; and this encouragement naturally adds to its attractions. [Footnote 60: Rée, _Entstehung des Gewissens_, p. 57 _sqq._ Steinmetz, _Studien_, i. 472 _sq._] [Footnote 61: _Cf._ Miklosich, _loc. cit._ p. 148; Kohl, _op. cit._ i. 426, 436 (Montenegrines and Albanians).] [Footnote 62: Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, pp. 331, 333. _Cf._ Turner, _Samoa_, p. 326 (people of Aneiteum).] But in spite of its merits, the practice of composition has, in comparison with blood-revenge, various disadvantages. It is not equally calculated to satisfy a revengeful mind. It has to contend with the conservatism of ancient custom. It may be taken as a token of cowardice or weakness, whereas the blood-feud gives to its perpetrator an opportunity to display his courage and skill. It may be considered offensive to the dead kinsman. Finally, if it is to flourish, it presupposes a certain amount of wealth.[63] {486} The importance of these difficulties depends on the circumstances in each special case. Vindictiveness, conservatism, the desire for fighting, and the estimation in which courage and martial ability are held, are naturally subject to variations, and so are people's wealth and their willingness to compensate. The ideas held concerning the spirits of the departed are likewise variable. The readiness with which blood-money was accepted among the Greeks of the Homeric age has been explained by their belief in the disembodied soul's dreamlike existence in Hades, without strong passions and without the power to molest the living; whilst the later custom of demanding life for life has been interpreted as the result of a change of ideas which attributed much greater activity to the dead.[64] In other cases the deceased is supposed to be appeased by a mere ceremony, or by a vicarious sacrifice. The Ossetes believe that he often appears in a dream to some of his descendants, "tantôt pour exiger de lui la vengeance, tantôt pour lui permettre, au contraire, de la remplacer par un simple office des morts . . . . Revêtu d'habits de deuil, les cheveux épars, l'assassin Ossète vient sur la tombe de celui qu'il a tué, pour accomplir une cérémonie dont le but avéré est de se consacrer lui-même à sa victime. Cette cérémonie est connue sous le nom de _kifaeldicïn_: le meurtrier se livre spontanément au défunt, qui, en la personne de son descendant, lui pardonne son offense."[65] In Eastern Central Africa, says Mr. Macdonald, "if one man slay another, the friends of the deceased are justified in killing the murderer on the spot. But if they catch him alive they put him in a slave-stick, till compensation be made by a heavy fine of from four to twenty slaves. When the fine is paid the life of the murderer is not demanded, but several of the slaves obtained in compensation are killed, to accompany the deceased."[66] In other instances the dead is perhaps supposed to be appeased by the mere compensation {487} paid to his descendants, or his feelings are simply disregarded when they collide with the interests of the living.[67] Generally speaking, the question whether compensation is to be accepted or not, must be settled by a balancing of advantages and drawbacks. [Footnote 63: For the influence of wealth on the practice of composition, see Steinmetz, _Studien_, i. 427 _sqq._, and Lippert, _Kulturgeschichte der Menschheit_, ii. 591. Occasionally, however, composition occurs even among such a poor people as the Yahgans of Tierra del Fuego. "Sometimes," says Mr. Bridges (in _A Voice for South America_, xiii. 207), "the murderer is suffered to live, but he is much beaten and hurt, and has to make many presents to the relatives of the dead."] [Footnote 64: Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 125 _sqq._ Rohde, _Psyche_, pp. 8 _sqq._, 238.] [Footnote 65: Kovalewsky, _Coutume contemporaine et loi ancienne_, p. 238.] [Footnote 66: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 170 _sq._] [Footnote 67: _Cf._ Steinmetz, _Studien_, i. 452.] We may expect, then, to find the customs regarding blood-revenge and compensation to vary exceedingly among different peoples. Among many the rule of revenge is strictly followed, and compensation never, or rarely, accepted, at least for intentional homicide. This group includes not only tribes who are in a state of savagery, but peoples like the Beni Amer,[68] Marea,[69] Kabyles of Jurjura,[70] and Jbâla of Morocco. Burckhardt says of the Bedouins:--"The stronger and the more independent a tribe is, the more remote from cultivated provinces, and the wealthier its individuals, the less frequently are the rights of the _Thar_ commuted into a fine. Great sheiks, all over the Desert, regard it as a shameful transaction to compromise in any degree for the blood of their relations."[71] Among the mountains of Daghestan[72] and in parts of Albania[73] it is likewise considered disgraceful to accept compensation for the murder of a relative. [Footnote 68: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 321 _sq._] [Footnote 69: _Ibid._ p. 242.] [Footnote 70: Hanoteau and Letourneux, _op. cit._ iii. 61 _sq._] [Footnote 71: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 178, _Cf._ Burton, _Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah_, ii. 103.] [Footnote 72: Kovalesky, in _Revue internationale de Sociologie_, ii. 87.] [Footnote 73: Hahn, _op. cit._ i. 178.] In some instances the acceptance of compensation does not necessarily mean that the family of the slain altogether renounce their right of revenge. Among the Ahts, "though it is usual to accept large presents as expiation for murder, yet, practically, this expiation is not complete, and blood alone effectually atones for blood. An accepted present never quite cancels the obligation to punish in the breast of the offended person or tribe."[74] Among the Somals, "after the equivalent is paid, the {488} murderer or one of his clan, contrary to the spirit of El Islam, is generally killed by the kindred or tribe of the slain."[75] Among the Berbers (Shlu[h.]) of the province of Sûs, in Southern Morocco, a person who commits homicide immediately flees to another tribe, and places himself under its protection. His relatives then pay _ddit_, or blood-money, to the family of the victim, but this only prevents the offended party from taking revenge on any of them, and does not entitle the murderer to return; if he appears outside the tribe to whom he has fled for refuge, he is at any time liable to be killed. Among the Ossetes, again, it was formerly "a prevalent custom for a murderer to pay a fixed price for a certain time to the family of the murdered man, say for a year, during which time the blood-revenge remained dormant."[76] [Footnote 74: Sproat, _Scenes and Studies of Savage Life_, p. 153.] [Footnote 75: Burton, _First Footsteps in East Africa_, p. 87 n. [dagger]. _Cf._ Paulitschke, _Ethnographie Nordost-Afrikas_, p. 263.] [Footnote 76: von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 405.] In many instances, on the other hand, custom allows the acceptance of compensation as a perfectly justifiable alternative for blood-revenge, or even regards it as the proper method of settling the case. Among the Indians of Western Washington and North-Western Oregon the principle of life for life, though fully recognised, is sometimes abrogated in favour of material damages.[77] Among the Thlinkets "the murder of a relative can be atoned for by a certain number of blankets."[78] Among the Californian Karok the murder of a man's nearest relative may be compounded for by the payment of money.[79] The Kutchin demand blood-money for a slain kinsman, but avenge his death should such be denied.[80] Among the Kandhs the custom of blood-revenge was modified by the principle of money compensation, the acceptance of such compensation being in no case considered disgraceful.[81] In the Malay Archipelago, whilst the more ferocious tribes {489} insist, in many situations, upon a literal compliance with the law of retaliation, other tribes constantly accept a pecuniary compensation.[82] Among the majority of the Bedawee tribes of Egypt compensation is generally taken in commutation for vengeance;[83] and the same is the case among the Aenezes, though it would reflect shame on the friends of the slain person if they were to make the first overture.[84] Among the Wadshagga, again, the acceptance of blood-money is obligatory.[85] The Vendîdâd forbids the followers of Zoroastrianism to refuse the compensation offered for a deed of bloodshed.[86] Among the Irish the public opinion of the village held that the quarrels between its members should be compromised in a certain manner. However, if the guilty party did not pay the amount awarded, the community did not compel him to do so, and the injured party was then at liberty to avenge his own wrongs by reprisals or levying of private war.[87] Among the Teutons the kindred of the slain might, in early times, choose between taking revenge or accepting compensation, just as they liked; but later on they were expected by public opinion, and finally required by public authority, not to pursue the feud if the proper composition was forthcoming, except in a few extreme cases.[88] [Footnote 77: Gibbs, 'Tribes of Western Washington and Northwestern Oregon,' in _Contributions to North American Ethnology_, i. 189.] [Footnote 78: Petroff, _loc. cit._ p. 165.] [Footnote 79: Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 21.] [Footnote 80: Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, i. 386.] [Footnote 81: Hunter, _Annals of Rural Bengal_, ii. 76. Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 82.] [Footnote 82: Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, iii. 111.] [Footnote 83: Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 120.] [Footnote 84: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 87.] [Footnote 85: Merker, quoted by Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xv. 56.] [Footnote 86: Geiger, _op. cit._ ii. 34.] [Footnote 87: _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, iii. p. lxxx.] [Footnote 88: Keyser, _op. cit._ ii. pt. ii. 95. Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ i. 46 _sq._ _Gotlands-Lagen_, 13.] Thus the exaction of life for life, from being a duty incumbent on the family of the dead, becomes a mere right of which they may or may not avail themselves, as they please, and is at last publicly disapproved of or actually prohibited. Among the circumstances by which this process has been brought about there is still one which calls for special attention, namely, the pressure of some intervening authority, the elders of the tribe,[89] or {490} the chief, inducing the avenger to lay down his weapon and to accept money for blood. I do not say that the practice of compensation has originated in such an intervention; we meet it among peoples who know nothing of courts, judges, or regular arbitrators.[90] But when we hear of chiefs making efforts to check the blood-feud by persuading the injured party to accept remuneration in money or property, it is impossible to doubt that some connection exists between the system of compensation and the judicial power of the chief. Among the Indians of Brazil, when blood is shed, either designedly or accidentally, by one of the same tribe, the chief not seldom insists upon the acceptance of compensation by the family of the deceased.[91] Of the people of Nias, amongst whom the offender may suffer death at the hands of the avenger, we read that even grave cases, when brought before the chief, are often punished by fines only.[92] Among the Dooraunees, in Western Afghanistan, "if the offended party complains to the Sirdar, or if _he_ hears of a murder committed, he first endeavours to bring about a compromise, by offering the Khoon Behau, or of price of blood."[93] The Teutonic nations, as Kemble observes, in the course of time made the State the arbitrator between the parties "by establishing a tariff at which injuries should be rated, and committing to the State the duty of compelling the injured person to receive, and the wrong-doer to pay, the settled amount. It thus engaged to act as a mediator between the conflicting interests, with a view to the maintenance of the general peace."[94] [Footnote 89: _Cf._ Vámbéry, _Das Türkenvolk_, p. 305 _sq._ (Kirghiz); Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 500 (Barea and Kunáma).] [Footnote 90: _E.g._, the Fuegians (Bridges, in _South American Missionary Magazine_, xiii. 152. _Idem_, in _A Voice for South America_, xiii. 207).] [Footnote 91: von Martius, _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 130. _Idem_, in _Jour. Roy. Geographical Soc._ ii. 199.] [Footnote 92: Modigliani, _Viaggio a Nías_, p. 496.] [Footnote 93: Elphinstone, _Kingdom of Caubul_, ii. 105 _sq._] [Footnote 94: Kemble, _Saxons in England_, i. 270.] We have previously discussed the important measure of substituting punishment for revenge by transferring the judicial and executive power of the avenger to a special authority within the body politic, commissioned with {491} the administration of justice. The system of compensation was only one or the methods adopted by such an authority for the settling of disputes; and, on the whole, it was a sign of weakness. Speaking of the Rejangs of Sumatra, Marsden observes that the practice of expiating murder by the payment of a certain sum of money "had doubtless its source in the imbecility of government, which being unable to enforce the law of retaliation, the most obvious rule of punishment, had recourse to a milder scheme of retribution, as being preferable to absolute indemnity."[95] When the central power of jurisdiction is firmly established, the rule of life for life regains its sway.[96] Thus, in the mature legislation of semi-civilised and civilised peoples, up to quite recent times, murder has almost invariably been treated as a capital offence--unless, indeed, committed by some person belonging to a specially privileged class, such as the Peruvian Incas,[97] the Brâhmanas of India,[98] or, in England, all who had the benefit of Clergy, that is, every man who knew how to read, with the exception of those who were married to widows.[99] But among many of the lower races, also, manslayers are subject to capital punishment, in the proper sense of the term--to death inflicted, not by an individual avenger, but by the community at large or by some special authority.[100] [Footnote 95: Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 246.] [Footnote 96: _Cf._ Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 599 _sq._ (Teutonic peoples).] [Footnote 97: Réville, _Hibbert Lectures on the Native Religions of Mexico and Peru_, p. 151.] [Footnote 98: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 380 _sq._] [Footnote 99: Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, i. 458 _sqq._ According to the Cornelian law, a free Roman citizen could not be punished capitally for the commission of murder, but was simply exiled from Italy, whereas a slave was executed for a similar crime (Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 631 _sq._).] [Footnote 100: _Supra_, pp. 171, 172, 189. Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _loc. cit._ p. 152 (Aleuts). Adair, _History of the American Indians_, p. 150. Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 331. Harmon, _Journals of Voyages and Travels_, p. 348 (Indians on the east side of the Rocky Mountains). Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 178, 295, 334 (Samoans, natives of Arorae, Efatese). Thomson, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 143 (Savage Islanders). Hickson, _A Naturalist in North Celebes_, p. 198 (Sangirese, in former days). Abreu de Galindo, _History of the Discovery and Conquest of the Canary Islands_, p. 27 (aborigines of Ferro). Johnston, _Uganda Protectorate_, ii. 882 (Mutei). Beltrame, _Il Fiume Bianco e i Dénka_, p. 77. In all these cases homicide or murder is said to be punished with death; but it may be that, in some of them, our authorities have not sufficiently distinguished between punishment and blood-revenge.] It is not only by the slaying of a fellow-creature that a person may forfeit his right to live. Among various peoples custom allows, or sometimes even compels, the offended party to kill the offender in cases which involve {492} no blood-guiltiness, especially adultery;[101] and we hear of capital punishment being inflicted not only for homicide, but for treason,[102] incest,[103] adultery,[104] witchcraft,[105] sacrilege,[106] theft,[107] and other offences.[108] We have seen that among semi-civilised and civilised nations, particularly, the punishment of death has been applied to a great variety of offences, many of which appear to us almost venial.[109] And we have discussed both the origin of the idea that justice requires life for life, and the circumstances that have led to the infliction of punishments the severity of which, apparently at least, bears no proportion to the magnitude of the crime.[110] [Footnote 101: _Supra_, p. 290 _sqq._ _Infra_, on Sexual Morality. Post, _Studien zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 134 _sq._] [Footnote 102: _Supra_, p. 189.] [Footnote 103: _Infra_, on Sexual Morality.] [Footnote 104: _Supra_, p. 189. _Infra_, on Sexual Morality.] [Footnote 105: _Supra_, p. 189 _sq._] [Footnote 106: _Supra_, p. 197.] [Footnote 107: _Infra_, on the Right of Property.] [Footnote 108: _Supra_, p. 195.] [Footnote 109: _Supra_, p. 186 _sqq._] [Footnote 110: _Supra_, ch. vii.] But whilst, among peoples of culture, capital punishment has been inflicted far beyond the limits of the _lex talionis_, we meet, on the other hand, among such peoples with opinions to the effect that it should not be applied even in the most atrocious cases. The old philosopher Lao-tsze, the founder of Taouism, condemned it both as useless and as irreverent. The people, he argued, do not fear death; to what purpose, then, is it to try to frighten them with death? There is only one who presides over the infliction of it. "He who would inflict death in the room of him who presides over it may be described as hewing wood instead of a great carpenter. Seldom is it that he who undertakes the hewing, instead of the great carpenter, does not cut his own hands."[111] Nor does Confucius seem to have been in favour of capital punishment. When Chî {493} K'ang asked his opinion as to the killing of "the unprincipled for the good of the principled," Confucius replied:--"Sir, in carrying on your government, why should you use killing at all? Let your evinced desires be for what is good, and the people will be good."[112] The early Christians generally condemned the punishment of death, as well as all other forms of shedding human blood;[113] but when the Church obtained an ascendency, the condemnation of it was modified into the doctrine that no priest or bishop must take any part in a capital charge.[114] Later on, from the twelfth century at least, the priest might assist at judicial proceedings resulting in a sentence of death, if only he withdrew for the moment, when the sentence was passed.[115] And whilst ostentatiously sticking to the principle, "Ecclesia non sitit sanguinem,"[116] the Church had frequent recourse to the convenient method of punishing heretics by relegating the execution of the sentence to the civil power, with a prayer that the culprit should be punished "as mildly as possible and without the effusion of blood," that is, by the death of fire.[117] In modern times the views of the early Christians regarding capital punishment have been revived by the Quakers;[118] but the powerful movement in favour of its abolition chiefly derives its origin from the writings of Beccaria and the French Encyclopedists. [Footnote 111: _Tâo Teh King_, 74.] [Footnote 112: _Lun Yü_, xii. 19.] [Footnote 113: Hetzel, _Die Todesstrafe_, p. 71 _sqq._ Günther, _Die Idee der Wiedervergeltung_, i. 271. Lactantius, _Divinæ Institutiones_, vi. ('De vero cultu') 20 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, vi. 708): ". . . occidere hominem sit semper nefas, quem Deus sanctum animal esse voluit."] [Footnote 114: _Supra_, p. 381 _sq._ Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 39. Laurent, _Études sur l'histoire de l'Humanité_, iv. 223; vii. 233.] [Footnote 115: Gerhohus, _De ædificio Dei_, 35 (Migne, _op. cit._ cxciv. 1282).] [Footnote 116: Katz, _Grundriss des kanonischen Strafrechts_, p. 54.] [Footnote 117: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 41.] [Footnote 118: Gurney, _Views & Practices of the Society of Friends_, pp. 377 n. 1, 389.] The great motive force of this movement has been sympathy with human suffering and horror of the destruction of human life--feelings which have been able to operate the more freely, the less they have been checked either by the belief in the social expediency of {494} capital punishment, or by the notion of a vindictive god who can be conciliated only by the death of the offender. It has been argued that the punishment of death is no more effective as a deterrent from crime than are certain other punishments. According to Beccaria, it is not the intensity of a pain which produces the greatest effect on the mind of man, but its continuance; hence the execution of a culprit, occupying a short time only, must be a less deterring example than perpetual slavery, which ought to be the penalty for the greatest crimes.[119] Moreover, the circumstances which unavoidably attend the practical application of the punishment of death are such as excite the sympathy of the public in favour of the perpetrator of the crime and thereby seriously impair the efficacy of the punishment as an example.[120] An execution is regarded as less degrading than many other forms of punishment; when a man dies on the scaffold there is a counterpoise to the disgrace in the admiration excited by his firmness, whereas there is no such counterpoise when a man goes off in the prison van to be immured in a cell.[121] Statistical data prove, it is said, that, where capital punishment has been abolished either for certain crimes or generally, crime has not become more frequent after the abolition, whilst the re-enactment of capital punishment, or greater strictness in its execution, has nowhere diminished the number of offences punishable with death.[122] And the punishment of death is no more required by the dictates of abstract justice than it is requisite for the safety of the community. It is quite an arbitrary assumption, based on the rude theory of talion, that death must be inflicted on him who has caused death; such an assumption can be refuted simply by showing that there are many degrees of homicide.[123] Nay, far from being postulates of the highest justice, laws which {495} prescribe capital punishment may lead to the highest injustice. As Bentham observes, "the punishment of death is not remissible"; error is possible in all judgments, but whilst in every other case of judicial error compensation can be made, death alone admits of no compensation.[124] And not only may the innocent have to suffer an irreparable punishment, but the criminal easily escapes his punishment altogether. Experience shows that the punishment of death has the disadvantage of diminishing the repressive power of the legal menace, because witnesses, judges, and jurymen exert themselves to the utmost in order to avoid arriving at a verdict of guilty in many cases where an execution would be the consequence of such a verdict.[125] Finally, the punishment of death almost entirely misses one of the most essential aims of every legitimate punishment, the reformation of the criminal. Nay, by putting him to a speedy death we actually prevent him from morally reforming himself, and from manifesting the fruits of sincere repentance; and we perhaps deprive him of the opportunity of making good his claim to mercy at the hands of another and a higher Tribunal, on which we are arrogantly encroaching in a matter of which we are wholly unfit to judge.[126] [Footnote 119: Beccaria, _Dei delitti e delle pene_, § 16.] [Footnote 120: Romilly, _Punishment of Death_, p. 56 _sqq._] [Footnote 121: _Ibid._ p. 47 _sq._ Hetzel, _op. cit._ p. 454 _sqq._] [Footnote 122: Mittermaier, _Die Todesstrafe_, p. 150 _sqq._ Olivecrona, _Om dödsstraffet_, p. 130 _sqq._] [Footnote 123: Mittermaier, _op. cit._ pp. 62, 133. von Mehring, _Frage von der Todesstrafe_, p. 19 _sqq._] [Footnote 124: Bentham, _Rationale of Punishment_, p. 186 _sqq._ _Cf._ Hetzel, _op. cit._ p. 442 _sqq._] [Footnote 125: Bentham, _op. cit._ p. 191 _sq._ Mittermaier, _op. cit._ pp. 98 _sqq._, 148.] [Footnote 126: Romilly, _op. cit._ p. 3 _sqq._] Under the influence of these and similar arguments, but chiefly owing to an increasing reluctance to take human life, the legislation of Europe has, from the end of the eighteenth century, undergone a radical change with reference to the punishment of death. In several European and American States it has been formally abolished, or is nowadays never inflicted,[127] whilst in the rest it is practically restricted to cases of wilful murder. But it still has as strenuous advocates as ever, and receives much support from popular feelings. It is said that the abolition of capital punishment would remove one of the {496} best safeguards of society; that it definitely prevents the criminal from doing further mischief; that it is a much more effective means of deterring from crime than any other penalty; that its abolition would have the disadvantage of crimes widely differing in their nature being placed on the same footing; that a person criminally disposed, if he knew that he would only be punished with imprisonment for life, would, instead of merely perpetrating robbery, commit murder at the same time, being aware that no higher penalty on that account would be inflicted; and so forth. As usually, religion also is called in to give strength to the argument. Several writers maintain that the statements in the Bible which command capital punishment have an obligatory power on all Christian legislators;[128] we even meet with the assertion that the object of this punishment is not the protection of civil society, but to carry out the justice of God, in whose name "the judge should sentence and the executioner strike."[129] But I venture to believe that the chief motive for retaining the punishment of death in modern legislation is the strong hold which the principle of talion has on the minds of legislators, as well as on the mind of the public. This supposition derives much support from the fact that capital punishment is popular only in the case of murder. "Blood, it is said, will have blood, and the imagination is flattered with the notion of the similarity of the suffering, produced by the punishment, with that inflicted by the criminal."[130] [Footnote 127: Günther, _op. cit._ iii. 347 _sqq._ von Liszt, _Lehrbuch des Deutschen Strafrechts_, p. 261.] [Footnote 128: Mittermaier, _op. cit._ p. 128 _sqq._] [Footnote 129: Clay, _The Prison Chaplain_, p. 357.] [Footnote 130: Bentham, _Rationale of Punishment_, p. 191.] CHAPTER XXI THE DUEL WHEN the system of revenge was replaced by the system of punishment, the offended party generally lost the right of killing the offender. But there are noteworthy exceptions to this rule. In a previous chapter we have seen that, among various peoples, in cases involving unusually great provocation, an avenger who slays his adversary is either entirely excused by custom or law, or becomes subject to a comparatively lenient punishment.[1] A few words still remain to be said about the most persistent survival of the custom of exacting vengeance with eventual destruction of life, the modern duel. But in connection with this survival it seems appropriate to discuss the practice of duelling in general, in its capacity of a recognised social institution. [Footnote 1: _Supra_, p. 290 _sqq._] Duelling, or the fighting in single combat on previous challenge, is sometimes resorted to as a means of bringing to an end hostilities between different groups of people. Among the aborigines of New South Wales "the war often ends in a single combat between chosen champions."[2] In Western Victoria quarrels between tribes are sometimes settled by duels between the chiefs, and the result is accepted as final. "At other times disputes are decided by combat between equal numbers of warriors, painted {498} with red clay and dressed in war costume; but real fighting seldom takes place, unless the women rouse the anger of the men and urge them to come to blows. Even then it rarely results in a general fight, but comes to single combats between warriors of each side; who step into the arena, taunt one another, exchange blows with the liangle, and wrestle together. The first wound ends the combat."[3] Among the Thlinkets feuds between clans or families were commonly settled by duels between chosen champions, one from each side.[4] Ancient writers tell us that among the Greeks, Romans, and Teutons, combats were likewise agreed upon to take place between a definite number of warriors, for the sake of ending a war.[5] According to Tacitus, the Germans had the custom of deciding the event of battle by a duel fought between some captive of the enemy and a representative of the home army.[6] In all these cases, as it seems, the duel originates in a desire for a speedy peace. [Footnote 2: Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 40.] [Footnote 3: Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 77.] [Footnote 4: Holmberg, 'Ethnographische Skizzen über die Völker des russischen Amerika,' in _Acta Societatis Scientiarum Fennicæ_, iv. 322 _sq._] [Footnote 5: See Grotius, _De jure belli et pacis_, ii. 20. 43. 1; Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 928.] [Footnote 6: Tacitus, _Germania_, 10.] In other instances duels are fought for the purpose of settling disputes between individuals, either by conferring on the victor the right of possessing the object of the strife, or by gratifying a craving for revenge and wiping off the affront. Thus, among the pagan Norsemen, any person who confided in his strength and dexterity with his weapons could acquire property by simply challenging its owner to surrender his land or fight for it. The combat was strictly regulated; the person challenged was allowed to strike first, he who retired or who lost his weapon was regarded as vanquished, and he who received the first wound, or who was most seriously wounded, had to pay a fixed sum of money in order to save his life.[7] In the {499} islands outside Kamchatka, if a husband found that a rival had been with his wife, he would admit that the rival had at least an equal claim to her. "Let us try, then," he would say, "which of us has the greater right, and shall have her." After that they would take off their clothes and begin to beat each other's backs with sticks, and he who first fell to the ground unable to bear any more blows, lost his right to the woman.[8] Among the Eskimo about Behring Strait Mr. Nelson was told by an old man that in ancient times, when a husband and a lover quarrelled about a woman, they were disarmed by the neighbours and then settled the trouble with their fists or by wrestling, the victor in the struggle taking the woman.[9] Among the Chippewyans Richardson saw more than once a stronger man assert his right to take the wife of a weaker countryman in consequence of a successful combat. "Any one," he says, "may challenge another to wrestle, and, if he overcomes, may carry off his wife as the prize. . . . The bereaved husband meets his loss with the resignation which custom prescribes in such a case, and seeks his revenge by taking the wife of another man weaker than himself."[10] In the tribes of Western Victoria, described by Mr. Dawson, a young chief who cannot get a wife, and falls in love with one belonging to a chief who has more than two, can, with her consent, challenge the husband to single combat, and, if the husband is defeated, the conqueror makes her his legal wife.[11] "In some points," says Mr. Riedel, "the aboriginal law of retaliation in Australia corresponds with the code of honour, so called, which certain classes in Europe have long maintained. When one blackfellow carries off the {500} wife of another, the injured husband and the betrayer meet in mortal combat; and the spear that spills the life blood repairs the wounded honour of the one, or justifies in the eyes of society the crime of the other."[12] Among the aborigines of Western Australia "duels are common between individuals who have private quarrels to settle, a certain number of spears being thrown until honour is satisfied."[13] Among the Dieyerie tribe, should anybody accuse another wrongfully, he is challenged to fight by the person he has accused, and this settles the matter.[14] Of the duels fought among the natives of North-West-Central Queensland Dr. Roth gives us an interesting account. Supposing an individual considers himself aggrieved, a duel often takes place at a distance from camp. There is no intention of killing. With two-handed swords, the combatants would only aim at striking each other on the head; with spears, they would only make for the fleshy parts of the thighs; with stone-knives, they would only cut into the shoulders, flanks, and buttocks, producing gashes an inch or more deep, and up to seven or even eight inches long. The lying upon the back on the ground--a posture in which no lawful incisions with a stone-knife can be made--is the sign of defeat, indicating that the combatant has had enough, and gives in. But the matter has not yet come to an end; the duels of these savages are not so defective in point of justice as the modern duels of Europe. "The fight between the two individuals being at length brought to a termination, steps are taken by the old men and elders to inquire into the rights or wrongs of the dispute. If the victor turns out to be the aggrieved party he has to show good cause, as for instance that the man whom he had just taken upon himself to punish had raped his gin, gave him the _munguni_ [or death-bone], or wrought him some similarly flagrant wrong: under such circumstances, no further action is taken by anyone. If, {501} on the other hand, the victor happens to be the aggrieved party only in his own opinion, and not in that of those to whom he is answerable, and who do not believe the grounds on which he commenced the fight to be sufficient, he has to undergo exactly the same mutilations subsequently at the hands of the vanquished as he himself had inflicted." And should one of the combatants be killed in the duel, which may sometimes happen, the survivor, unless he can show that he had sufficient provocation or cause, "will be put to death in similar manner, at the instance of the camp-council, and usually undergo the extra degradation of digging his own as well as his victim's grave."[15] Of the South American Charruas Azara writes:--"Ce sont les parties elles-mêmes qui arrangent leurs différends particuliers: si elles ne sont pas d'accord, elles se chargent à coups de poing, jusqu'à ce qu'une des deux tourne le dos et laisse l'autre, sans reparler de l'affaire. Dans ces duels, ils ne font jamais usage des armes; et je n'ai jamais ouï dire qu'il y ait eu quelqu'un de tué."[16] If an Apache kills another, "the next-of-kin to the defunct individual may kill the murderer--if he can. He has the right to challenge him to single combat, which takes place before all assembled in the camp, and both must abide the result of the conflict. There is no trial, no set council, no regular examination into the crime or its causes; but the ordeal of battle settles the whole matter."[17] Among the Central Eskimo, "strange as it may seem, a murderer will come to visit the relatives of his victim (though he knows that they are allowed to kill him in revenge) and will settle with them. He is kindly welcomed, and sometimes lives quietly for weeks and months. Then he is suddenly challenged to a wrestling match, and if defeated is killed, or if victorious he may kill one of the opposite party, or when hunting, he is {502} suddenly attacked by his companions and slain."[18] Richardson heard that some of the Eskimo "decided their quarrels by alternate blows of the fist, each in turn presenting his head to his opponent."[19] The Tunguses formerly had a duel with arrows called _koutschiguera_, which was fought "only in the presence of the elders, who marked out the spot, settled the distance of the combatants, and gave the signal for letting fly."[20] The Santals have a tradition that years long since there was a custom amongst them "of deciding their disputes, when the parties were males, by the ordeal of single combat. The bow and arrow or hanger served in lieu of pistol and sword for these rustic duels. Such affairs of honour were always fatal to one party, but of late times, as equitable remedies have been brought nearer to them, this remnant of a barbarous age has disappeared.**"[21] Mr. Man also heard that the Kols at one time preferred the duel to any other mode of seeking redress for a wrong.[22] The ancient Swedes were even compelled by law to fight duels to repair their wounded honour. The so-called 'Hedna-lag,' a fragment of an old pagan law, prescribes that, if any man says to another, "You are not a man's equal, you have not the heart of a man," and the other replies, "I am a man as good as you," they shall encounter in a place where three roads meet. If he who has suffered the insult does not appear, he shall be held to be what the other one called him, and he shall henceforth be allowed neither to swear nor to give evidence in any case. If, on the other hand, they meet in single combat, and the offended party kills the offender, he shall have to pay no compensation for it; but if the offender kills his opponent, he shall pay half his price.[23] [Footnote 7: Lea, _Superstition and Force_, p. 111 _sq._ Keyser, _Efterladte Skrifter_, ii. pt. i. 391. Weinhold, _Altnordisches Leben_, p. 297. von Amira, 'Recht,' in Paul's _Grundriss der germanischen Philologie_, iii. 217 _sq._ Arnesen, _Historisk Indledning til den gamle og nye Islandske Raettergang_, p. 158 _sq._ Rosenberg, _Traek af Livet paa Island i Fristats-Tiden_, p. 98 n.] [Footnote 8: Steller, _Beschreibung von dem Lande Kamtschatka_, p. 348.] [Footnote 9: Nelson, 'Eskimo about Behring Strait,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur, Ethn._ xviii. 292.] [Footnote 10: Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, ii. 24 _sq._] [Footnote 11: Dawson, _op. cit._ p. 36. For other instances of rights to women being acquired by duels, see Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 159 _sqq._; Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 23 _sq._ (people of Kordofan).] [Footnote 12: Riedel, _Aborigines of Australia_, p. 6.] [Footnote 13: Calvert, _Aborigines of Western Australia_, p. 22.] [Footnote 14: Gason, 'Manners and Customs of the Dieyerie Tribe,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 266.] [Footnote 15: Roth, _Ethnological Studies among the North-West-Central Queensland Aborigines_, p. 139 _sq._] [Footnote 16: Azara, _Voyages dans l'Amérique méridionale_, ii. 16.] [Footnote 17: Cremony, _Life among the Apaches_, p. 293.] [Footnote 18: Boas, 'Central Eskimo,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ vi. 582.] [Footnote 19: Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, i. 367 _sq._] [Footnote 20: Georgi, _Russia_, iii. 83.] [Footnote 21: Man, _Sonthalia and the Sonthals_, p. 90.] [Footnote 22: _Ibid._ p. 90.] [Footnote 23: Leffler, _Om den fornsvenska hednalagen_, p. 40 _sq._ (in _K. Vitterhets Historie och Antiqvitets Akademiens Månadsblad_, 1879, p. 139 _sq._). Professor Leffler is inclined to believe that this fragment once formed a part of the older Vestgötalag (_op. cit._ p. 35, in the _Månadsblad_, p. 134).] {503} These customs and rules are due to a variety of circumstances. To recognise the duel as a means of acquiring a right to land or women, is a concession to superior strength in a society where there is no government, or where the government is weak; whilst in the opportunity given to the challenged party to oppose the avenger on equal terms we may trace the interfering influence of public opinion. The duel is also in a higher degree than downright violence calculated to bring about a definite arrangement; and in some cases, as we have seen, it is a mere sham-fight, which may serve as a preventive against the infliction of more serious injuries, by showing which party is the weaker and, consequently, has to give in. In other cases, again, the challenge is a method of bringing forward an offender who otherwise might be out of reach, and of limiting the fight to the parties themselves, so as to prevent whole families from making war upon each other.[24] Moreover, a duel may be preferable to an ordinary act of revenge as a means of wiping off an affront and of satisfying the claims of honour; it displays more courage, it commands more respect. In several of the cases referred to it is obviously a mitigated form of revenge, a method of settling a point of honour in a comparatively harmless way, and as such it has certain advantages over the practice of compensation; it requires no wealth on the part of the offender, and allows of no doubt as to the courage of the sufferer.[25] The Queensland aborigines are said to be very proud of the wounds they receive in their single combats,[26] and the duelling Eskimo "consider it cowardly to evade a stroke."[27] The duel {504} may, finally, be regarded as the most equitable form of settling disputes in cases where both parties claim to be in the right. Sometimes it is even resorted to as a means of ascertaining the truth, as an ordeal or "judgment of God." [Footnote 24: _Cf._ Arnesen, _op. cit._ pp. 150, 166 _sq._] [Footnote 25: According to Dr. Steinmetz, the origin of the duel is "die Beschränkung des Rachekampfes. . . . Die treibende Kraft, welche zu dieser duellartigen Beschränkung führte, war die Exogamie, die verwandtschaftlichen Beziehungen zwischen Gruppen, der Friedensverlangen erzeugende, erweiterte Verkehr derselben. Negative Bedingungen waren: das Fehlen einer rechtsprechenden centralen Regierungsgewalt, und das nicht Erfülltsein der Entwicklungsbedingungen der Composition, namentlich der Mangel an ökonomischen Gütern, welche die materielle Entschädigung unmöglich machte" (Steinmetz, _Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, ii. 67, 87).] [Footnote 26: Roth, _op. cit._ p. 140.] [Footnote 27: Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, i. 368.] The wager of battle is well known to every student of mediæval law. Outside Europe we meet with a similar institution in the Malay Archipelago. In his 'History of the Indian Archipelago,' Mr. Crawfurd states:--"The trial by combat or duel, and the appeal to the judgment of God by various descriptions of ordeal, are not unknown. The Malay laws direct that the combat or ordeal shall be had recourse to in the absence of evidence, in the following words: 'If one accuse and another deny, and there be no witnesses on either side, the parties shall either fight or submit to the ordeal of melted tin or boiling oil.'"[28] The natives of the Barito River basin in Borneo have the following ordeal, called the _Hagalangang_:--"Both parties are placed in boxes at a distance of seven fathoms opposite one another, the boxes being made of nibong laths and so high as to reach a man's breast. Then both receive a sharpened bamboo of a lance's length to throw at each other at a given signal. The wounded person is supposed to be guilty."[29] Among the Teutons the judicial combat seems to have developed out of the ancient practice of settling disputes by private duelling. In a time when the community did its best to suppress acts of revenge, it was no doubt a wise measure to adopt the duel as a form of judicial procedure, investing it with the character of an ordeal.[30] It seems probable that the duel assumed this character already among the pagan Teutons.[31] Like other ordeals it was resorted to in cases where there was some doubt as to the guilt of the accused.[32] To {505} appeal to "the judgment of God" was an expedient substitute for human evidence in a society where nothing was more difficult than to procure reliable witnesses, and where superstition reigned supreme. Speaking of the Franks, M. Esmein observes:--"En dehors du flagrant délit ou de l'aveu de l'accusé, tout était incertitude. . . . Par solidarité forcée, jamais un homme ne témoignera contre un autre homme du même groupe; il ne témoignera pas non plus par crainte de la vengeance et des représailles contre un homme appartenant à un autre groupe."[33] I shall later on try to prove that the ordeal is not, as it is often supposed to be, primordially based on the belief in an all-knowing, all-powerful, and just god, who protects the innocent and punishes the guilty, but that it largely springs from the same notion as underlies the belief in the efficacy of an oath. The ordeal, then, intrinsically involves an imprecation with reference to the guilt or innocence of a suspected person, and its proper object is to give reality to this imprecation, for the purpose of establishing the validity or invalidity of the suspicion. This also holds good of the judicial combat. The issue of the fight decided the question of guilt because of the imprecation involved in the oath preceding the duel. Before the conflict commenced each party asserted his good cause in the most positive manner, confirmed his assertion by a solemn oath on the Gospels or on a relic of approved sanctity, and called upon God to grant victory to the right. Such an oath was an indispensable preliminary to every combat, and the defeat was thus not merely the loss of the suit, but also a conviction of perjury, to be punished as such.[34] That the real object of the judicial duel was to correct the abuses of compurgation by oath appears from various {506} facts. Gundebald, king of the Burgundians, says expressly, in the preamble to a law by which he authorises the wager of battle, that his reason for doing so is, that his subjects may no longer take oaths upon uncertain matters, or forswear themselves upon certain.[35] Charlemagne urged the use of the duel as greatly preferable to the shameless oaths which were taken with so much facility, and Otho II. ordered its employment in various forms of procedure for the same reason.[36] Witnesses might have to fight as well as principals. A Bavarian law even directed the claimant of an estate to combat not the defendant, but his witness;[37] and in the later Middle Ages, after enlightened legislators had been strenuously and not unsuccessfully endeavouring to limit the abuse of the judicial combat, the challenging of witnesses was still the favourite mode of escaping legal condemnation.[38] Some codes required the witnesses to come into court armed, and to have their weapons blessed on the altar before giving their testimony.[39] The practice of blessing the arms before the duel took place[40] was no doubt intended to enable them the better to carry out the imprecation by saturating them with sanctity, or by increasing their natural sanctity; weapons are commonly regarded with superstitious veneration, hence oaths taken upon them are held to be particularly binding.[41] But though the judicial duel fundamentally derived its efficacy as a means of ascertaining the truth from its connection with an oath, it has, owing to the tendency of magic to fuse into religion, readily come to be regarded as an appeal to the justice of God, just as curses are transformed into {507} prayers and perjury becomes an offence against the Deity. [Footnote 28: Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, iii. 92.] [Footnote 29: Schwaner, _Borneo_, i. 212.] [Footnote 30: Dahn observes (_Bausteine_, ii. 57) that "der Kampf ursprünglich gar kein Gottesurtheil, sondern lediglich eine Verweisung der Parteien auf Selbsthülfe . . . war." _Cf._ Patetta, _Le ordalie_, p. 178.] [Footnote 31: Patetta, _op. cit._ p. 179.] [Footnote 32: See Unger, 'Der gerechtliche Zweikampf bei den germanischen Völkern,' in _Göttinger Studien_, 1847, Zweite Abtheilung, p. 358 _sq._] [Footnote 33: Esmein, _Cours élémentaire du droit français_, p. 96 _sq._] [Footnote 34: _Lex Baiuwariorum_, ii. 1. Jourdan, Decrusy, and Isambert, _Recueil général des anciennes lois françaises_, ii. 840 _sqq._ Bracton, _De Legibus et Consuetudinibus Angliæ_, fol. 141 b _sq._, vol. ii. 438 _sqq._: "Sic me Deus adjuvet & haec sancta." Lea, _Superstition and Force_, p. 166 _sq._ Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 415. von Amira, 'Recht,' in Paul's _Grundriss der germanischen Philologie_, iii. 218. Unger, _loc. cit._ p. 386. Tuchmann, in _Mélusine_, iv. 130.] [Footnote 35: _Leges Burgundionum_, Leges Gundebati, 45.] [Footnote 36: Lea, _op. cit._ p. 118.] [Footnote 37: _Lex Baiuwariorum_, xvii. 2 (xvi. 2).] [Footnote 38: Beaumanoir, _Coutumes du Beauvoisis_, lxi. 58, vol. ii. 398. Lea, _op. cit._ p. 120 _sq._ Unger, _loc. cit._ p. 379 _sqq._] [Footnote 39: Lea, _op. cit._ p. 120.] [Footnote 40: Esmein, _op. cit._ p. 95.] [Footnote 41: For the worship of, and swearing by, weapons, see Du Cange, 'Juramentum super arma,' in _Glossarium ad scriptores mediæ et infimæ Latinitatis_, iii. 1616 _sq._; Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, pp. 165, 166, 896; Pollock, _Oxford Lectures_, p. 269 _sq._ n. 1; Joyce _Social History of Ancient Ireland_, i. 286 _sq._ In Morocco, also, an oath taken on a weapon is considered a particularly solemn form of swearing.] In most European countries the judicial duel survived the close of the Middle Ages, but disappeared shortly afterwards.[42] Various circumstances contributed to its decline and final disappearance. From an early period Councils and popes had declared against it,[43] but with little success; many ecclesiastics, indeed, not only connived at the practice, but authorised it, and questions concerning the property of churches and monasteries were decided by combat.[44] There were other more powerful causes at work--the growth of communes, devoted to the arts of peace, seeking their interest in the pursuits of industry and commerce, and enjoying the advantage of settled and permanent tribunals; the revival of Roman law, which began to undermine all the institutions of feudalism;[45] the ascendency of the royal power in its struggle against the nobles; the increase of enlightenment, the decrease of superstition. But though finally banished from the courts of justice, the duel did not die. In the sixteenth century, when the judicial combat faded away, the duel of honour began to flourish.[46] Buckle justly observes that, "as the trial by battle became disused, the people, clinging to their old customs, became more addicted to duelling";[47] hence the judicial duel may be regarded as the direct parent of the modern duel.[48] The Church and the State naturally tried to suppress this sanguinary survival of barbarism. The Council of Trent declared that "the detestable custom of duelling, introduced by the contrivance of the devil, that by the bloody death of the body {508} he may accomplish the ruin of the soul," was to be utterly exterminated from the Christian world, and that not only principals and seconds, but anyone who had given counsel in the case of a duel, or had in any other way persuaded a person thereunto, as also the spectators thereof, should be subjected to excommunication and perpetual malediction.[49] In England, Cromwell's Parliament made a determined effort to check the practice.[50] A Scotch law of 1600 rendered the bare act of engaging in a duel, without license from the king, a capital offence.[51] About the same period the Spanish Cortes passed a law which subjected all parties to a duel to the penalties of treason.[52] In 1602, Henry IV. of France issued an edict condemning to death whoever should give or accept a challenge or act as second;[53] and already several edicts against duelling had been promulgated under Louis XIII.[54] when, in 1626, there was published a new one punishing with death any person who had killed his adversary in a duel, or had been found guilty of sending a challenge a second time.[55] But all these enactments had little or no effect. We are told that in the eight years between 1601 and 1609, two thousand men of noble birth fell in duels in France; and, according to Lord Herbert of Cherbury, who was ambassador at the court of Louis XIII., there was scarce a Frenchman worth looking on who had not killed his man in a duel.[56] As Robertson observes, in reference to duelling, "no custom, how absurd soever it may be, if it has subsisted long, or derives its force from the manners and prejudices of the age in which it prevails, was ever abolished by the bare promulgation of laws and statutes."[57] In spite of laws which directly prohibit duelling, or which punish with great severity anyone who kills another in a duel, sometimes even subjecting {509} him to punishment for murder,[58] the duel still prevails in many European countries as a recognised custom, so much supported by public opinion that the laws referring to it are seldom or never applied. [Footnote 42: Lea, _op. cit._ p. 199 _sqq._ In England, however, it was formally abolished by law as late as 1819 (Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, i. 249 _sq._).] [Footnote 43: Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel des peuples modernes_, ii. 182. Lea, _op. cit._ p. 206 _sqq._] [Footnote 44: Robertson, _History of the Reign of the Emperor Charles V._ i. 357 _sq._ 'Notitia gurpitionis,' in Bouquet, _Recueil des historiens des Gaules et de la France_, ix. 729.] [Footnote 45: Lea, _op. cit._ pp. 200-205, 211 _sq._ Unger, _loc. cit._ p. 392 _sqq._] [Footnote 46: Storr, 'Duel,' in _Encyclopædia Britannica_, vii. 512.] [Footnote 47: Buckle, _Miscellaneous and Posthumous Works_, i. 386. _Cf._ Bosquett, _Treatise on Duelling_, p. 79.] [Footnote 48: Storr, _loc. cit._ p. 511.] [Footnote 49: _Canons and Decrees of the Council of Trent_, Session xxv. 19, p. 274 _sq._] [Footnote 50: Pike, _History of Crime in England_, ii. 192.] [Footnote 51: Hume, _Commentaries on the Law of Scotland_, ii. 281. Erskine, _Principles of the Law of Scotland_, p. 560.] [Footnote 52: Truman, _Field of Honor_, p. 70.] [Footnote 53: Isambert, Taillandier, and Decrusy, _Recueil général des anciennes lois françaises_, xv. 351 _sq._] [Footnote 54: _Ibid._ xvi. 21, 106, 146.] [Footnote 55: _Ibid._ xvi. 176, 179.] [Footnote 56: Storr, _loc. cit._ p. 512.] [Footnote 57: Robertson, _op. cit._ i. 66.] [Footnote 58: Günther, _Die Idee der Wiedervergeltung_, iii. 225, n. 467. Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, iii. 99 _sqq._ Gelli, _Il duello_, p. 21.] This curious practice of taking the law into one's own hands, which we find existing in the midst of modern civilisation, is explicable, partly from the indifference with which legislators have treated offences against honour,[59] partly from the force of habit. The insulted person, finding no adequate legal remedy for the affront he has suffered, determines to be his own avenger, and challenges the offender to fight. Nor is revenge his only motive. He desires also to wash off the indignity by showing that he respects his honour more than his life. The notion that a challenge to mortal combat effaces the blot which an insult has imprinted upon a man's honour is a survival from a period when the honourable man was above everything a brave man.[60] By displaying courage the offended party demonstrates that he is not worthy of contempt, by showing timidity he condemns himself. So far as justice is concerned, the duel, of course, became an absurdity as soon as it ceased to be looked upon in the light of an ordeal. It compels the insulted person to expose himself to a fresh injury from the side of an impudent offender, it allows the scoundrel to repay the most condign censure with a mortal stroke. But when a man's honour is at stake the voice of justice is easily silenced, and the pressure of ancient habit is greater than ever. As is usual in similar cases, a variety of more or less futile arguments are adduced to give their support to the survival. Lord Kames maintained that, if two persons agree to decide their quarrel by single combat, the State has nothing to do with it, since they need not make use of the protection which the State offers them.[61] But, as a matter of fact, the {510} duel is not a private affair between two individuals. As Moore observed, "a refusal of the duel is attended with such mortifying circumstances, with such an imputation of meanness and cowardice . . . , with such a studied contempt in public, and exclusion from the polite circle in private, as renders the alternative both cruel and inhuman";[62] and it would seem that the State ought to protect its members against such a compulsion. It is said that the duel "grasps the sword of justice, which the laws have dropped, punishing what no code can chastise--contempt and insult."[63] But we find that in countries where it no longer prevails, laws against insults, courts of honour, and especially more refined ideas as regards honorary satisfaction, have made it as useless as it is absurd, a matter of the past which nobody desires to revive. [Footnote 59: _Cf._ Bentham, _Theory of Legislation_, p. 299 _sqq._] [Footnote 60: That the modern duel is a special development of Chivalry has been pointed out by Buckle (_History of Civilization in England_, ii. 136 _sq._).] [Footnote 61: Kames, _Sketches of the History of Man_, i. 415 n.] [Footnote 62: Moore, _Full Inquiry into the Subject of Suicide_, ii. 276.] [Footnote 63: Quoted by Millingen, _History of Duelling_, i. 300.] CHAPTER XXII BODILY INJURIES CLOSELY related to the right to life is the right to bodily integrity. Indeed, homicide is, generally speaking, the highest form of bodily injury which can, in the nature of things, be inflicted, although there are some forms of ill-treatment which are more terrible than death itself.[1] [Footnote 1: _Cf._ Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, iii. 11.] In the case of bodily injuries the magnitude of the offence is, other things being equal, proportionate to the harm inflicted. At the lower stages of civilisation we meet with the principle of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, or the offender has to pay an adequate compensation for the injury.[2] It is said in the Laws of Manu that, if a blow is struck against men in order to give them pain, the judge shall inflict a fine in proportion to the amount of pain caused.[3] According to Muhammedan law, retaliation for intentional wounds and mutilations is allowed, but a fine may be accepted instead. The fine for depriving a man of any of his five senses, or dangerously wounding him, or grievously disfiguring him for life, or cutting off a member that is single, as the {512} nose, is the whole price of blood; the fine for a member of which there are two and not more, as a hand or a foot, is half the price of blood; the fine for a member of which there are ten, as a finger or a toe, is a tenth of the price of blood.[4] The scale of fines for bodily injuries contained in many of the early Teutonic law-books is minute to a degree.[5] According to various texts of the Salic law, 100 solidi--that is, a moiety of the _wergeld_--must be paid for depriving a man of a hand, foot, eye, or the nose; the thumb and great toe were valued at 50 solidi; the second finger with which the bow was drawn, at 35.[6] With respect to other acts of violence, the fine varied according to several circumstances, as, whether the blow was given with a stick or with closed fist, whether the brain was laid bare, whether certain bones were obtruded and how much, whether blood flowed from the wound on the ground, and so forth.[7] In the Anglo-Saxon codes almost every part and particle of the body, every tooth, toe, and nail, had its price. According to the Laws of Aethelbirht, for instance, twenty shillings were paid for striking off a thumb, three for a thumb nail, eight for the forefinger, eleven for the little finger.[8] In early Celtic law different amounts of injury were taxed with a similar affected precision.[9] Nothing can better give us an idea of the business-like manner in which the whole subject was treated than the Irish law against castration. If the injured persons be people to whom the organs extirpated are of no use, "such as a decrepit old man or a man in orders, there is nothing due to them for the loss of them, but body-fine according to the severity of the wound."[10] {513} After this one is almost surprised to read in the ancient laws of Ireland that, when a person had once been maimed, and received part or all of his body-fine, no subsequent wrong-doer could insist that the injured person should be rated as a damaged article.[11] [Footnote 2: Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 61 _sqq._ Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, pp. 208 (Takue), 502 (Barea and Kunáma). Burton, _Two Trips to Gorilla Land_, i. 105 (Mpongwe). Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 61 _sq._ Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 82 (Kandhs). Earl, _Papuans_, p. 83 (Papuans of Dory). Kubary, _Die socialen Einrichtungen der Pelauer_, p. 74 (Pelew Islanders). Petroff, 'Report on Alaska,' in _Tenth Census of the United States_, p. 105 (Thlinkets).] [Footnote 3: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 286.] [Footnote 4: Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 120. Sachau, _Muhammedanisches Recht_, p. 764.] [Footnote 5: Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 729. Stemann, _Den danske Retshistorie indtil Christian V.'s Lov_, p. 658. Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, i. 56. Lappenberg, _History of England under the Anglo-Saxon Kings_, ii. 422.] [Footnote 6: _Lex Salica_, edited by Hessels, coll. 163-167, 170, 172-177, 179.] [Footnote 7: _Ibid._ col. 100 _sqq._] [Footnote 8: _Laws of Æthelbirht_, 54.] [Footnote 9: _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, iii. pp. cix., 349. _Venedotian Code_, iii. 23 (_Ancient Laws and Institutes of Wales_, p. 151 _sqq._). _Dimetian Code_, ii. 17 (_ibid._ p. 246 _sqq._). _Gwentian Code_, ii. 6 _sq._ (_ibid._ p. 340 _sq._).] [Footnote 10: _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, iii. 355.] [Footnote 11: _Ibid._ iii. pp. cix., cxi., 349, 351.] However, the degree of the offence depends not only on the suffering inflicted, but on the station of the parties concerned; and in some cases the infliction of pain is held allowable or even a duty. By using violence against their parents, children grossly offend against the duty of filial regard and submissiveness. It is said in the Laws of [Hv]ammurabi, that a man who has struck his father shall lose his hands.[12] According to Exodus, "he that smiteth his father, or his mother, shall be surely put to death."[13] In Corea the man who strikes his father is beheaded.[14] On the other hand, parents are allowed to inflict corporal punishment on their children; but this is not the case everywhere--indeed, among many of the lower races children are never, or hardly ever, subject to such punishment.[15] Among the Australian Dieyerie the children are never beaten, and should any woman violate this law, she is in turn beaten by her husband.[16] The Efatese, says Mr. Macdonald, "are shocked to see Europeans correcting their children; I never saw an Efatese beating a child."[17] The Eskimo {514} visited by Mr. Hall never inflict physical chastisement upon the children; "if a child does wrong--for instance, if it becomes enraged, the mother says nothing to it till it becomes calm. Then she talks to it, and with good effect."[18] Among the Tehuelches of Patagonia "the children are indulged in every way, ride the best horses, and are not corrected for any misbehaviour."[19] Among the Gaika tribe of the Kafirs, again, parents may inflict corporal punishment on their children, but are fined for causing permanent injuries to their persons, such as the loss of an eye or a tooth.[20] [Footnote 12: _Laws of [Hv]ammurabi_, 195.] [Footnote 13: _Exodus_, xxi. 15.] [Footnote 14: Griffis, _Corea_, p. 236.] [Footnote 15: Curr, _Recollections of Squatting in Victoria_, p. 252 (Bangerang tribe). Angas, _Savage Life and Scenes in Australia_, i. 94 (tribes of the Lower Murray). Calvert, _Aborigines of Western Australia_, p. 30 _sq._ Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 192 _sq._ (Northern Queensland aborigines). Kubary, 'Die Palau-Inseln in der Südsee,' in _Journal des Museum Godeffroy_, iv. 56 (Pelew Islanders). Man, _Sonthalia and the Sonthals_, p. 78. von Siebold, _Die Aino auf der Insel Yesso_, p. 11. Murdoch, 'Ethnological Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 417 (Point Barrow Eskimo). Boas, 'Central Eskimo,' _ibid._ vi. 566. Richardson, in Franklin, _Journey to the Shores of the Polar Sea_, p. 68 (Crees). Lumholtz, _Unknown Mexico_, p. 274 (Tarahumares). Rautanen, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 329 (Ondonga). See also Steinmetz, _Ethnologische Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, ii. ch. vi. § 2, especially p. 203; _Idem_, 'Das Verhältnis zwischen Eltern und Kindern bei den Naturvölkern,' in _Zeitschrift für Socialwissenschaft_, i. 610 _sqq._] [Footnote 16: Gason, 'Manners and Customs of the Dieyerie Tribe,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 258.] [Footnote 17: Macdonald, _Oceania_, p. 195.] [Footnote 18: Hall, _Arctic Researches_, p. 568.] [Footnote 19: Musters, _At Home with the Patagonians_, p. 197.] [Footnote 20: Brownlee, in Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 118.] The power which the husband possesses over his wife much more commonly implies the right of inflicting pain on her than of punishing her capitally; but even among savages and barbarians the former right is not universally granted to him. The Pelew Islanders do not allow a husband to beat his wife.[21] Among various Eskimo tribes the women are rarely, if ever, beaten.[22] Among the Central Eskimo the husband "is not allowed to maltreat or punish his wife; if he does, she may leave him at any time, and the wife's mother can always command a divorce."[23] Many, or most, of the North American Indians consider it disgraceful for a husband to beat his wife.[24] Among the Kalmucks a man has no right to raise his hand against a woman.[25] Among the Madis women are never beaten.[26] Among the Ondonga a man is not allowed to chastise his wife.[27] Among the Gaika tribe of the Kafirs "a husband may beat his wife for misconduct; but if he should strike out her eye or a tooth, or otherwise maim her, he is fined at the discretion of the Chief."[28] {515} According to the native code of Malacca, "a man may beat his wife, but not as he would chastise a slave, and not till blood flows"; if he should do so, he is fined.[29] According to Muhammedan law, a husband may chastise an obstinate wife, but he must not cause her great suffering, nor inflict on her a wound.[30] We read in the Laws of Manu:--"A wife, a son, a slave, a pupil, and a younger brother of the full blood, who have committed faults, may be beaten with a rope or a split bamboo, but on the back part of the body only, never on a noble part; he who strikes them otherwise will incur the same guilt as a thief."[31] In Europe the idea expressed by the ancient Roman that "he who beats his wife or children lays hands on that which is most sacred and holy,"[32] was shared neither by the ancient Teutons[33] nor by mediæval legislators. According to the Jydske Lov, a husband was allowed to chastise his wife with a stick or rod, though not with a weapon; but he had to take care not to break any limb of her body.[34] In the Coutumes du Beauvoisis it is said that a man may beat his wife if she belies or curses him, or disobeys his "reasonable" commands, or for some other similar reason, though he must not kill or maim her.[35] Among Russian and South Slavonian[36] peasants public opinion still permits the husband to inflict corporal punishment on his wife. In Russia "the bridegroom, while he is leading his bride to her future home, gives her from time to time light blows from a whip, saying at each stroke: 'Forget the manners of thine own {516} family, and learn those of mine.' As soon as they have entered their bedroom, the husband says to his wife, 'Take off my boots.' The wife immediately obeys her husband's orders, and, taking them off, finds in one of them a whip, symbol of his authority over her person. This authority implies the right of the husband to control the behaviour of his wife, and to correct her every time he thinks fit, not only by words, but also by blows. The opinion which a Russian writer of the sixteenth century . . . expresses as to the propriety of personal chastisement, and even as to its beneficial effects on the health, is still shared by the country people. . . . The customary Court seems to admit the use of such disciplinary proceedings by not interfering in the personal relations of husband and wife. 'Never judge the quarrel of husband and wife,' is a common saying, scrupulously observed by the village tribunals, which refuse to hear any complaint on the part of the aggrieved woman, at least so long as the punishment has not been of such a nature as to endanger life or limb."[37] [Footnote 21: Kubary, 'Die Palau-Inseln,' in _Jour. des Museum Godeffroy_, iv. 43.] [Footnote 22: King, in _Jour. Ethn. Soc._ i. 147. _Cf._ Murdoch, _loc. cit._ p. 414.] [Footnote 23: Boas, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ vi. 579.] [Footnote 24: Waitz, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, iii. 101. _Cf._ Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 178 (Gallinomero).] [Footnote 25: Liadov, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ i. 405.] [Footnote 26: Ratzel, _History of Mankind_, iii. 40.] [Footnote 27: Rautanen, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 329.] [Footnote 28: Brownlee, in Maclean, _op. cit._ p. 117.] [Footnote 29: Newbold, _British Settlements in the Straits of Malacca_, ii. 311 _sq._] [Footnote 30: Sachau, _Muhammedanisches Recht_, pp. 10, 44, 849.] [Footnote 31: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 299 _sq._] [Footnote 32: Plutarch, _Cato Major_, xx. 3.] [Footnote 33: Nordström, _Bidrag till den svenska samhällsförfattningens historia_, ii. 61 _sq._ Stemann, _op. cit._ p. 323 _sq._] [Footnote 34: _Jydske Lov_, ii. 82.] [Footnote 35: Beaumanoir, _Coutumes du Beauvoisis_, lvii. 6, vol. ii. p. 333: "Il loist bien à l'homme batre se feme, sans mort et sans mehaing, quant ele le meffet; si comme quant ele est en voie de fere folie de son cors, ou quant ele dement son baron ou maudist, ou quant ele ne veut obeir à ses resnables commandemens que prode feme doit fere: en tel cas et en sanllables est il bien mestiers que li maris soit castierres de se feme resnablement. . . . Li maris le doit castier et repenre selonc toutes les manieres qu'il verra que bon sera por li oster de tel visse, exepté mort ou mehaing."] [Footnote 36: Krauss, _Sitte und Branch der Südslaven_, p. 526.] [Footnote 37: Kovalewsky, _Modern Customs and Ancient Laws of Russia_, p. 44 _sq._ _Cf._ Meiners, _Vergleichung des ältern und neuern Russlandes_, ii. 167 _sq._; _Idem_, _History of the Female Sex_, i. 160.] It seems that, wherever slavery exists, the master has a right to inflict corporal punishment on his slave, even though he be forbidden to deprive him of any of his limbs. According to the Chinese Penal Code, the master, or relations of the master of a guilty slave, may chastise such slave in any degree short of occasioning his death, without being liable to any punishment;[38] whereas "all slaves who are guilty of designedly striking their masters, shall, without making any distinction between principals and accessories, be beheaded."[39] Among the Hebrews, if a man by blows destroyed an eye or a tooth, or any other member belonging to his man-servant or maid-servant, he was bound to let the injured person go free, though full retribution was legally ordained for bodily injuries done to free Israelites.[40] In the North American Slave States and {517} in the colonies of all European Powers the master could inflict any number of blows upon his slave, but if he mutilated him he was fined or subjected to a very moderate term of imprisonment.[41] [Footnote 38: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cccxiv. p. 340.] [Footnote 39: _Ibid._ sec. cccxiv. p. 338.] [Footnote 40: _Exodus_, xxi. _sqq._] [Footnote 41: 'Negro Act' of 1740, § 37, in Brevard, _Digest of the Public Statute Law of South Carolina_, ii. 241. Stephen, _Slavery of the British West India Colonies_, i. 36 _sq._ Edwards, _History of the British West Indies_, ii. 192.] The maltreatment of another person's slave has, even by civilised legislators, been regarded as an injury done to the master rather than to the slave. According to Muhammedan law, the fine imposed on a free person for injuring a slave varies according to the value of the slave.[42] In the Institutes of Justinian it is said that, "if a man were to flog another man's slave in a cruel manner, an action would, in this case, lie against him," but that the master has no right of action against a person who has struck the slave with his fist.[43] In the Negro Act of 1740 it was prescribed that, if a slave was beaten by any person who had not sufficient cause or lawful authority for so doing, and if he or she was maimed or disabled by such beating from performing his or her work, the offender should pay to the owner of the slave "the sum of 15 shillings current money per diem, for every day of his lost time, and also the charge of the cure of such slave."[44] But if the beating of the slave caused no loss of service to his master, the offender was not, as a rule, punished by law. A decision of the Supreme Court of Maryland established expressly the law to be, in that State, that trespass would not lie by a master for an assault and battery on his slave, unless it were attended with a loss of service.[45] If, on the other {518} hand, the offender was a slave and his victim a white man, the injury was regarded in a very different light. We read in an act of Georgia passed in 1770:--"If any slave shall presume to strike any white person, such slave . . . shall . . . for the second offence suffer death: But in case any such slave shall grievously wound, maim, or bruise any white person, though it shall be only the first offence, such slave shall suffer death."[46] And to offer violence, to strike, attempt to strike, struggle with, or resist any white person, was, even by the latest meliorating laws issued in the British Colonies, declared to be a crime in a slave which, if the white person had been wounded or hurt, and in some islands even without that condition, should subject the offender to death, dismemberment, or other severe penalties.[47] We read in one of the codes of ancient Wales:--"If a freeman strike a bondman, let him pay him twelve pence. . . . If a bondman strike any freeman, it is just to cut off his right hand, or his right foot."[48] According to Chinese law, a freeman striking a slave shall "be punished less severely by one degree than in the ordinary cases of the same offence"; whereas "a slave striking a freeman shall, in proportion to the consequences, be punished one degree more severely than is by law provided in similar cases between equals."[49] [Footnote 42: Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 120.] [Footnote 43: _Institutiones_, iv. 4. 3.] [Footnote 44: Brevard, _op. cit._ ii. 231 _sq._] [Footnote 45: Harris and Johnson, _Reports of Cases argued and determined in the General Court and Court of Appeals of the State of Maryland_, i. 4. Of all the Slave States, so far as I know, Kentucky was the only one where the owner of a slave might bring an action of trespass against anyone who whipped, stroke, or otherwise **abused the slave without the owner's consent, notwithstanding the slave was not so injured that the master lost his services thereby (Morehead and Brown, _Digest of the Statute Laws of Kentucky_, ii. 1481). In Tennessee, according to an act of 1813, a person was punished if he "wantonly and without sufficient cause" beat or abused the slave of another (Caruthers and Nicholson, _Compilation of the Statutes of Tennessee_, p. 678).] [Footnote 46: Prince, _Digest of the Laws of the State of Georgia_, p. 781.] [Footnote 47: Stephen, _Slavery of the British West India Colonies_, i. 188. Edwards, _History of the British West Indies_, ii. 202 _sq._] [Footnote 48: _Gwentian Code_, ii. 5. 31 _sq._ (_Ancient Laws and Institutes of Wales_, p. 339). For ancient Swedish law on this subject, see _Gotlands-Lagen_, i. 19. 37.] [Footnote 49: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cccxiii. p. 336.] Very frequently the penalties or fines for bodily injuries are influenced by the class or rank of the parties even when both of them are freemen. Among the Marea, whilst a commoner who wounds another commoner simply pays him compensation for the hurt, a commoner who wounds a nobleman must abandon to him all his property and become his slave.[50] At Zimmé the fines for assaults "vary greatly, according to the rank of the party complaining."[51] {519} Among the Ossetes the limbs of a noble are rated at twice as much as the limbs of an ordinary freeman.[52] The Laws of [Hv]ammurabi contain the following provisions:--"If a man has caused the loss of a gentleman's eye, his eye one shall cause to be lost. If he has shattered a gentleman's limb, one shall shatter his limb. If he has caused a poor man to lose his eye or shattered a poor man's limb, he shall pay one mina of silver. If a man has made the tooth of a man that is his equal to fall out, one shall make his tooth fall out. If he has made the tooth of a poor man to fall out, he shall pay one-third of a mina of silver,"[53] According to the Laws of Manu, if a man of a low caste does hurt to a man of any of the three highest castes, the offending member shall be cut off;[54] and he who intentionally strikes a Brâhmana in anger, even if it were only with a blade of grass, "will be born during twenty-one existences in the wombs of such beings where men are born in punishment of their sins."[55] In early Teutonic and Celtic codes we meet with the principle that the compensation by which a bodily injury is to be atoned for varies according to the rank of the parties concerned.[56] [Footnote 50: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 244.] [Footnote 51: Colquhoun, _Amongst the Shans_, p. 132.] [Footnote 52: von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 409.] [Footnote 53: _Laws of [Hv]ammurabi_, 196-198, 200 _sq._ _Cf._ _ibid._ 202 _sq._] [Footnote 54: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 279.] [Footnote 55: _Ibid._ iv. 166. _Cf._ _ibid._ iv. 167.] [Footnote 56: Kemble, _Saxons in England_, i. 134. _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, iii. p. cxi. _Dimetian Code_, ii. 17. 17 (_Ancient Laws and Institutes of Wales_, p. 248). _Gwentian Code_, ii. 7. 13 (_ibid._ 342). de Valroger, _Les Celtes_, p. 470. Innes, _Scotland in the Middle Ages_, p. 180.] We have noticed that men in their estimation of human life, particularly at the earlier stages of culture, discriminate between fellow-tribesmen or compatriots and aliens. A similar distinction is made with reference to other bodily injuries. It reaches its pitch in the sufferings inflicted on vanquished enemies. The treatment to which the Kamchadales subjected their male prisoners of war included "burning, hewing them to pieces, tearing their entrails out when alive, and hanging them by the feet."[57] Some of the Dacotahs, when they had taken a captive, "secured him {520} to a stake and allowed their women to torture him by mutilating him previous to killing him";[58] and of many other North American Indians it is said that they "devote their captives to death, with the most agonising tortures."[59] The wars of the Society Islanders, Ellis observes, were most merciless and destructive; "invention itself was tortured to find out new modes of inflicting suffering."[60] On the other hand, there are not wanting instances of savage warfare being conducted on more humane principles. Dobrizhoffer tells us that "cruelty towards captives and enemies is abhorred by the Abipones, who never torture the dying";[61] and among the Somals no injury is done to enemies who have been severely wounded in the battle.[62] Civilised nations maintain that, in time of war, no greater injuries should be inflicted upon the enemy than are necessary to obtain the end of the war. [Footnote 57: Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, p. 200.] [Footnote 58: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 313.] [Footnote 59: Adair, _History of the American Indians_, p. 388.] [Footnote 60: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 293. _Cf._ Williams, _Narrative of Missionary Enterprises_, p. 533 (Samoans); Foreman, _Philippine Islands_, p. 185; Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 172 _sq._] [Footnote 61: Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, ii. 411.] [Footnote 62: Paulitschke, _Ethnographie Nordost-Afrikas_, p. 255.] The right to bodily integrity is influenced by religious differences as well as national. According to Muhammedan law, the compensation for injuries inflicted on a Jew or a Christian is a third, for those inflicted on a Parsee only a fifteenth, of the sum to be paid for similar injuries done to a Moslem.[63] A mediæval Spanish law prescribes that a Christian who beats a Jew shall pay four maravedis, but that a Jew who beats a Christian shall pay ten.[64] [Footnote 63: Sachau, _op. cit._ p. 764.] [Footnote 64: 'Fuero de Sepulveda,' art. 37 _sq._, quoted by Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, p. 74.] The right to bodily integrity may be forfeited by the commission of a crime. As has been already noticed, physical injuries are frequently resented according to the law of like for like;[65] and in other cases, also, the infliction {521} of corporal suffering--by mutilation, scourging, and so forth--is a common penalty. Amputation or mutilation of the offending member has particularly been in vogue among so-called peoples of culture.[66] It is often **mentioned in the Code of [Hv]ammurabi[67] and in the Laws of Manu.[68] It occurred among the Greeks,[69] Romans,[70] and Teutons.[71] Mediæval codes contain numerous instances of it.[72] The Laws of Alfred prescribe that a male _theow_ who commits a rape upon a female _theow_ shall be emasculated;[73] and in a later age Bracton reserves the same punishment for the deflowerer of a virgin, with the addition that the offender shall also lose his eyes, "on account of his looking at the beauty, for which he coveted possession of the virgin."[74] According to a law of Cnut, an adulteress shall have her nose and ears cut off.[75] Aethelstan enjoined that an illicit coiner should lose his right hand;[76] whereas in later times this punishment was restricted to those who struck anybody in the king's presence or in his court.[77] By the statute law of Scotland the punishment of forgery, or falsifying of writings, was at first the amputation of the hand, afterwards dismembering of it, joined with other pains.[78] In some countries a perjurer lost the offending fingers or his right hand,[79] in others he had his tongue cut {522} off or pierced with a hot iron;[80] and in England, before the Conquest, a man might lose his tongue by bringing a false and scandalous accusation.[81] In the seventeenth century a person in Scotland was sentenced to have his tongue bored because he had libelled the Lord Justice General.[82] In German and Austrian codes we find, even in the eighteenth century, traces of the principle of punishing the offending member;[83] and in France the last survival of it--the amputation of the right hand of a parricide before his execution--disappeared only in 1832.[84] Growing refinement of feeling has made people averse from the use of surgery in the administration of justice; and in most European countries grown-up offenders are no longer liable to corporal punishment of any kind.[85] [Footnote 65: _Supra_, p. 178. See also _Laws of [Hv]ammurabi_, 196, 197, 200; _Exodus_, xxi. 24 _sq._; _Leviticus_, xxiv. 19 _sq._; _Deuteronomy_, xix. 21; _Koran_, v. 49; Sachau, _op. cit._ p. 762 _sq._ (Muhammedan law); Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Gentium_, p. 426 _sq._ (Greeks); _Lex Duodecim Tabularum_, viii. 2; Günther, _Idee der Wiedervergeltung_, p. 186 _sqq._ (Teutons).] [Footnote 66: For its occurrence in modern Persia, see Polak, _Persien_, i. 256, 329 _sq._; in Fez, see Leo Africanus, _History and Description of Africa_, ii. 470. The Koran (v. 42) orders theft to be punished by cutting off the hands of the thief, but this punishment is now seldom practised in Muhammedan countries. Among the lower races I have met only with a few instances of punishing the offending member. In Ashanti intrigue with the female slaves of the royal household is punished by emasculation (Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 287); and the Kamchadales burn the hands of people who have been frequently caught in theft (Krasheninnikoff, _op. cit._ p. 179).] [Footnote 67: _Laws of [Hv]ammurabi_, 192, 194, 195, 218, 226, 253.] [Footnote 68: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 270-272, 279-283, 322, 334, 374; xi. 105.] [Footnote 69: Günther, _op. cit._ i. 94 _sqq._] [Footnote 70: _Ibid._ i. 155 _sqq._] [Footnote 71: _Ibid._ i. 195 _sqq._ Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 510. Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 740.] [Footnote 72: Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel des peuples modernes_, ii. 699. _Idem_, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, p. 94. Cibrario, _Economia politica del medio eve_, i. 346 _sq._] [Footnote 73: _Laws of Alfred_, ii. 25.] [Footnote 74: Bracton, _De Legibus et Consuetudinibus Angliæ_, fol. 147, vol. ii. 480 _sq._] [Footnote 75: _Laws of Cnut_, ii. 54.] [Footnote 76: _Laws of Æthelstan_, 14.] [Footnote 77: Strutt, _View of the Manners, Customs, &c., of the Inhabitants of England_, iii. 43.] [Footnote 78: Erskine, _Principles of the Law of Scotland_, p. 571.] [Footnote 79: Stemann, _op. cit._ p. 645. Charles V.'s _Peinliche Gerichts Ordnung_, art. 107, p. 235. Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the Time of Edward I._ ii. 453. Günther, _op. cit._ ii. 57.] [Footnote 80: Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel des peuples modernes_, ii. 699. _Idem_, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, p. 599 _sq._ Pitcairn, _Criminal Trials in Scotland_, iii. 539.] [Footnote 81: Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 539.] [Footnote 82: Rogers, _Social Life in Scotland_, ii. 35.] [Footnote 83: Günther, _op. cit._ ii. 55-57, 65; iii. 79.] [Footnote 84: Chauveau and Hélie, _Théorie du Code Pénal_, iii. 394.] [Footnote 85: See von Liszt, _Le droit criminel des états européens_, _passim_; Wrede, _Die Körperstrafen bei allen Völkern_, _passim_.] Corporal punishment has generally been, by preference, a punishment for poor and common people or slaves.[86] Blows and abusive language, says Plutarch, seem to be more fitting for slaves than the freeborn.[87] According to the religious law of the Hindus, a Brâhmana shall not suffer corporal punishment for any offence.[88] Among the Hebrews[89] and Muhammedans,[90] among the Romans[91] and in the Middle Ages,[92] the punishment of mutilation could generally be commuted to a fine. For a long period, in {523} Christian Europe, as well as in Pagan Rome during the Empire,[93] the punishment was more savage in proportion as the delinquent was more helpless. "En crimes," says Loysel, "les villains sont plus griévement punis en leurs corps que les nobles. . . . Et où le vilain perdroit la vie, ou un membre de son corps, le noble perdra l'honneur, et réponse en cour."[94] Indeed, whilst the slave incurred the penalty of mutilation for the most trifling offence, the noble might be exempted from corporal punishment of any kind.[95] In a similar manner the social _status_ of a person has influenced his right to bodily integrity with reference to judicial torture. According to the Chinese Penal Code, "it shall not, in any tribunal of government, be permitted to put the question by torture to those who belong to any of the eight privileged classes, in consideration of the respect due to their character."[96] In Rome, under the Republic, torture was exclusively confined to the slaves.[97] In mediæval Christendom it was made use of to an extent and with a cold-blooded ferocity unknown to any heathen nation, and in cases of heresy and treason it was applied to every class of the community.[98] But the tortures inflicted on the nobles and the clergy were lighter than in the case of ordinary laymen, and proof of a more decided character was required to justify their being exposed to torment.[99] "Noble persons and persons of quality," says Dumoulin, "cannot so easily be subjected to torture as persons who are of mean and plebeian rank."[100] Guazzini, an eminent Italian jurisconsult and a recognised expositor of the law of torture in the days of its highest ascendency and ripest maturity, observes that the torment inflicted {524} on a person shall be proportionate to his age, his physical constitution, his mental habits, and his social _status_;[101] and he adds that bishops and others in high civil dignity are exempt from torture even under strong presumptions of guilt.[102] [Footnote 86: See, for instance, the _Laws of Manu_, viii. 267, 279.] [Footnote 87: Plutarch, _De educatione puerorum_, 12.] [Footnote 88: _Baudhâyana_, i. 10. 18. 17. _Institutes of Vishnu_, v. 2.] [Footnote 89: Günther, _op. cit._ i. 55.] [Footnote 90: _Ibid._ i. 74 _sq._ Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 120. Sachau, _op. cit._ p. 764. According to Muhammedan law, it is not obligatory for the injured party to accept compensation in lieu of mutilation.] [Footnote 91: Günther, _op. cit._ i. 124 _sqq._ Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 981.] [Footnote 92: Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel des peuples modernes_, ii. 557 _sq._ Strutt, _op. cit._ ii. 8.] [Footnote 93: _Cf._ Mackenzie, _Studies in Roman Law_, p. 414 _sq._] [Footnote 94: Loysel, _Institutes coutumières_, vi. 2. 31 _sq._, vol. ii. 219 _sq._] [Footnote 95: Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, p. 469.] [Footnote 96: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cccciv. p. 441.] [Footnote 97: Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 405.] [Footnote 98: Suarez de Paz, _Praxis ecclesiastica et secularis_, v. 1. 3. 12, fol. 154 b. _Cf._ Lecky, _Rise and Influence of the Spirit of Rationalism in Europe_, i. 328.] [Footnote 99: Lea, _Superstition and Force_, p. 526 _sq._] [Footnote 100: Dumoulin, quoted by Welling, 'Law of Torture,' in _The American Anthropologist_, v. 210 _sq._] [Footnote 101: Guazzini, _Tractatus ad defensam inquisitorum_, xxx. 4. 24, vol. ii. 86.] [Footnote 102: _Ibid._ xxx. 17, vol. ii. 102 _sq._] The moral notions regarding the infliction of bodily injuries require little comment. They are based on the principle of sympathetic resentment, modified by the ascription of particular rights to some and particular duties to others, on account of the relation in which the parties stand to each other; and they follow the same rules as the ideas concerning homicide, to the exclusion, of course, of all such considerations as result from fear of the slain man's ghost or from the religious horror of taking life. One point, however, calls for special attention. The forcible interference with another person's body not only causes physical pain but commonly entails disgrace upon the sufferer. This largely accounts for the fact that a person's right to bodily integrity varies so much according to his social standing.[103] Even among the lower races we meet with the notions that an act of bodily violence involves a gross insult, and that corporal punishment disgraces the criminal more than any other form of penalty. According to the Malay Code, "the persons who may be put to death without the previous knowledge of the king or nobles, are an adulterer, a person guilty of treason, a thief who cannot otherwise be apprehended, and a person who offers another a grievous affront, such as a blow over the face."[104] Among the Maoris a blow with the fist would lead to a combat with arms.[105] The Thlinkets consider corporal punishment to {525} be the greatest indignity to which a freeman can be subjected, hence they never inflict it.[106] And civilised nations who are ready to punish certain criminals with death, hold whipping to be a punishment too infamous to be employed. [Footnote 103: _Cf._ _Dimetian Code_, ii. 17. 17 (_Ancient Laws and Institutes of Wales_, p. 248): "The Law says that the limbs of all persons are of equal worth; if a limb of the king be broken, that it is of the same worth as the limb of the villain: yet, nevertheless, the worth of saraad [or fine for insult] to the king, or to a breyr, is more than the saraad of a villain, if a limb belonging to him be cut." See also _Gwentian Code_, ii. 7. 12 _sq._ (_ibid._ p. 342).] [Footnote 104: Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, iii. 105 _sq._] [Footnote 105: Shortland, _Traditions and Superstitions of the New Zealanders_, p. 227.] [Footnote 106: Holmberg, 'Ethnograph. Skizzen über die Völker des russischen Amerika,' in _Acta Societatis Scientiarum Fennicæ_, iv. 321.] CHAPTER XXIII CHARITY AND GENEROSITY IN previous chapters we have examined the regard for the life and physical well-being of others as displayed in moral ideas concerning homicide and the infliction of bodily harm. We shall now consider the same subject from another point of view, namely, the valuation of such conduct as positively promotes the existence and material comfort of a fellow-creature. There is one duty so universal and obvious that it is seldom mentioned: the mother's duty to rear her children, provided that they are suffered to live. Another duty--equally primitive, I believe, in the human race--is incumbent on the married man: the protection and support of his family. We hear of this duty from all quarters of the savage world. Among the North American Indians it was considered disgraceful for a man to have more wives than he was able to maintain.[1] Mr. Powers says that among the Patwin, a Californian tribe which he believes to rank among the lowest in the world, "the sentiment that the men are bound to support the women--that is to furnish the supplies--is stronger even than among us."[2] Among the Iroquois it was the office of the husband "to make a mat, to repair the cabin of his wife, or to construct a new one." The product of his hunting expeditions, {527} during the first year of marriage, belonged of right to his wife, and afterwards he shared it equally with her, whether she remained in the village, or accompanied him to the chase.[3] Among the Botocudos, whose girls are married very young, remaining in the house of the father till the age of puberty, the husband is even then obliged to maintain his wife, though living apart from her.[4] Among the Lengua Indians of the Paraguayan Chaco the child of a woman whose husband deserts her is generally killed at birth, the mother feeling that it is the man's part of married life to provide meat for his offspring.[5] Azara states that, among the Charruas, "du moment où un homme se marie, il forme une famille à part, et travaille pour la nourrir."[6] Of the Fuegians it is said that, "as soon as a youth is able to maintain a wife, by his exertions in fishing or bird-catching, he obtains the consent of her relations."[7] The wretched Rock Veddahs in Ceylon "acknowledge the marital obligation and the duty of supporting their own families."[8] Among the Maldivians, "although a man is allowed four wives at one time, it is only on condition of his being able to support them."[9] The Nairs, we are told, consider it a husband's duty to provide his wife with food, clothing, and ornaments;[10] and almost the same is said by Dr. Schwaner with reference to the tribes of the Barito district, in the south east part of Borneo.[11] Among the cannibals of New Britain the chiefs have to see that the families of the warriors are properly maintained.[12] Concerning the Tonga Islanders Mariner states that "a married woman is one who cohabits with a man, and lives under his roof and protection."[13] Among the Maoris "the mission of woman was to increase and multiply, that of man to defend his home."[14] With reference to the Kurnai in South Australia, Mr. Howitt states that "the man has to provide for his family with the assistance of his wife. His share is to hunt for their support, and to fight for their protection."[15] In Lado, in Africa, the bridegroom has to assure his father-in-law three times that he will {528} protect his wife, calling the people present to witness.[16] Among the Touareg a man who deserts his wife is blamed, as he has taken upon himself the obligation of maintaining her.[17] [Footnote 1: Waitz, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, iii. 109. Carver, _Travels through the Interior Parts of North America_, p. 367.] [Footnote 2: Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 222.] [Footnote 3: Heriot, _Travels through the Canadas_, p. 338.] [Footnote 4: von Tschudi, _Reisen durch Südamerika_, ii. 283.] [Footnote 5: Hawtrey, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 295.] [Footnote 6: Azara, _Voyages dans l'Amérique méridionale_, ii. 22.] [Footnote 7: King and Fitzroy, _Voyages of the "Adventure" and "Beagle,"_ ii. 182.] [Footnote 8: Tennent, _Ceylon_, ii. 441.] [Footnote 9: Rosset, 'Maldive Islands,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xvi. 168 _sq._] [Footnote 10: Stewart, 'Notes on Northern Cachar,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxiv. 614.] [Footnote 11: Schwaner, _Borneo_, i. 199.] [Footnote 12: Angas, _Polynesia_, p. 373.] [Footnote 13: Mariner, _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 167.] [Footnote 14: Johnston, _Maoria_, p. 28 _sq._] [Footnote 15: Fison and Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 206.] [Footnote 16: Wilson and Felkin, _Uganda_, ii. 90.] [Footnote 17: Chavanne, _Die Sahara_, p. 209. _Cf._ Hanoteau and Letourneux, _La Kabylie_, ii. 167.] Among many of the lower races a man is not even permitted to marry until he has given some proof of his ability to support and protect his family.[18] Indeed, so closely is the idea that a man is bound to maintain his family connected with that of marriage and fatherhood, that sometimes even repudiated wives with their children are, at least to a certain extent, supported by their former husbands.[19] And upon the death of a husband, the obligation of maintaining his wife and her children devolves on his heirs, the wide-spread custom of a man marrying the widow of his deceased brother being not only a privilege, but, among several peoples, even a duty.[20] [Footnote 18: Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 18.] [Footnote 19: _Ibid._ p. 19.] [Footnote 20: _Ibid._ p. 511 _sq._] Turning to peoples who have reached a higher stage of culture:--Abû Shugâ[(] says that, among Muhammedans, parents are obliged to support their families, "if the children are both poor and under age, or both poor and lastingly infirm, or both poor and insane."[21] But that this duty chiefly devolves on the father is evident from the fact that the mother is even entitled to claim wages for nursing them.[22] Buddhistic law goes so far as to prescribe that the parents shall provide their son with a beautiful wife, and give him a share of the wealth belonging to the family.[23] It has been observed that in the Confucian books there is no mention of any real duties incumbent upon the father towards his children;[24] nor does the Decalogue contain anything on the subject; nor any law of ancient Greece or Rome.[25] But, as has been justly {529} argued, if legal prescriptions are wanting, that is because they are thought to be superfluous, nature itself having sufficiently prepared men for the performance of their duties towards their offspring.[26] So, also, it is regarded as a matter of course that the husband shall support his wife, however great power he may possess over her. Among the Romans _manus_ implied not only the wife's subordination to the husband, but also the husband's obligation to protect the wife.[27] [Footnote 21: Sachau, _Muhammedanisches Recht_, p. 18.] [Footnote 22: _Ibid._ p. 99 _sq._] [Footnote 23: Hardy, _Manual of Budhism_, p. 495.] [Footnote 24: Faber, _Digest of the Doctrines of Confucius_, p. 82.] [Footnote 25: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 13.] [Footnote 26: _Ibid._, p. 13. Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 141. Adam Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 199 _sq._] [Footnote 27: Rossbach, _Untersuchungen über die römische Ehe_, p. 32. _Cf._ _Laws of Manu_, ix. 74, 75, 95.] The parents' duty of taking care of their offspring is, in the first place, based on the sentiment of parental affection. That the maternal sentiment is universal in mankind is a fact too generally admitted to need demonstration; not so the father's love of his children. Savage men are commonly supposed to be very indifferent towards their offspring; but a detailed study of facts leads us to a different conclusion. It appears that, among the lower races, the paternal sentiment is hardly less universal than the maternal, although it is probably never so strong and in many cases distinctly feeble. But more often it displays itself with considerable intensity even among the rudest savages. In the often-quoted case of the Patagonian chief who, in a moment of passion, dashed his little son with the utmost violence against the rocks because he let a basket of eggs which the father handed to him fall down, we have only an instance of savage impetuosity. The same father "would, at any other time, have been the most daring, the most enduring, and the most self-devoted" in the support and defence of his child.[28] Similarly the Central Australian natives, in fits of sudden passion, when hardly knowing what they do, sometimes treat a child with great severity; but as a rule, to which there are very few exceptions, they are kind and considerate to their children, the men as well as the women carrying them when they get tired on the march, {530} and always seeing that they get a good share of any food.[29] All authorities agree that the Australian Black is affectionate to his children.[30] "From observation of various tribes in far distant parts of Australia," says Mr. Howitt, "I can assert confidently that love for their children is a marked feature in the aboriginal character. I cannot recollect having ever seen a parent beat or cruelly use a child; and a short road to the goodwill of the parents is, as amongst us, by noticing and admiring their children. No greater grief could be exhibited, by the fondest parents in the most civilised community at the death of some little child, than that which I have seen exhibited in an Australian native camp, not only by the immediate parents, but by the whole related group."[31] Other representatives of the lowest savagery, as the Veddahs[32] and Fuegians,[33] are likewise described as tender parents. Though few peoples have acquired a worse reputation for cruelty than the Fijians, even the greatest censurer of their character admits that the exhibition of parental love among them "is sometimes such as to be worthy of admiration";[34] whilst, according to another authority, "it is truly touching to see how parents are attached to their children."[35] The Bangala of the Upper Congo, "swayed one moment by a thirst for blood and indulging in the most horrible orgies, . . . may yet the next be found approaching their homes looking forward with {531} the liveliest interest to the caresses of their wives and children."[36] Carver asserts that he never saw among any other people greater proofs of parental or filial tenderness than among the North American Naudowessies.[37] Among the Point Barrow Eskimo "the affection of parents for their children is extreme";[38] and the same seems to be the case among the Eskimo in general.[39] Concerning the Aleuts Veniaminof wrote long ago:--"The children are often well fed and satisfied, while the parents almost perish with hunger. The daintiest morsel, the best dress, is always kept for them."[40] Mr. Hooper, again, found parental love nowhere more strongly exemplified than among the Chukchi; "the natives absolutely doat upon their children."[41] Innumerable facts might indeed be quoted to prove that parental affection is not a late product of civilisation, but a normal feature of the savage mind as it is known to us.[42] [Footnote 28: King and Fitzroy, _op. cit._ ii. 155. _Cf._ _ibid._ ii. 154; Musters, _At Home with the Patagonians_, p. 196 _sq._] [Footnote 29: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 50 _sq._] [Footnote 30: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 402; iii. 155. _Idem_, _Recollections of Squatting in Victoria_, p. 252. Angas, _Savage Life and Scenes in Australia_, i. 94. Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, i. 51; ii. 311. Ridley, _Aborigines of Australia_, p. 23. Eyre, _Journals of Expeditions of Discovery into Central Australia_, ii. 214 _sq._ Sturt, _Expedition into Central Australia_, ii. 137. Calvert, _Aborigines of Western Australia_, p. 30 _sq._ Taplin, 'Narrinyeri,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 15. Gason, 'Manners and Customs of the Dieyerie Tribe,' _ibid._ p. 258. Hill and Thornton, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, pp. 2, 4. Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, pp. 2, 44. Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 193.] [Footnote 31: Fison and Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 189. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 259.] [Footnote 32: Bailey, 'Wild Tribes of the Veddahs of Ceylon,' in _Trans. Ethn. Soc._ N.S. ii. 291. Deschamps, _Carnet d'un voyageur au pays des Veddas_, p. 380.] [Footnote 33: King and Fitzroy, _op. cit._ i. 76; ii. 186. Weddell, _Voyage towards the South Pole_, p. 156. Pertuiset, _Le Trésor des Incas à la Terre de Feu_, p. 217.] [Footnote 34: Williams and Calvert, _Fiji and the Fijians_, p. 116.] [Footnote 35: Seemann, _Viti_, p. 193. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 194.] [Footnote 36: Ward, _Five Years with the Congo Cannibals_, p. 141. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 139.] [Footnote 37: Carver, _op. cit._ p. 240 _sq._ _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 378 _sq._] [Footnote 38: Murdoch, 'Ethnological Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 417.] [Footnote 39: Hall, _Arctic Researches_, p. 568. Parry, _Second Voyage for the Discovery of a North-West Passage_, p. 529. Boas, 'Central Eskimo,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ vi. 566. Turner, 'Ethnology of the Ungava District,' _ibid._ xi. 191. Seemann, _Voyage of "Herald,"_ ii. 65. Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 174.] [Footnote 40: Veniaminof, quoted by Dall, _Alaska_, p. 397. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 393; Petroff, 'Report on Alaska,' in _Tenth Census of the United States_, p. 158.] [Footnote 41: Hooper, _Ten Months among the Tents of the Tuski_, p. 201.] [Footnote 42: Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, ii. 214 _sq._ Wied-Neuwied, _Reise nach Brasilien_, ii. 40 (Botocudos). Wallace, _Travels on the Amazon_, p. 518 _sq._ (Amazon Indians; but on the Brazilian Indians generally, _cf._ von Martius, in _Jour. Roy. Geo. Soc._ ii. 198, and _Idem_, _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 125). Im Thurn, _Among the Indians of Guiana_, pp. 213, 219. MacCauley, 'Seminole Indians of Florida,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ v. 491. Dunbar, 'Pawnee Indians,' in **_Magazine of American History_, viii. 745. Catlin, _North American Indians_, ii. 242. Ten Kate, _Reizen en onderzoekingen in Noord-Amerika_, p. 364 _sq._ Sproat, _Scenes and Studies of Savage Life_, p. 160 (Ahts). Franklin, _Journey to the Shores of the Polar Sea_, p. 68 (Crees). Elliott, 'Report on the Seal Islands,' in _Tenth Census of the United States_, p. 238. Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, p. 232 (Koriaks). Georgi, _Russia_, i. 25 (Laplanders); iii. 13 (Tunguses), 158 (Kamchadales). Castrén, _Nordiska resor och forskningar_, ii. 121 (Ostyaks). Prejevalsky, _Mongolia_, i. 71. Scott Robertson, _Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 189. Blunt, _Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates_, ii. 214. Dalton, _Desiriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 68 (Garos). Marshall, _A Phrenologist amongst the Todas_, p. 200; Shortt, 'Hill Tribes of the Neilgherries,' in _Trans. Ethn. Soc._ N.S. vii. 254 (Todas). Kloss, _In the Andamans and Nicobars_, p. 228 (Nicobarese). Man, _Sonthalia and the Sonthals_, p. 78. Wallace, _Malay Archipelago_, p. 450 (Malays). Schwaner, _op. cit._ i. 162 (Malays of the Barito River Basin in Borneo). Low, _Sarawak_, p. 148 (Malays). Bock, _Head-Hunters of Borneo_, p. 210 (Dyaks). Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak and British North Borneo_, i. 68 (Land Dyaks). Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 321 (natives of Timor-laut). Forbes, _Insulinde_, p. 182 (natives of Ritobel) Seligmann, in _Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_, v. 199; Haddon, _ibid._ v. 229, 274 (Western Islands). Romilly, _From my Verandah in New Guinea_, p. 51. Chalmers, _Pioneering in New Guinea_, p. 163. Christian, _Caroline Islands_, p. 72 (Ponapeans). Kubary, 'Die Bewohner der Mortlock Inseln,' in _Mittheilungen der Geogr. Gesellsch. in Hamburg_, 1878-9, p. 261. Macdonald, _Oceana_, p. 195 (Efatese). Turner, _Samoa_, p. 317 (natives of Tana), von Kotzebue, _Voyage of Discovery_, iii. 165 (Natives of Radack). Mariner, _op. cit._ ii. 179 (Tongans). Dieffenbach, _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 26, 107; Crozet, _Voyage to Tasmania_, p. 66 (Maoris). Dove, 'Aborigines of Tasmania,' in _Tasmanian Journal of Natural Science_, i. 252. Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 245 (Equatorial Africans). Casati, _Ten Years in Equatoria_, i. 186 (Central African Negroes). Caillié, _Travels through Central Africa_, i. 352 (Mandingoes). Holub, _Seven Years in South Africa_, ii. 296 (Marutse). Livingstone, _Missionary Travels_, p. 126 (Bechuanas). Johnston, _Uganda Protectorate_, ii. 539 (Pigmies). Sparrman, _Voyage to the Cape of Good Hope_, i. 219 (Hottentots). Shaw, 'Betsileo Country and People,' in _Antananarivo Annual and Madagascar Magazine_, iii. 82. See also _supra_, p. 405; Steinmetz, 'Verhältnis zwischen Eltern und Kindern bei den Naturvölkern,' in _Zeitschrift für Socialwissenschaft_, i. 610 _sqq._; _Idem_, _Ethnologische Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, ii. ch. vi. §2.] {532} When dealing with the origin of the altruistic sentiment we shall find reason to believe that paternal affection not only prevails among existing men, savage and civilised, but that it belonged to the human race from the very beginning, and that the same was the case with the germ of marital affection, inducing the male to remain with the female till after the birth or the offspring, and to defend and support her during the periods of pregnancy and motherhood. It is true that among several savage peoples conjugal love is said to be unknown; but what is meant by this is, I think, typically expressed in Major Ellis's statement referring to some Gold Coast natives, that among them "love, as understood by the people of Europe, has no existence."[43] The love of a savage is certainly very different from the love of a civilised man; nevertheless we may discover in it traces of the same ingredients. Even rude savages, such as the Bushmans, Fuegians, Andaman Islanders, and Australian aborigines, seem often to be lovingly attached to their wives.[44] [Footnote 43: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 285. I have dealt with this subject in my _History of Human Marriage_, p. 356 _sqq._] [Footnote 44: _Ibid._ p. 358 _sq._] {533} The prevalence of paternal and marital affection accounts for the origin of the family (consisting of parents and children), and for the functions of the man as father and husband. The growing intensity of these sentiments has naturally increased the stability of the family tie; and other factors, of a selfish nature, have contributed towards the same result. From various points of view it is desirable for a man to have children. They are to him objects of pride; when grown-up, they add to his safety and power; they support him when he gets old; they make offerings to his spirit when he is dead. And no less useful is the possession of a wife. When the generative power is no longer restricted to a certain season of the year, she becomes a lasting cause of sensual delight; she is a mother of children; she manages the household; she acts as a carrier, she works in the field. Every social institution has a tendency to become a matter of moral concern because of the persistence of habit. But the simplest paternal and marital duties have a deeper foundation than the mere force of the habitual. If a man leaves his wife and children without protection and support, the other members of the community will sympathise with them, and feel resentment towards the neglectful husband and father. He will be looked upon as the cause of their sufferings, because he omitted to do what other men in his position would have done. His conduct will be repulsive to everyone who himself possesses those sentiments of which he proves destitute. He will be held guilty of a breach of contract, since by marrying he took upon himself the burden of maintaining his wife and their common offspring. To thoughtful minds his responsibility towards his children is further increased by the fact that he is the author of their being, and for that reason the source of their misery. Finally, the community as a whole will suffer by his negligence. The parents' duty of taking care of their offspring lasts until the latter are able to shift for themselves. On the other hand, when the parents, in their turn, get in need of {534} support, their care is to be reciprocated by the children. The practice of killing or abandoning decrepit parents is an exception even in the savage world, and, as we have seen, restricted to extreme cases in which it may be regarded as an act of kindness or of hard necessity. There are always savage peoples among whom aged parents, though suffered to live, are said to be grossly neglected by their children. But, so far as I know, these peoples are not numerous, and can hardly be regarded as representatives of a custom common to any larger ethnic group. Thus, according to Hearne, "old age is the greatest calamity that can befall a Northern Indian; for when he is past labour, he is neglected, and treated with great disrespect, even by his own children. They not only serve him last at meals, but generally give him the coarsest and worst of the victuals; and such of the skins as they do not chuse to wear, are made up in the clumsiest manner into clothing for their aged parents."[45] Yet among the same people Richardson witnessed "several unquestionable instances of tenderness and affection shown by children to their parents, and of compliance with their whims, much to their own personal inconvenience."[46] In his work on the tribes of California Mr. Powers observes:--"filial piety cannot be said to be a distinguishing quality of the Wailakki, or, in fact, of any Indians. No matter how high may be their station, the aged and decrepit are counted a burden. The old man, hero of a hundred battles, sometime 'lord of the lion heart and eagle eye,' when his fading eyesight no more can guide the winged arrow as of yore, is ignominiously compelled to accompany his sons into the forest, and bear home on his poor old shoulders the game they have killed."[47] But concerning the Indians of Upper California Beechey writes, "When any of their relations are indisposed, the greatest attention is paid to their wants, and it was remarked by Padre Arroyo that filial affection is stronger in these tribes than in any civilised nation on the globe with which he was acquainted."[48] Among the Indians on the east side of the Rocky Mountains, "the aged are commonly treated with much respect, which they consider themselves as entitled to claim"; and they "are not suffered to want any thing which they need, and which {535} it is in the power of their relations to procure for them."[49] The religious teachers of the Iroquois inculcated the duty of protecting aged parents, as divinely enjoined:--"It is the will of the Great Spirit that you reverence the aged, even though they be as helpless as infants."[50] The Aleuts described by Veniaminof considered disregard of one's parents to be the greatest and most dishonourable of crimes; "we should sincerely love them," they said, "do all we could toward their support, remain with them, and care for them until their death."[51] The children of the Central Eskimo are very dutiful, obeying the wishes of their parents and taking care of them in their old age;[52] and statements to the same effect are made with reference to other Eskimo tribes.[53] Cranz, who did not generally panegyrise the moral qualities of the Greenlanders, wrote that the bonds of filial and parental love seem stronger in them than amongst other nations, and that "ingratitude in up-grown children towards their old decrepit parents, is scarcely exemplified among them."[54] Among the Botocudos Prince Wied-Neuwied saw a young man carrying about his blind father, not leaving him alone for a single moment.[55] Among the Fuegians "grown-up children are expected to support their parents when they become aged; the son generally makes his father, if he is past work, a canoe every season, and if the aged man is a widower he lives entirely under the charge of his eldest son."[56] The Australian natives are much praised for the regard with which they treat their parents and elders. With reference to the Western tribes, Bishop Salvado observes:--"Les fils adultes payent de retour l'affection de leurs parents. S'ils sont vieux, ils réservent pour eux les meilleurs pièces de gibier, ou de tout autre mets, et se chargent de venger leurs offenses."[57] Among the Kukis of India, "when past work, the father and mother are supported by their children."[58] Among the Bódo and Dhimáls "it is {536} deemed shameful to leave old parents entirely alone; and the last of the sons, who by his departure does so, is liable to fine as well as disinheritance."[59] Among the Betsileo of Madagascar "the old are never left destitute or to their own devices. . . . It is by no means uncommon to see the son carrying the aged parent on his back, when necessity or inclination demands locomotion."[60] Among the Mandingoes "the aged who are unable to support themselves are always maintained and treated with respect by their children."[61] That uncivilised races commonly regard it a stringent duty for children to maintain their aged parents and to administer to their wants, is also obvious from statements testifying their filial regard in general terms.[62] On the other hand, the fact that some peoples are said to be deficient in this sentiment, does not imply that they fail to recognise the simple duty of supporting old and helpless parents. [Footnote 45: Hearne, _Journey to the Northern Ocean_, p. 345 _sq._] [Footnote 46: Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, ii. 17.] [Footnote 47: Powers, _op. cit._ p. 118 _sq._] [Footnote 48: Beechey, _Voyage to the Pacific and Behring's Strait_, ii. 402.] [Footnote 49: Harmon, _Voyages and Travels in the Interior of North America_, p. 348.] [Footnote 50: Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 171.] [Footnote 51: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _loc. cit._ p. 155.] [Footnote 52: Boas, 'Central Eskimo,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ vi. 566.] [Footnote 53: Murdoch, 'Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 417. Turner, 'Ungava District,' _ibid._ xi. 191.] [Footnote 54: Cranz, _op. cit._ i. 174, 150. _Cf._ Egede, _Description of Greenland_, p. 147; Holm, 'Ethnologisk Skizze af Angmagsalikerne,' in _Meddelelser om Grönland_, x. 93.] [Footnote 55: Wied-Neuwied, _op. cit._ ii. 40.] [Footnote 56: Bridges, 'Manners and Customs of the Firelanders,' in _A Voice for South America_, xiii. 206.] [Footnote 57: Salvado, _Mémoires historiques sur l'Australie_, p. 277. _Cf._ Curr, _The Australian Race_, iii. 155; Gason, 'Dieyerie Tribe,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 258; Mathew, 'Australian Aborigines,' in _Jour. & Proceed. Roy. Soc. N. S. Wales_, xxiii. 388.] [Footnote 58: Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, p. 256.] [Footnote 59: Hodgson, _Miscellaneous Essays_, i. 123.] [Footnote 60: Shaw, in _Antananarivo Annual_, iii. 82.] [Footnote 61: Caillié, _op. cit._ i. 352.] [Footnote 62: See _infra_, on the Subjection of Children.] At a higher stage of civilisation reverence for parents reaches its pitch, and the duty of maintaining them in their old age is taken for a matter of course. Among the present Hindus "it would certainly be regarded as a most disgraceful thing were a man who could do anything for the support of an aged father or mother to allow the burden of their maintenance to fall on strangers";[63] and it is common for unmarried soldiers to stint themselves almost to starvation point, that they may send home money to their parents.[64] The priesthood of modern Buddhism teach that children shall "respect their parents, and perform all kinds of offices for them, even though they should have servants whom they could command to do all that they require."[65] At ancient Athens, before a man could become a magistrate, evidence was to be produced that he had treated his parents properly; and a person who refused his parents food and dwelling lost his right of speaking in the national assembly.[66] According to {537} the Icelandic Grágás, a man should maintain in the first place his mother, in the second his father, in the third his own children.[67] The Talmud enjoins the duty of maintaining parents;[68] and so does Muhammedan law, "if the parents are both poor and lastingly infirm, or both poor and insane."[69] [Footnote 63: Wilkins, _Modern Hinduism_, p. 418.] [Footnote 64: Monier Williams, _Indian Wisdom_, p. 440, n. 1.] [Footnote 65: Hardy, _op. cit._ p. 494. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 495.] [Footnote 66: Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 144.] [Footnote 67: _Grágás_, Omaga-balkr, 1, vol. i. 232.] [Footnote 68: Katz, _Der wahre Talmudjude_, p. 119.] [Footnote 69: Sachau, _op. cit._ p. 17 _sq._] Christianity, as will be shown, in one essential point changed the notions of antiquity regarding children's duties towards their parents: it made these duties subordinate to men's duties towards God. "Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake, and the gospel's, but he shall receive an hundredfold now in this time, houses, and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal life."[70] There are numerous legends and lives of saints in which the desertion of the nearest relations is recorded as one of the leading features of their sanctity, and as one of their chief titles to honour.[71] Some Catholic writers were of opinion that a man might lawfully abandon his parents, even though they could not be supported without him, and enter religion, committing the care of them to God. But Thomas Aquinas says that this would be tempting God, adding however that he who has already professed religion "ought not, on any plea of supporting his parents, to quit the cloister in which he is buried with Christ, and entangle himself again in worldly business."[72] Yet our duties towards our parents come next to our duties towards God. We ought to aid them when in want, and to supplicate God in their behalf that they may lead prosperous and happy lives.[73] [Footnote 70: _St. Mark_, x. 29 _sq._] [Footnote 71: _Cf._ Farrer, _Paganism and Christianity_, p. 196.] [Footnote 72: Thomas Aquinas, _Summa Theologica_, ii.-ii. 101. 4.] [Footnote 73: _Catechism of the Council of Trent_, iii. 5. 10 _sq._] The duty of supporting aged parents has its root in {538} the sentiments of affection, gratitude, and regard, and, to some extent, in superstitious fear. However feeble they be, the parents have in their hands a powerful weapon--the curse; or, when they are dead, their ghosts may avenge their wrongs on their neglectful children. All these circumstances will be discussed in the chapter dealing with the subjection of children. We have further to consider the duty of assisting brothers and sisters and more distant relatives. Among the Aleuts, says Veniaminof, a brother "must always aid his brother in war as well as in the chase, and each protect the other; but if anybody, disregarding this natural law, should go to live apart, caring only for himself, such a one should be discarded by his relatives in case of attack by enemies or animals, or in time of storms; and such dishonourable conduct would lead to general contempt."[74] Among the Point Barrow Eskimo "the older children take very good care of the smaller ones";[75] and of the Sia Indians (Pueblos) we are told that "a marked trait is their loving kindness and care for younger brothers and sisters."[76] Dr. Schweinfurth writes:--"Notwithstanding . . . that certain instances may be alleged which seem to demonstrate that the character of the Dinka is unfeeling, these cases never refer to such as are bound by the ties of kindred. Parents do not desert their children, nor are brothers faithless to brothers, but are ever prompt to render whatever aid is possible."[77] I presume that these examples of fraternal relations may, on the whole, be regarded as expressive of universal facts. According to Confucius, the love which brother should bear to brother is second only to that which is due from children to parents.[78] [Footnote 74: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _loc. cit._ p. 155.] [Footnote 75: Murdoch, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 417.] [Footnote 76: Stevenson, 'Sia,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xi. 22.] [Footnote 77: Schweinfurth, _Heart of Africa_, i. 169.] [Footnote 78: Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 123.] The duty of assisting more distant relatives is much more variable. It may be said that, as a general rule, among {539} savages and barbarians--with the exception, perhaps, of those who live in small family-groups--as also among the peoples of archaic culture, this duty is more prominent and extends further than amongst ourselves. The blood-tie has much greater strength, related families keep more closely together for mutual protection and aid. The Angmagsaliks of Eastern Greenland, says Lieutenant Holm, consider that the tie of blood imposes mutual assistance as a duty under all circumstances.[79] The Omahas maintain that "generosity cannot be exercised toward kindred, who have a natural right to our assistance."[80] Among the natives of Madagascar "the claims of relationship are distinctly recognised by custom and law. If one branch of a family becomes poor, the members of the same family support him; if he be sold into slavery for debt, they often unite in furnishing the price of his redemption. . . . The laws facilitate and encourage, and sometimes even enforce, such acts of kindness."[81] In his description of the Australian Bangerang, Mr. Curr observes, "Though their ways were different from ours, it always seemed to me that the bonds of friendship between blood relations were stronger, as a rule, with savages than amongst ourselves."[82] Among the Philippine Islanders "families are very united, and claims for help and protection are admitted, however distant the relationship may be."[83] Of the Burmans it is said, "No people can be more careful in preserving and acknowledging the bonds of family relationship to the remotest degrees, and not merely as a matter of form, but as involving the duty of mutual assistance."[84] Among the ancient Hindus, Persians, Greeks, and Romans, persons belonging to the four generations of near relatives--the Sapindas, Syngeneis, Anchisteis, or Propinqui--were expected to assist {540} each other whenever it was needed.[85] The Scandinavians considered him to be a bad man who did not help his kindred against strangers, even though there was enmity between the relatives.[86] [Footnote 79: Holm, in _Meddelelser om Grönland_, x. 87.] [Footnote 80: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 274.] [Footnote 81: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 138. _Cf._ Sibree, _The Great African Island_, p. 256 _sq._] [Footnote 82: Curr, _Recollections of Squatting in Victoria_, p. 274.] [Footnote 83: Foreman, _Philippine Islands_, p. 186.] [Footnote 84: Forbes, _British Burma_, p. 59.] [Footnote 85: Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Civile_, i. 47 _sqq._, 231 _sqq._] [Footnote 86: Rosenberg, _Nordboernes Aandsliv_, i. 488.] But the duty of helping the needy and protecting those in danger goes beyond the limits of the family and the _kin_. Uncivilised peoples are, as a rule, described as kind towards members of their own community or tribe. Between themselves charity is enjoined as a duty, and generosity is praised as a virtue. Indeed, their customs regarding mutual aid are often much more stringent than our own. And this applies even to the lowest savages.[87] [Footnote 87: The prevalence of mutual aid in uncivilised communities has been duly emphasised by Prince Kropotkin, _Mutual Aid_, p. 76 _sqq._] "La disposition à la générosité," says M. Hyades, "est un trait charactéristique des Fuégiens. Ils aiment à partager ce qu'ils ont avec tous ceux qui les entourent."[88] Captain Weddell likewise speaks of "the philanthropic principle which these people exhibit towards one another."[89] Burchell tells us that the Bushmans, between themselves, "exercise the virtues of hospitality and generosity, often in an extraordinary degree."[90] The Veddahs of Ceylon are friendly towards each other, and ready to help a person in distress.[91] The Andamanese display much mutual affection in their social relations, and frequently make presents of the best that they possess. "Every care and consideration," says Mr. Man, "are paid by all classes to the very young, the weak, the aged, and the helpless, and these, being made special objects of interest and attention, invariably fare better in regard to the comforts and necessaries of daily life than any of the otherwise more fortunate members of the community."[92] The Australian natives are almost universally praised for their friendly behaviour towards persons {541} belonging to their own people.[93] Presents given to one of a group are speedily divided as far as possible among the rest, and when a black man has employment at a station he generally gives away most of his earnings to his comrades in the camp.[94] "Between the males of a tribe," says Mr. Curr, "there always exists a strong feeling of brotherhood, so that, come weal come woe, a man can always calculate on the aid, in danger, of every member of his tribe."[95] Regarding the Central Australian natives, Messrs. Spencer and Gillen observe that their treatment of one another "is marked on the whole by considerable kindness, that is, of course, in the case of members of friendly groups, with every now and then the perpetration of acts of cruelty."[96] Collins says that the aborigines about Botany Bay and Port Jackson "applauded acts of kindness and generosity, for of both these they were capable."[97] [Footnote 88: Hyades and Deniker, _Mission scientifique du Cap Horn_, vii. 243.] [Footnote 89: Weddell, _op. cit._ p. 168. According to other authorities, the Fuegians, though free from malevolence and cruelty, are not distinguished for active benevolence (Bridges, in _A Voice for South America_, xiii. 208, 213. Bove, _Patagonia_, pp. 133, 137. Lovisato, 'Appunti etnografici sulla Terra del Fuoco,' in _Cosmos di Guida Cora_, viii. 145, 151. _Cf._ also Hyades and Deniker, _op. cit._ vii. 238, 240, 243 _sq._).] [Footnote 90: Burchell, _Travels in the Interior of Southern Africa_, ii. 54.] [Footnote 91: Sarasin, _Ergebnisse naturwissenschaftlicher Forschungen auf Ceylon_, iii. 545, 550. Schmidt, _Ceylon_, p. 276.] [Footnote 92: Man, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 93 _sq._ _Cf._ Portman, _ibid._ xxv. 368.] [Footnote 93: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 49. Hodgson, _Reminiscences of Australia_, p. 88. Oldfield, 'Aborigines of Australia,' in _Trans. Ethn. Soc._ N.S. iii. 226. Eyre, _op. cit._ ii. 385 _sq._ Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ ii. 279. Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 176. Mathew, in _Jour. & Proceed. Roy. Soc. N.S. Wales_, xxiii. 387 _sq._ Breton, _Excursions in New South Wales_, p. 218. Fison and Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 259. Wyatt, 'Manners and Superstitions of the Adelaide and Encounter Bay Aboriginal Tribes,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 162. Schuermann, 'Aboriginal Tribes of Port Lincoln,' _ibid._ pp. 243, 244, 247.] [Footnote 94: Schuermann, _loc. cit._ p. 244. Ridley, _Kámilarói_, p. 158. Fison and Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 256. Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, pp. 199, 343. Stirling, _Report of the Horn Expedition to Central Australia. Part IV. Anthropology_, p. 36.] [Footnote 95: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 62.] [Footnote 96: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 50.] [Footnote 97: Collins, _English Colony in New South Wales_, i. 549.] Passing to savages and barbarians who have reached a somewhat higher level of culture:--We are told by Mr. Catlin, with reference to the North American Indians, that, "to their friends, there are no people on earth that are more kind."[98] According to Adair, "they are very kind and liberal to every one of their own tribe, even to the last morsel of food they enjoy"; Nature's school "teaches them the plain easy rule, 'do to others, as you would be done by.'"[99] Harmon praises the generosity of the Indians:--"They are more ready, in proportion to their means, to assist a neighbour who may be in want, than the inhabitants, generally, of civilised countries. An Indian rarely kills an animal, without sending a part of it to a neighbour if he has one near him."[100] The Naudowessies "supply the deficiency of their friends with any superfluity of their own," and "in dangers they readily give assistance to those of their band {542} who stand in need of it, without any expectation of return."[101] Among the Iroquois "kindness to the orphan, hospitality to all, and a common brotherhood, were among the doctrines held up for acceptance by their religious instructors"; an Iroquois "would surrender his dinner to feed the hungry, vacate his bed to refresh the weary, and give up his apparel to clothe the naked."[102] Among the Omahas grades of merit or bravery were of two sorts: to the first class belonged such as had given to the poor on many occasions, and had invited guests to many feasts. To the second class belonged those who, besides having done these things many times, had killed several of the foe, and had brought home many horses. When a person sees a poor man or woman, they said, he should make presents to the unfortunate being; thus he can gain the goodwill of Wakanda as well as that of his own people.[103] The Ahts of Vancouver Island succour any one in need of help, without looking for any ulterior benefit.[104] The Aleuts were instructed to be kind to others and to refrain from selfishness; it was the custom for the successful hunter or fisher, particularly in times of scarcity, to share his prize with all, not only taking no larger share, but often less than the others.[105] Among the Eskimo about Behring Strait, whenever a successful trader accumulates property and food, and is known to work solely for his own welfare, he becomes an object of enmity and hatred among his fellow-villagers, which ends in one of two ways--the villagers may compel him to make a feast and distribute his goods, or they may kill him and divide his property among themselves.[106] According to the Greenland creed, all those who had striven and suffered for the benefit of their fellow-men should find a happy existence after death in the abodes of the supreme being, Tornarsuk.[107] "The Greenlander," says Dr. Nansen, "is the most compassionate of creatures with regard to his neighbour. His first social law is to help others."[108] Captain Hall holds an equally favourable opinion of those Eskimo with whom he came in contact. "As between themselves," he says, "there can be no people exceeding them in this virtue kindness of heart. Take, for instance, times of great scarcity of food. If one family happens to have any provisions on {543} hand, these are shared with all their neighbours. If one man is successful in capturing a seal, though his family may need it all to save them from the pangs of hunger, yet the whole of his people about, including the poor, the widow, the fatherless, are at once invited to a seal-feast."[109] They believe that all Innuits who have been good, "that is, who have been kind to the poor and hungry," will after death go to Koodleparmiung, or heaven, whereas those who have been bad, "that is, unkind to one another," will go to Adleparmeun, or hell.[110] Many of the South American peoples are praised for their kind disposition of mind;[111] the Guiana Indians seemed to a Christian missionary to be "generous to a fault."[112] The Caribs had all their interests in common, lived in great harmony, and loved each other heartily.[113] [Footnote 98: Catlin, _North American Indians_, ii. 241.] [Footnote 99: Adair, _History of the American Indians_, pp. 431, 429.] [Footnote 100: Harmon, _op. cit._ p. 349.] [Footnote 101: Carver, _op. cit._ p. 247.] [Footnote 102: Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, pp. 172, 329.] [Footnote 103: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 333, 274. _Cf._ _Idem_, 'Siouan Sociology,' _ibid._ xv. 232 (Kansas).] [Footnote 104: Sproat, _op. cit._ p. 166.] [Footnote 105: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _loc. cit._ p. 155, and Dall, _Alaska_, p. 392.] [Footnote 106: Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 305.] [Footnote 107: Rink, _Greenland_, p. 141.] [Footnote 108: Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 304. _Cf._ _ibid._ ii. 334; Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, pp. 116, 177; Egede, _op. cit._ pp. 123, 126 _sq._] [Footnote 109: Hall, _Arctic Researches_, p. 567.] [Footnote 110: _Ibid._ p. 571 _sq._] [Footnote 111: von Martius, _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 217, 641 (Guarayos, Macusis). Musters, _op. cit._ p. 195 (Patagonians).] [Footnote 112: Brett, _Indian Tribes of Guiana_, p. 276.] [Footnote 113: de Poircy-Rochefort, _Histoire naturelle et morale des Iles Antilles_, p. 460.] Among the Tonga Islanders the sentiment of humanity, or a fellow-feeling for one another, is universally approved. They "are not only not selfish, but admire liberality, and are practically liberal." When any one is about to eat, he always shares what he has with those about him without any hesitation, and not to do so would be considered exceedingly vile and selfish. So, also, "if one chief sees something in the possession of another, which he has a strong desire to have, he has only to ask him for it, and in all probability it is readily and liberally given."[114] Not even the Fijians, who took great pains to instil into the minds of their youth a contempt for compassionate impulses and an admiration for relentless cruelty,[115] were destitute of humanity and friendly feelings.[116] In Aneiteum, of the New Hebrides, the people believed that the sin which would be visited with the severest punishment in the land of the dead was stinginess or niggardliness in giving away food, and that the virtue which received the highest reward was a generous hospitality and a giving liberally at feasts.[117] In Tana, another island belonging to the same group, "one man has only to ask anything from his neighbours, and he gets it."[118] Of the New Caledonians Mr. Atkinson states that, among themselves, they are "of a generosity that seems to arise mainly from aversion to refuse any request."[119] The Dyaks are described as hospitable, {544} kindly, and humane, "to a degree which well might shame ourselves";[120] whilst the practice of head-hunting is carried on by every tribe at the expense of its neighbour, the members of each community have strong feelings of sympathy for each other.[121] Among the Sea Dyaks, says Grassland, "if any are sick or unable to work, the rest help; and there seems to me a much stronger bond of union amongst them than I have ever seen among the labouring classes in England."[122] [Footnote 114: Mariner, _op. cit._ ii. 153, 154, 165.] [Footnote 115: Erskine, _Cruise among the Islands of the Western Pacific_, p. 247.] [Footnote 116: _Ibid._ pp. 247, 273. Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ pp. 93, 115 _sq._ Seemann, _Viti_, p. 192.] [Footnote 117: Inglis, _In the New Hebrides_, p. 31.] [Footnote 118: Campbell, _A Year in the New Hebrides_, p. 169.] [Footnote 119: Atkinson, in _Folk-Lore_, xiv. 248.] [Footnote 120: Boyle, _Adventures among the Dyaks of Borneo_, p. 215.] [Footnote 121: Bock, _Head-Hunters of Borneo_, p. 210 _sq._ Brooke, _Ten Years in Saráwak_, i. 57.] [Footnote 122: Crossland, quoted by Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, i. 85.] The Santals are gentle and very obliging, and sociable to a fault among their own people.[123] The Hos "are charitable to those deserving aid."[124] The Todas believe that, after death, the souls of good people will have enjoyment in heaven, whilst the souls of bad people will suffer punishment; "a good man is, in the Toda estimation, one who is given to deeds of charity, and a bad man one who is uncharitable (this in order of precedence), quarrelsome, thieving, &c."[125] Mr. Batchelor states that "a more kind, gentle, and sympathetic people than the Ainos of Japan would be very difficult to find"; anything given to them they always divide with their friends.[126] The Samoyedes are ready to share their last morsel with their companions; and it is said that nobody can surpass the poor Ostyak in benevolence and other virtues of the heart.[127] "The finest trait in the character of a Bedouin (next to good faith)," Burckhardt observes, "is his kindness, benevolence, and charity. . . . Among themselves, the Bedouins constitute a nation of brothers; often quarrelling, it must be owned, with each other, but ever ready, when at peace, to give mutual assistance."[128] Generosity is a virtue which always commands particular respect in the desert.[129] The Arabs of the Soudan have a saying that "you must always put other people's things on your head, and your own under your arm. Then, if there be danger of the things falling off your head, you must raise your arm, and let fall your own things to save those of others."[130] [Footnote 123: Man, _Sonthalia_, p. 19 _sq._ Hunter, _Annals of Rural Bengal_, i. 215.] [Footnote 124: Tickell, 'Memoir on the Hodésum,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, ix. (pt. ii.) 807.] [Footnote 125: Thurston, 'Todas of the Nilgiris,' in the Madras Government Museum's _Bulletin_, i. 166 _sq._] [Footnote 126: Batchelor, _Ainu of Japan_, p. 19. Holland, 'Ainos,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ iii. 235.] [Footnote 127: Castrén, _op. cit._ i. 238; ii. 55.] [Footnote 128: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 208.] [Footnote 129: Wallin, _Reseanteckningar från Orienten_, iii. 244. Blunt, _Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates_, ii. 224.] [Footnote 130: Richardson, _Mission to Central Africa_, i. 117.] {545} The Barea are a benevolent people, kind even to strangers.[131] The Manganja, in the neighbourhood of Lake Nyassa, "are generous in the distribution of food," and even when starving they share the last morsel with their friends.[132] Sir H. Johnston says that he has never met with "a more kindly, sensible, considerate set of beings" than the Wa-taveita.[133] The Eastern Central Africans, the Rev. D. Macdonald observes, "are not mere animals composed of greed and selfishness. They often shew great bravery and devotedness. I can point to one man who saved my life on three separate occasions at the risk of his own."[134] Among the Bechuanas a regard for the poor, for widows, and for orphans, is everywhere considered to be a sacred duty.[135] Among all the virtues the Basutos appreciate none more than kindness. They have a saying that "one link only sounds because of another"--which implies that we cannot do without the help of our fellow-creatures,--and another saying that "one does not skin one's game without showing it to one's friends"--that is, when we have been successful in our undertakings, it becomes us to be generous. If any food is brought to them while they are in each other's society, however small may be the quantity, every one must have a taste.[136] The Kafirs are a kindly race; Lichtenstein says that "whenever anyone kills an ox he must invite all his neighbours to partake of it, and they remain his guests till the whole is eaten."[137] Of the Hottentots Kolben states:--"They are certainly the most friendly, the most liberal, and the most benevolent people to one another that ever appear'd upon earth . . . . They are charmed with opportunities of obliging each other, and one of their greatest pleasures lies in interchanging gifts and good offices."[138] "A Hottentot," says Barrow, "would share his last morsel with his companions."[139] Drury wrote of the people of Madagascar:--"They certainly treat one another with more humanity than we do. Here is no one miserable, if it is in the power of his neighbours to help him. Here is love, tenderness, and generosity which might {546} shame us; and . . . . this is . . . . all over the island."[140] Ellis likewise observes that, in Madagascar, assisting in distress, and lending and borrowing property and money, are carried on much more commonly and freely than amongst neighbours or relatives in England, and that a kindness of heart in these things is always esteemed excellent.[141] [Footnote 131: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 534.] [Footnote 132: Rowley, _Africa Unveiled_, p. 47.] [Footnote 133: Johnston, _Kilima-njaro Expedition_, p. 436.] [Footnote 134: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 270, 266.] [Footnote 135: Arbousset and Daumas, _Exploratory Tour to the North-East of the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope_, p. 402.] [Footnote 136: Casalis, _Basutos_, pp. 206, 207, 301, 306, 309 _sqq._] [Footnote 137: Leslie, _Among the Zulus and Amatongas_, p. 203. Lichtenstein, _Travels in Southern Africa_, i. 272.] [Footnote 138: Kolben, _Present State of the Cape of Good Hope_, i. 334 _sq._ _Cf._ _ibid._ i. 167.] [Footnote 139: Barrow, _Travels into the Interior of Southern Africa_, i. 151.] [Footnote 140: Drury, _Adventures during Fifteen Years' Captivity on the Island of Madagascar_, p. 172 _sq._] [Footnote 141: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 139. For other African instances, see Mungo Park, _Travels in the Interior of Africa_, p. 17 (Mandingoes); Burton, _Abeokuta_, i. 303 (Yoruba); _Idem_, _Two Trips to Gorilla Land_, i. 106 (Mpongwe); Monrad, _Guinea-Kysten og dens Indbyggere_, p. 7; Johnston, _River Congo_, p. 423 (races of the Upper Congo); Wilson and Felkin, _op. cit._ i. 225 (Waganda).] Among many savages the old people, in particular, have a claim to support and assistance, not only from their own children or relatives, but from the younger members of the community generally. Among the Australian natives the old men get the best and largest share of everything, and are allowed to monopolise the youngest and best-looking women, whilst a young man must consider himself fortunate if he can get an old woman for wife.[142] Among the Tonga Islanders "every aged man and woman enjoys the attentions and services of the younger branches of society."[143] In the Kingsmill Islands "generosity, hospitality, and attention to the aged and infirm are virtues highly esteemed and generally practised among all the natives."[144] Among the Kafirs, when persons advanced in years become sick and helpless, "everyone is eager to afford them assistance."[145] In the opinion of the Aleuts, "feeble old men must be respected and attended when they need aid, and the young and strong should give them a share of their booty and help them through all their troubles, endeavouring to obtain in exchange their good advice only."[146] [Footnote 142: Eyre, _op. cit._ ii. 385 _sq._ Mathew, in _Jour. & Proceed. Roy. Soc. N.S. Wales_, xxiii. 407. Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 163. _Cf._ Grey, _Journals of Two Expeditions of Discovery in North-West and Western Australia_, ii. 248; Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ i. 138; Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 51.] [Footnote 143: Mariner, _op. cit._ ii. 155.] [Footnote 144: Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 95.] [Footnote 145: Lichtenstein, _op. cit._ i. 265.] [Footnote 146: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _loc. cit._ p. 155.] The sick, also, are often very carefully attended to. Among the coast tribes of British Columbia Mr. Duncan "always found one or two nurses to an invalid, if the case was {547} at all bad; the sympathy of the nurses, too, seemed very great."[147] Beechey says of the wild Indians of Upper California:--"The very great care taken of all those who are affected with any disease ought not to be allowed to escape a remark. When any of their relations are indisposed, the greatest attention is paid to their wants."[148] Keating noticed the kind and humane treatment which the Potawatomis extended even to the idiots.[149] The Koriaks "carefully attend those who are sick."[150] The same is said of the Ainos of Japan,[151] and the Tagbanuas of the Philippine Islands.[152] In Sarawak no relative is abandoned because an injury or illness may have incapacitated him for work.[153] When a Dyak is ill at home, the women nurse the patient in turn.[154] In Samoa "the treatment of the sick was invariably humane."[155] In Tana,[156] Humphrey's Island,[157] Erromanga,[158] and Tasmania,[159] they were likewise kindly attended to; and the same is the case at least among many of the Australian tribes.[160] Concerning the aborigines of Herbert River, in Northern Queensland, Lumholtz writes:--"The natives are very kind and sympathetic towards those who are ill, and they carry them from camp to camp. This is the only noble trait I discovered in the Australian natives."[161] In various parts of Australia the blind, and especially the aged blind, are carefully tended; travellers on the northern coast of the continent have noticed that these are generally the fattest of the company, being supplied with the best of everything.[162] "No trait in the character of the Malagasy," says Ellis, "is more creditable to their humanity, and more gratifying to our benevolent feelings, than the kind, patient, and affectionate manner in which they attend upon the sick."[163] A similar praise is bestowed upon the {548} Mandingoes[164] and Kafirs.[165] Among the Zulus, says Mr. J. Tyler, "work, however important, is at once suspended that they may help their afflicted friends."[166] [Footnote 147: Duncan, quoted by Mayne, _Four Years in British Columbia_, p. 292 _sq._] [Footnote 148: Beechey, _op. cit._ ii. 402.] [Footnote 149: Keating, _Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River_, i. 100.] [Footnote 150: Krasheninnikoff, _op. cit._ p. 233.] [Footnote 151: von Siebold, _Die Aino auf der Insel Yesso_, p. 11.] [Footnote 152: Worcester, _Philippine Islands_, p. 494.] [Footnote 153: St. John, _Life in the Forests of the Far East_, ii. 323.] [Footnote 154: Bock, _Head-Hunters of Borneo_, p. 211.] [Footnote 155: Turner, _Samoa_, p. 141. _Cf._ Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, p. 146.] [Footnote 156: Turner, _Samoa_, p. 323.] [Footnote 157: _Ibid._ p. 276.] [Footnote 158: Robertson, _Erromanga_, p. 399.] [Footnote 159: Ling Roth, _Aborigines of Tasmania_, p. 47. Bonwick, _Daily Life and Origin of the Tasmanians_, p. 10.] [Footnote 160: Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ ii. 284 (West Australian natives). Schuermann, 'Aboriginal Tribes of Port Lincoln,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 225.] [Footnote 161: Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 183.] [Footnote 162: Ridley, _Kámilarói_, p. 169. Eyre, _op. cit._ ii. 382 Barrington, _History of New South Wales_, p. 23. Stirling, _op. cit._ p. 36.] [Footnote 163: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 231 _sq._] [Footnote 164: Caillié, _op. cit._ i. 354.] [Footnote 165: Lichtenstein, _op. cit._ i. 266.] [Footnote 166: Tyler, _Forty Years among the Zulus_, p. 195.] Whilst the information which I have been able to gather on the social customs of uncivilised races seems to indicate that, in the majority of cases, mutual kindness and goodwill prevail within their communities, there are not wanting statements of a different character. But these statements are, after all, exceptional, and some of them are either ambiguous or obviously inexact. Only too often travellers represent to us the savage, not as he is in his daily life amidst his own people, but as he behaves towards his enemy, or towards a stranger who enters his country uninvited. As an experienced observer remarks, "the savage, passionate and furious with the feeling of revenge, slaughtering and devouring his enemy and drinking his blood, is no longer the same being as when cultivating his fields in peace; and it would be as unjust to estimate his general character by his actions in these moments of unrestrained passion, as to judge of Europeans by the excesses of an excited soldiery or an infuriated mob."[167] Moreover, many accounts of savages date from a period when they have already been affected by contact with a "higher culture," as we call it, a culture which almost universally has proved to exercise a deteriorating influence on the character of the lower races. Among the North American Indians, for instance, "there was more good-will, hospitality, and charity, practised towards one another" before white people came and resided among them;[168] whereas contact with civilisation has made them "false, suspicious, avaricious and hard-hearted."[169] As has been truly said, "search modern history, and in the North {549} and South and East and West the story is ever the same--we come, we civilise, and we corrupt or exterminate."[170] [Footnote 167: Dieffenbach, _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 130 _sq._] [Footnote 168: Warren, in Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, ii. 139.] [Footnote 169: Domenech, _Seven Years' Residence in the Great Deserts of North America_, ii. 69.] [Footnote 170: Boyle, _op. cit._ p. 108.] Among the semi-civilised and civilised nations charity has universally been regarded as a duty, and has often been strenuously enjoined by their religions. When Spain and Peru first came into contact, the Americans surpassed the Spaniards in brotherly love and systematic care for the needy. They had a poor-law according to which the blind, lame, aged, and infirm, who could not till their own lands so as to clothe and feed themselves, should receive sustenance from the public stores.[171] The ancient Mexicans, according to Clavigero, seemed to give without reluctance what had cost them the utmost labour to acquire.[172] "The great virtue of the Coreans is their innate respect for and daily practice of the laws of human brotherhood. Mutual assistance and generous hospitality among themselves are distinctive national traits."[173] According to Chinese law, "all poor destitute widowers and widows, the fatherless and childless, the helpless and the infirm, shall receive sufficient maintenance and protection from the magistrates of their native city or district, whenever they have neither relations nor connections upon whom they can depend for support."[174] "Benevolence," said Confucius, "is more to man than either water or fire."[175] To assist the needy, to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to succour the sick, to save men in danger--these and similar acts of kindness are, according to Chinese beliefs, merits which will be rewarded by the unseen powers that watch human conduct, whereas the uncharitable and parsimonious are threatened with divine punishments.[176] In a book of Buddhistic-Confucian flavour, {550} as familiar to the youth of Japan as the Sermon on the Mount is to us, it is said, "Above all things, men must practise charity; it is by almsgiving that wisdom is fed."[177] According to the Dhammapada, "the uncharitable do not go to the world of the gods; fools only do not praise liberality; a wise man rejoices in liberality, and through it becomes blessed in the other world."[178] Indeed, in the didactic poetry of Buddhism the virtue of beneficence occupies the most prominent place; without any regard to what is the measure of the real benefit thereby extended to the recipient of the gift, the legends set before us as a duty the most unbounded generosity, pushed even to the extreme of self-destruction.[179] And in its conception of charity and liberality, as in all other points of worldly morality, Buddhism does not differ from the standard recognised in India since ancient times.[180] Already in the Vedic hymns praise is bestowed on those who from their abundance willingly dispense to the needy, on those who do not turn away from the hungry, on those who are kind to the poor.[181] In the Hitopadesa it is said that the good man shows pity even to the worthless, as the moon does not withdraw its light even from a member of the lowest caste.[182] The sacred law-books of India are full of prescriptions enjoining almsgiving as a duty on all twice-born men.[183] "A householder must give as much food as he is able to spare to those who do not cook for themselves, and to all beings one must distribute food without detriment to one's own interest."[184] The student "should always without sloth give alms out of whatever he has for food."[185] The Brâhmana who has completed his studentship should without tiring "perform works of {551} charity with faith."[186] Almsgiving confers merit on the giver, it frees him from guilt, it destroys sin;[187] "for whatever purpose a man bestows any gift, for that purpose he receives in his next birth with due honour its reward."[188] On the other hand, he who cooks for himself alone eats nothing but sin.[189] Speaking of the modern Hindus, Mr. Wilkins observes:--"The charity of the Hindus is great. . . . There is no poor-law in India, no guardians of the poor, no workhouses, excepting for the Europeans in the Presidency towns. The poor of a family, the halt, the lame, the blind, the weak, the insane, are provided for by their family, if it is at all able to do it; in cases where there are few or no relatives, then the burden is taken up by others. It is a 'work of merit.'"[190] [Footnote 171: Garcilasso de fa Vega, _First Part of the Royal Commentaries of the Yncas_, ii. 34.] [Footnote 172: Clavigero, _History of Mexico_, i. 81.] [Footnote 173: Griffis, _Corea_, p. 288.] [Footnote 174: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. lxxxix. p. 93. On the charitable institutions of the Chinese, see Staunton, _ibid._ p. 93 n. *; Smith, _Chinese Characteristics_, p. 186 _sq._] [Footnote 175: Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 109.] [Footnote 176: 'Merits and Errors Scrutinized,' in _Indo-Chinese Gleaner_, iii. 159, 161 _sqq._ _Thâi Shang_, 3. 'Divine Panorama,' in Giles, _Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio_, ii. 370, 371, 374, 379. Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, pp. 259, 272 _sq._ Davis, _China_, ii. 48. Edkins, _Religion in China_, p. 89 _sq._] [Footnote 177: Chamberlain, _Things Japanese_, p. 309.] [Footnote 178: _Dhammapada_, 177.] [Footnote 179: Oldenberg, _Buddha_, p. 301.] [Footnote 180: _Cf._ Kern, _Manual of Indian Buddhism_, p. 72.] [Footnote 181: _Rig-Veda_, x. 117. Kaegi, _Rigveda_, p. 18.] [Footnote 182: _Hitopadesa_, Mitralâbhâ, 63.] [Footnote 183: _Gautama_, v. 21; x. 1 _sq._ _Institutes of Vishnu_, lix. 28. _Baudhâyana_, ii. 7. 13. 5. _Laws of Manu_, ix. 333; x. 75, 79; xi. 1 _sqq._] [Footnote 184: _Laws of Manu_, iv. 32.] [Footnote 185: _Anugîtâ_, 31.] [Footnote 186: _Laws of Manu_, iv. 226. _Cf._ _ibid._ iv. 227.] [Footnote 187: _Institutes of Vishnu_, lix. 15, 30; ch. xc. _sqq._ _Gautama_, xix. 11, 16. _Vasishtha_, xx. 47; xxii. 8. _Laws of Manu_, iii. 95; iv. 229 _sqq._; xi. 228.] [Footnote 188: _Laws of Manu_, iv. 234.] [Footnote 189: _Institutes of Vishnu_, lxvii. 43. _Laws of Manu_, iii. 118. _Cf._ _Rig-Veda_, x. 117. 6.] [Footnote 190: Wilkins, _Modern Hinduism_, p. 416 _sq._] Of the ancient Persians Thucydides said that they preferred giving to receiving.[191] To be charitable towards the poor of their own faith was among them a religious duty of the first order.[192] Zoroaster thus addressed Vîshtâspa:--"Let no thought of Angra Mainyu ever infect thee, so that thou shouldst indulge in evil lusts, make derision and idolatry, and shut to the poor the door of thy house."[193] The holy Sraosha is the protector of the poor.[194] In the Shâyast it is said that the clothing of the soul in the next world is formed out of almsgiving.[195] [Footnote 191: Thucydides, ii. 97. 4.] [Footnote 192: See Geiger, _Civilization of the Eastern Ir[=a]nians_, i. 164 _sqq._; Mills, in _Sacred Books of the East_, xxxi. p. xxii.] [Footnote 193: _Yasts_, xxiv. 37.] [Footnote 194: _Ibid._ xi. 3.] [Footnote 195: _Shâyast Lâ-Shâyast_, xii. 4. _Cf._ _Bundahis_, xxx. 28.] It seems that among the ancient Egyptians charity was considered no less meritorious.[196] "The god," M. Maspero observes, "does not confine his favour to the prosperous and the powerful of this world; he bestows it also upon {552} the poor. His will is that they be fed and clothed, and exempted from tasks beyond their strength; that they be not oppressed, and that unnecessary tears be spared them."[197] In the memorial inscriptions, where the dead plead their good deeds, charity is often referred to. "I harmed not a child," says one Egyptian, "I injured not a widow; there was neither beggar nor needy in my time; none were hungered, widows were cared for as though their husbands were still alive."[198] In the inscription in honour of a lady who had been charitable to persons of her own sex, whether girls, wives, or widows, it is said, "The god rewarded me for this, rejoicing me with the happiness which he has granted me for walking after his way."[199] [Footnote 196: Brugsch, _History of Egypt under the Pharaohs_, i. 29 _sq._ Tiele, _History of the Egyptian Religion_, p. 226 _sq._ Renouf, _Hibbert Lectures on the Religion of Egypt_, p. 72 _sqq._ Amélineau, _L'évolution des idées morales dans l'Égypt Ancienne_, pp. 145, 354.] [Footnote 197: Maspero, _Dawn of Civilization_, p. 191. _Cf._ Schiapparelli, _Del sentimento religioso degli antichi egiziani_, p. 18; Amélineau, _op. cit._ p. 268.] [Footnote 198: Wiedemann, _Religion of the Ancient Egyptians_, p. 253.] [Footnote 199: Renouf, _op. cit._ p. 75.] Charity was urgently insisted upon by the religious law of the Hebrews.[200] "Thou shalt open thine hand wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy, in thy land"; "for this thing the Lord thy God shall bless thee in all thy works, and in all that thou puttest thine hand unto."[201] Even "if thine enemy be hungry, give him bread to eat; and if he be thirsty, give him water to drink: . . . the Lord shall reward thee."[202] Especially in the Old Testament Apocrypha and in Rabbinical literature almsgiving assumed an excessive prominence--so much so that the word which in the older writings means "righteousness" in general, came to be used for almsgiving in particular.[203] "Shut up alms in thy storehouses: and it shall deliver thee from all affliction."[204] "As water will quench a flaming fire, so alms maketh an atonement for sins."[205] "For alms doth deliver from death, and shall purge away all sin. Those that exercise alms and {553} righteousness shall be filled with life."[206] The charitable man is rewarded with the birth of male issue.[207] Almsgiving is equal in value to all other commandments.[208] He who averts his eyes from charity commits a sin equal to idolatry.[209] To such an extreme was almsgiving carried on by the Jews, that some Rabbis at length decreed that no man should give above a fifth part of his goods in charity.[210] [Footnote 200: _Deuteronomy_, xiv. 29; xv. 7 _sqq._; xvi. 11, 14. _Leviticus_, xix. 9 _sq._; xxv. 35.] [Footnote 201: _Deuteronomy_, xv. 11, 10.] [Footnote 202: _Proverbs_, xxv. 21 _sq._] [Footnote 203: Addis, 'Alms,' in _Encyclopædia Biblica_, i. 118. _Cf._ Montefiore, _Hibbert Lectures on the Religion of the Ancient Hebrews_, p. 484 _sq._] [Footnote 204: _Ecclesiasticus_, xxix. 12.] [Footnote 205: _Ibid._ iii. 30.] [Footnote 206: _Tobit_, xii. 9. _Cf._ _ibid._ i. 3, 16; ii. 14; iv. 7 _sqq._; xii. 8.] [Footnote 207: _Bava Bathra_, fol. 10 B, quoted by Hershon, _Treasures of the Talmud_, p. 24.] [Footnote 208: Rab Assi, quoted by Kohler, 'Alms,' in _Jewish Encyclopedia_, i. 435.] [Footnote 209: _Kethuboth_, fol. 68 A, quoted by Katz, _Der wahre Talmudjude_, p. 36.] [Footnote 210: Katz, _op. cit._ p. 42.] Almsgiving, prayer, and fasting were the three cardinal disciplines which the synagogue transmitted to both the Christian Church and the Muhammedan mosque.[211] According to Islam, the duty next in importance to prayer is that of giving alms.[212] Muhammed repeatedly announces that the path which leads to God is the helping of the orphans and the relieving of the poor.[213] "Ye cannot attain to righteousness until ye expend in alms of what ye love."[214] "Those who expend their wealth by night and day, secretly and openly, they shall have their hire with their lord."[215] It is said that "prayer carries us half-way to God, fasting brings us to the door of His palace, and alms procure us admission."[216] Certain alms, called Zakât, are prescribed by law; it is an indispensable duty for every Muhammedan of full age to bestow in charity about one-fortieth of all such property as has been a year in his possession, provided that he has sufficient for his subsistence and has an income equivalent to about £5 per annum.[217] Other charitable gifts are voluntary, and confer merit upon the giver. [Footnote 211: _Cf._ _Tobit_, xii. 8; Kohler, in _Jewish Encyclopedia_, i. 435.] [Footnote 212: See Sale's 'Preliminary Discourse,' in Wherry, _Commentary on the Qurán_, i. 172; Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 105.] [Footnote 213: _Koran_, ii. 267, 269, 275; viii. 42; ix. 60; xc. 12, 14 _sq._; xciii. 6 _sqq._; &c.] [Footnote 214: _Ibid._ iii. 86.] [Footnote 215: _Ibid._ ii. 275] [Footnote 216: Sell, _Faith of Islám_, p. 284.] [Footnote 217: _Ibid._ p. 283. Palmer, 'Introduction' to his translation of _The Qur'án_, i. p. lxxiii. Ameer Ali, _Life and Teaching of Mohammed_, p. 268.] By Christianity charity of the religious type which we {554} find in the East was introduced into Europe. We have certainly no reason to blame the ancient Greeks and Romans for neglecting their poor. Among them slavery in a great measure replaced pauperism; and what slavery did for the very poor, the Roman system of clientage did for those of a somewhat higher rank.[218] Moreover, the relief of the indigent was an important function of the State.[219] The Areopagus provided public works for the poor.[220] At Rome gratuitous distribution of corn was the rule for many centuries;[221] agrarian laws furnished free homesteads to the landless, on conquered or public territory;[222] since the days of Nerva a systematic support of poor children was enjoined in all the cities of Italy.[223] A few examples of private charity, also, have descended to us already from early times, such as Epaminondas collecting dowers for poor girls,[224] and Cimon feeding and clothing the poor;[225] and from the days of the Pagan Empire there are recorded several cases of individual beneficence. Charitable bequests are alluded to in the burial inscriptions; when some great catastrophe happened, relief was willingly given to the sufferers; private infirmaries were established for slaves.[226] The duty of charity was forcibly enjoined by some of the moralists. The wise man, says Seneca, "will dry the tears of others, but will not mingle his own with them; he will stretch out his hand to the shipwrecked mariner, will offer hospitality to the exile, and alms to the needy."[227] But his alms are not thrown away by chance; his purse will open easily, but never leak. He will choose out the worthiest with the utmost care, and never give without sufficient reason; for unwise gifts must be reckoned among foolish extravagances.[228] So also Cicero, {555} whilst styling beneficence and liberality "virtues that are the most agreeable to the nature of man," is anxious to warn his readers against imprudence in practising them, "lest our kindness should hurt both those whom it is meant to assist, and others."[229] [Footnote 218: See Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 73.] [Footnote 219: Boissier, _Religion Romaine_, ii. 206.] [Footnote 220: Farrer, _Paganism and Christianity_, p. 183.] [Footnote 221: Naudet, 'Des secours publics chez les Romains,' in _Mémoires de l'Académie des inscriptions et belles-lettres_, xiii. 43 _sq._] [Footnote 222: _Ibid._ p. 71 _sq._] [Footnote 223: Aurelius Victor, _Epitome_, xii. 8.] [Footnote 224: Cornelius Nepos, _Epaminondas_, 3.] [Footnote 225: Plutarch, _Cimon_, 10.] [Footnote 226: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 77 _sq._ Boissier, _op. cit._ ii. 213 _sq._ Farrer, _Paganism and Christianity_, p. 182.] [Footnote 227: Seneca, _De clementia_, ii. 6.] [Footnote 228: _Idem_, _De vita beata_, 23 _sq._] [Footnote 229: Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 14 _sq._] In a very different light was charity viewed by the Christians. Unlimited open-handedness became a cardinal virtue. An ideal Christian was he who did what Jesus commanded the young man to do: who went and sold what he had and gave it to the poor.[230] Promiscuous almsgiving was enjoined as a duty:--"Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away."[231] The discharge of this duty was even more profitable to the giver than to the receiver. There is perhaps no precept in the Gospel to which a promise of recompense is so frequently annexed as to that concerning charity. Eternal life is promised to those who feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, take in the stranger, clothe the naked, visit the sick.[232] Charity was regarded as an atonement. "God," says St. Augustine, "is to be propitiated through alms for sins past";[233] and countless times is the thought expressed, that almsgiving is a safe investment of money at good interest with God in heaven.[234] Cyprian, who is the father of the Romish doctrine of good works, establishes an arithmetical relation between the number of alms-offerings and the blotting out of sins.[235] "The food of the needy," says Leo the Great, "is the purchase-money of the kingdom of heaven."[236] "As long as the market lasts," says St. Chrysostom, "let us buy alms, or rather let us purchase salvation through alms."[237] The rich man is only a debtor; all that he possesses beyond {556} what is necessary, belongs to the poor, and ought to be given away.[238] The poor, no longer looked down upon, became instruments of salvation. To them was given the first place in the Church and in the Christian community. St. Chrysostom says of them, "As fountains flow near the place of prayer that the hands that are about to be raised to heaven may be washed, so were the poor placed by our fathers near to the door of the Church, that our hands might be consecrated by benevolence before they are raised to God."[239] Gregory the Great announces, and the Middle Ages re-echo, "The poor are not to be lightly esteemed and despised, but to be honoured as patrons."[240] Thus it happened that even in the darkest periods, when all other Christian virtues were nearly extinct, charity survived unimpaired.[241] Later on Protestantism, by denying the atoning effect of good deeds, deprived charity of a great deal of its religious attraction. And in modern times the enlightened opinion on the subject, recognising the demoralising influence of indiscriminate almsgiving, rather agrees with the principles laid down by Cicero and Seneca, than with the literal interpretation of the injunctions of Christ. [Footnote 230: _Cf._ _Acts_, ii. 45.] [Footnote 231: _St. Matthew_, v. 42. _Cf._ _St. Luke_, vi. 30.] [Footnote 232: _St. Matthew_, xxv. 34 _sqq._] [Footnote 233: St. Augustine, _Enchiridion_, 70 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, xl. 265).] [Footnote 234: See Uhlhorn, _Die christliche Liebesthätigkeit_, i. 270.] [Footnote 235: Cyprian, _De opere et eleemosynis_, 24 (Migne, _op. cit._ iv. 620). _Cf._ Harnack, _History of Dogma_, ii. 134, n. 2.] [Footnote 236: Leo Magnus, _Sermo X., de Collectis_, 5 (Migne, _op. cit._ liv. 165 _sq._).] [Footnote 237: St. Chrysostom, _Homilia VII., de P[oe]nitentia_ (Migne, _op. cit._ Ser. Graeca, xlix. _sq._ 333).] [Footnote 238: Uhlhorn, _op. cit._ p. 294 _sq._] [Footnote 239: St. Chrysostom, _De verbis Apostoli, Habentes eumdem spiritum_, iii. 11 (Migne, _op. cit._ Ser. Graeca, li. _sq._ 300).] [Footnote 240: Quoted by Uhlhorn, _op. cit._ i. 315.] [Footnote 241: _Cf._ Milman, _History of Latin Christianity_, ix. 33 _sq._] In the course of progressing civilisation the obligation of assisting the needy has been extended to wider and wider circles of men. The charity and generosity which savages require as a duty or praise as a virtue have, broadly speaking, reference only to members of the same community or tribe. Kindness towards foreigners is looked upon in a very different light. "The virtues of the Negroes," Monrad observes, "are entirely restricted to their own tribe. The doing good to a stranger they would generally find ridiculous."[242] To the Greenlander a foreigner, especially if he be of another race, is "an indifferent object, whose welfare he has no interest in furthering."[243] {557} The Bedouin, says Doughty, "has two faces, this of gentle kindness at home, the other of wild misanthropy and his teeth set against the world besides."[244] At higher stages of civilisation the duty of charity embraces a wider group of people, in proportion to the largeness of the social unit or to the scope of the religion by which it is enjoined. But it is still more or less restrained by national or religious boundaries. M. Amélineau observes that the charity referred to on ancient Egyptian papyri is "la charité limitée à ceux de la même nation."[245] According to Zoroastrianism, charity should be restricted to the followers of the true religion; to succour an unbeliever would be like a strengthening of the dominion of Evil.[246] The Zakât, or legal alms of the Muhammedans, must not be given to a non-Muslim, because it is regarded as a fundamental part of worship;[247] similarly the [S.]adaqah, or offering on the feast-day known as [(]Idu'l-Fi[t.]r, is confined to true believers.[248] Nor has Christian charity always been free from religious narrowness. Fleury says that the early Christians, in the care they took of the poor, always preferred Christians before infidels, because "their principal regard was to their spiritual concerns, and to their temporal welfare only in order to their spiritual."[249] The principle of the Church was, "Omnem hominem _fidelem_ judica tuum esse fratrem."[250] In the seventeenth century the Scotch clergy taught that food or shelter must on no occasion be given to a starving man unless his opinions were orthodox.[251] On the other hand, Christianity of a higher type preaches charity towards all men; and so does advanced Judaism and Buddhism. It is said in the Talmud, with reference to the treatment of the poor, that no distinction should be made between such as are Jews and such as are not.[252] In modern times charity now and then {558} steps over the barriers of nationality even when the sufferers belong to distant nations. Whilst our indigent compatriots are generally recognised to have a greater claim on our pity than needy strangers, a great calamity in one country readily calls forth a charitable response in other nations. Mr. Pike believes that the contribution of one hundred thousand pounds sterling which England, in the year 1755, when Lisbon was laid in ruins by an earthquake, sent for the relief of the sufferers, inaugurated this new era of international charitableness. "Compassion." he observes, "was at last shown by Englishmen, not simply for Englishmen and Protestants, but for foreigners professing a different religion; pity, for once, triumphed over intolerance and national prejudice."[253] And in war, in the case of enemies rendered harmless by wounds or disease, the growth of human feeling has passed beyond the simple requirement that they shall not be killed or ill-used, and has cast upon belligerents the duty of tending them so far as is consistent with the primary duty to their own wounded.[254] However, it must not be imagined that this humane principle, which has only lately been recognised in Europe, is a unique outcome of Christian civilisation at its height. It is said in the Mahabharata that, when a quarrel arises among good men, a wounded enemy is to be cured in the conqueror's own country, or to be conveyed to his home.[255] Strangely enough, even from the savage world we hear of something like an anticipation of the Geneva Convention. Among certain tribes in New South Wales, as soon as the fight is concluded, "both parties seem perfectly reconciled, and jointly assist in tending the wounded men."[256] [Footnote 242: Monrad, _op. cit._ p. 4.] [Footnote 243: Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 159.] [Footnote 244: Doughty, _Arabia Deserta_, i. 368 _sq._] [Footnote 245: Amélineau, _op. cit._ p. 354.] [Footnote 246: Geiger, _op. cit._ i. 165.] [Footnote 247: Sell, _op. cit._ p. 284. _Cf._ _Koran_, ix. 60.] [Footnote 248: Sell, _op. cit._ p. 318.] [Footnote 249: Fleury, _Manners and Behaviour of the Christians_, p. 133 _sq._] [Footnote 250: Laurent, _Études sur l'histoire del'Humanité_, iv. 94.] [Footnote 251: Buckle, _History of Civilization in England_, iii. 277.] [Footnote 252: _Gitin_, fol. 61 A, quoted by Katz, _Der wahre Talmudjude_, p. 38. _Cf._ Chaikin, _Apologie des Juifs_, p. 10.] [Footnote 253: Pike, _History of Crime in England_, ii. 346.] [Footnote 254: 'Convention signed at Geneva, August 22, 1864, for the Amelioration of the Condition of the Wounded in Armies in the Field,' in Lorimer, _Institutes of the Law of Nations_, ii. Appendix no. vi. Hall, _Treatise on International **Law_, p. 399. Heffter, _Das Europäische Völkerrecht der Gegenwart_, § 126, p. 267, n. 5.] [Footnote 255: _Mahabharata_, xii. 3547, quoted by Lorimer, _op. cit._ ii. 431.] [Footnote 256: Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ i. 160.] {559} The gradual expansion of the duty of charity is due to the fact that this duty, in the first place, is based on the altruistic sentiment, and consequently follows the same general law of development. Many cases referred to above imply that savages are by no means strangers to affection, and that in their communities there is not only mutual assistance, but general kindness of heart. Numerous instances to the same effect might easily be added. When a Fuegian is very ill the near relatives show much grief;[257] and Darwin tells us that the Fuegian boy who was taken on board the _Beagle_ and brought to Europe, used to go to the sea-sick and say, in a plaintive voice, "Poor, poor fellow!"[258] The Veddahs are praised not only for their charitable behaviour towards each other, but for their natural tenderness of heart.[259] The aborigines of Victoria are said to "have the greatest love for their friends and relatives," and to testify the liveliest joy when a companion after a long absence returns to the camp.[260] Forster mentions an instance of affection among the natives of Tana, which, as he says, "strongly proves that the passions and innate quality of human nature are much the same in every climate."[261] Melville declares that, after passing a few weeks in the Typee valley of the Marquesas, he formed a higher estimate of human nature than he ever before entertained.[262] It can hardly be doubted that in every human society there is, normally, some degree of social affection between its members;[263] and it seems that the evolution of this sentiment in mankind has been much more in the direction of greater extensiveness than of greater intensity. [Footnote 257: Bridges, in _A Voice for South America_, xiii. 206.] [Footnote 258: Darwin, _Journal of Researches_, p. 207.] [Footnote 259: Sarasin, _op. cit._ iii. 545, 550.] [Footnote 260: Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ i. 138.] [Footnote 261: Forster, _Voyage round the World_, ii. 325.] [Footnote 262: Melville, _Typee_, p. 297.] [Footnote 263: See _infra_, on the Origin and Development of the Altruistic Sentiment.] Where the members of a group have affection for each other, mutual aid will be regarded as a duty both because it will be practised habitually, and because a {560} failure to afford it will call forth sympathetic resentment on behalf of the sufferer, But we need, here again, to look below the surface. Men may be induced to do good to their fellow-creatures not only by kindly feelings towards them, but by egoistic motives; and such motives, through having a share in making beneficence a tribal habit, at the same time influence the moral estimation in which it is held. The Basutos say that "the knife that is lent does not return alone to its master"--a kindness is never thrown away.[264] Of the Asiniboin, a Siouan tribe, Mr. Dorsey states that "nothing is given except with a view to a gift in return."[265] When the Andaman Islanders make presents of the best that they possess, they tacitly understand that an equivalent should be rendered for every gift.[266] Among the Makololo "the rich show kindness to the poor, in expectation of services."[267] In his description of the Greenlanders, Dr. Nansen observes that all the small communities depend for their existence on the law of mutual assistance, on the principle of common suffering and common enjoyment. "A hard life has taught the Eskimo that even if he is a skilful hunter and can, as a rule, manage to hold his own well enough, there may come times when, without the help of his fellows, he would have to succumb. It is better, therefore, for him to help in his turn."[268] That similar considerations largely lie at the bottom of the custom of mutual aid and charity both in uncivilised and more advanced communities, we may assume from the experience of human nature which we have acquired at home. And such motives must be particularly active in a society the members of which are so dependent on each other's services and return-services, as is generally the case with a horde of savages. [Footnote 264: Casalis, _op. cit._ p. 310.] [Footnote 265: Dorsey, 'Siouan Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xv. 225 _sq._] [Footnote 266: Man, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 95.] [Footnote 267: Livingstone, _Missionary Travels_, p. 511.] [Footnote 268: Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 304 _sq._ _Cf._ Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 173; Parry, _op. cit._ p. 525.] Moreover, by niggardliness a person may expose himself {561} to supernatural dangers, whereas liberality may entail supernatural reward. In Morocco nobody would like to eat in the presence of other people without sharing his meal with them; otherwise they might poison his food by looking at it with an evil eye. So also, if anybody shows a great liking for a thing belonging to you, wanting, for instance, to buy your gun or your horse, it is best to let him have it, since otherwise an accident is likely to happen to the object of his desire.[269] But baneful energy, what the Moors call _l-bas_, is transferable not only by the eye, but by the voice. The poor and the needy have thus in their hands a powerful weapon and means of retaliation, the curse. The ancient Greeks believed that the beggar had his Erinys,[270] his avenging demon, which was obviously only a personification of his curse.[271] It is said in the Proverbs, "He that giveth unto the poor shall not lack: but he that hideth his eyes shall have many a curse."[272] The same idea is expressed in Ecclesiasticus:--"Turn not away thine eye from the needy, and give him none occasion to curse thee: for if he curse thee in the bitterness of his soul, his prayer shall be heard of him that made him. . . . A prayer out of a poor man's mouth reacheth to the ears of God, and his judgment cometh speedily."[273] According to the Zoroastrian Yasts, the poor man who follows the good law, when wronged and deprived of his rights, invokes Mithra for help, with hands uplifted.[274] Mr. Chapman states that, "though the Damaras are, generally speaking, great gluttons, they would not think of eating in the presence of any of their tribe without sharing their meal with all comers, for fear of being visited by a curse from their 'Omu-kuru' [or deity], and becoming impoverished."[275] There is all reason {562} to suppose that in this case the curse of the deity was originally the curse, or evil wish, of an angry man. [Footnote 269: Similar beliefs prevail in modern Egypt (Klunzinger, _Upper Egypt_, p. 391).] [Footnote 270: _Odyssey_, xvii. 475.] [Footnote 271: _Supra_, p. 60.] [Footnote 272: _Proverbs_, xxviii. 27.] [Footnote 273: _Ecclesiasticus_, iv. 5 _sq._; xxi. 5. _Cf._ _Deuteronomy_, xv. 9. Rabbi Johanan says that almsgiving "saves man from sudden, unnatural death" (Kohler, in _Jewish Encyclopedia_, i. 435). _Cf._ _Proverbs_, x. 2.] [Footnote 274: _Yasts_, x. 84.] [Footnote 275: Chapman, _Travels in the Interior of South Africa_, i. 341.] A poor man is able not only to punish the uncharitable by means of his curses, but to reward the generous giver by means of his blessings. During my residence among the Andjra tribe in the mountains of Northern Morocco, our village was visited by a band of ambulant scribes who went from house to house, receiving presents and invoking blessings in return. When a goat was given them they asked God to increase the flocks of the giver, when money was given they asked God to increase his money, and so forth. Some of the villagers told me that it was a profitable bargain, since they would be tenfold repaid for their gifts through the blessings of the scribes. A town Moor who starts for a journey to the country generally likes to give a coin to one of the beggars who are sitting near the gate, so as to receive his blessings. It is said in Ecclesiasticus:--"Stretch thine hand unto the poor, that thy blessing may be perfected. A gift hath grace in the sight of every man living."[276] Whilst he that withholdeth corn shall be cursed by the people, "blessing shall be upon the head of him that selleth it."[277] Among the early Christians those who brought gifts for the poor were specially remembered in the prayers of the Church.[278] Of the Nay[=a]dis of Malabar Mr. Iyer says that the purport and object of their prayers are, among other things, "that all the superior castes, who give them alms, may enjoy long life and prosperity."[279] In various cases the nature of the rewards promised for charitable acts suggests that they are due to the blessings of the recipient. According to Vasishtha, "through liberality man obtains all his desires, even longevity."[280] In the Yasts it is said that the children of a charitable man will thrive.[281] According to Talmudic ideas, men acquire wealth for their children by {563} distributing alms among the poor.[282] Considering how widely spread is the belief in the efficacy of curses and blessings, there can be little doubt that charity and generosity are connected with this belief in many cases where no such connection has been noticed by the European visitor. [Footnote 276: _Ecclesiasticus_, vii. 32. _Cf._ _Proverbs_, xxii. 9.] [Footnote 277: _Proverbs_, xi. 26.] [Footnote 278: Uhlhorn, _op. cit._ i. 141.] [Footnote 279: Iyer, in the Madras Government Museum's _Bulletin_, iv. 72.] [Footnote 280: _Vasishtha_, xxix. 1 _sq._] [Footnote 281: _Yasts_, xxiv. 36.] [Footnote 282: Kohler, in _Jewish Encyclopedia_, i. 436. _Cf._ _Proverbs_, xxviii. 27.] The curses and blessings of the poor partly account for the fact that charity has come to be regarded as a religious duty. Originally, it is true, they had not the character of an appeal to a god, but were believed to possess a purely magical power, independent of any superhuman will. This belief is rooted in the close association between the wish, more particularly the spoken wish, and the idea of its fulfilment. The wish is looked upon in the light of energy which may be transferred--by material contact, or by the eye, or by means of speech--to the person concerned, and then becomes a fact. This process, however, is not taken quite as a matter of course; there is always some mystery about it. Hence the words of a holy man, a magician or priest, are considered more efficacious than those of ordinary mortals. The Australian natives believe that the curse of a potent magician will kill at the distance of a hundred miles. Among the Maoris "the anathema of a priest is regarded as a thunderbolt that an enemy cannot escape."[283] Among the Gallas no man will under any circumstances slay either a priest or a wizard, from a dread of his dying curse.[284] Some of the Rabbis maintained that a curse uttered by a scholar is unfailing in its effect, even if undeserved.[285] In Muhammedan countries the curses of saints or shereefs are particularly feared. According to the Laws of Manu, a Brâhmana "may punish his foes by his own power alone," speech being his weapon.[286] But though a curse may derive particular potency from the person who utters it, {564} it is by no means ineffective even in the mouth of an ordinary man.[287] In the Old Testament children are forbidden to curse their parents,[288] subjects their rulers,[289] men their god;[290] and according to Talmudic conceptions, a curse should not be regarded lightly however ignorant be the person who utters it.[291] All that is required is that the words should possess that supernatural quality which alone can bring about the result desired, and this quality may be inherent in the curse quite independently of the person who utters it. It is inherent in certain mystic formulas or spells and in the invocations of some spirit or god. The will of the invoked being is not considered at all; his name is simply brought in to give the curse that mystic efficacy which the plain word lacks. Thus both in the Old Testament[292] and in the Talmud[293] there are traces of the ancient idea that the name of the Lord might be used with advantage in any curse however undeserved. But with the deepening of the religious sentiment this idea had to be given up. A righteous and mighty god cannot agree to be a mere tool in the hand of a wicked curser. Hence the curse comes to be looked upon in the light of a prayer, which is not fulfilled if undeserved; as it is said in the Proverbs, "the curse causeless shall not come."[294] And the same is the case with the blessing. Whilst in ancient days Jacob could take away his brother's blessing by deceit,[295] the efficacy of a blessing was later on limited by moral considerations.[296] The Psalmist declares that only the offspring of the righteous can be blessed;[297] and according to the Apostolic Constitutions, "although a widow who eateth and is filled from the wicked, pray for them, she shall not be heard."[298] {565} On the other hand, curses and blessings, when well deserved, continued to draw down calamity or prosperity upon their objects, by inducing God to put them into effect; this idea prevails both in post-exilic Judaism and in Muhammedanism,[299] and underlies the Christian oath and benediction. The final, but not the original view was that, as an uncharitable man deserves to be punished and a charitable man merits reward, the curses and blessings of the poor will naturally be heard by a righteous God. "The Lord will plead their cause."[300] [Footnote 283: Polack, _Manners and Customs of the New Zealanders_, i. 248 _sq._] [Footnote 284: Harris, _Highlands of Æthiopia_, iii. 50.] [Footnote 285: _Makkoth_, fol. 11 A. _Berakhoth_, fol. 56 A.] [Footnote 286: _Laws of Manu_, xi. 32 _sq._] [Footnote 287: Taylor, _Te Ika a Maui_, p. 204 (Maoris). Wellhausen, _Reste arabischen Heidentums_, p. 139.] [Footnote 288: _Exodus_, xxi. 17. _Leviticus_, xx. 9. _Proverbs_, xx. 20; xxx. 11.] [Footnote 289: _Exodus_, xxii. 28. _Ecclesiastes_, x. 20.] [Footnote 290: _Exodus_, xxii. 28.] [Footnote 291: _Meghilla_, fol. 15 A.] [Footnote 292: _Supra_, p. 564.] [Footnote 293: _Makkoth_, fol. 11 A. _Berakhoth_, foll. 19 A, 56 A.] [Footnote 294: _Proverbs_, xxvi. 2.] [Footnote 295: _Genesis_, xxvii. 23 _sqq._] [Footnote 296: _Cf._ Cheyne, 'Blessings and Curses,' in _Encyclopædia Biblica_, i. 592.] [Footnote 297: _Psalms_, xxxvii. 26.] [Footnote 298: _Constitutiones Apostolicæ_, iv. 6. _Cf._ _Jeremiah_, vii. 16.] [Footnote 299: _Cf._ Cheyne, in _Encyclopædia Biblica_, i. 592; Goldziher, _Abhandlungen zur arabischen Philologie_, i. 29 _sqq._] [Footnote 300: _Proverbs_, xxii. 23.] The chief cause, however, of the extraordinary stress which the higher religions put on the duty of charity seems to lie in the connection between almsgiving and sacrifice. When food is offered as a tribute to a god, the god is supposed to enjoy its spiritual part only, whilst the substance of it is left behind and is eaten by the poor. And when the offering is continued in ceremonial survival in spite of the growing conviction that, after all, the deity does not need and cannot profit by it,[301] the poor become the natural heirs of the god, and the almsgiver inherits the merit of the sacrificer. The chief virtue of the act, then, lies in the self-abnegation of the donor, and its efficacy is measured by the "sacrifice" which it costs him. [Footnote 301: For such a survival, see Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, ii. 396 _sqq._] Many instances may be quoted of sacrificial food being left for the poor or being distributed among them. At Scillus, where Xenophon had built an altar and a temple to Artemis and a sacrifice was afterwards made every year, the goddess supplied the poor people living there in tents with "barley-meal, bread, wine, sweetmeats, and a share of the victims offered from the sacred pastures, and of those caught in hunting."[302] According to Yasna, sacrifices to Mazda were given to his poor.[303] In ancient Arabia the poor were allowed to partake of the meal-offering {566} which was laid before the god Uqaiçir.[304] In Zinder, in the Soudan, there are some trees, regarded as divine, to which annual offerings of bullocks, sheep, and so forth, are made, "though the poor of the country get the benefit of them."[305] In Morocco even animals which are killed as _[(]âr_--a sacrifice embodying a conditional curse--on departed saints or living people, with a view to compelling them to grant a request, are commonly eaten by the poor, though nobody else would dare to partake of them. [Footnote 302: Xenophon, _Anabasis_, v. 3. 9.] [Footnote 303: _Yasna_, xxxiv. 5.] [Footnote 304: Wellhausen, _Reste arabischen Heidentums_, p. 64. Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 223.] [Footnote 305: Richardson, _Mission to Central Africa_, ii. 259.] In other cases we find that almsgiving is itself regarded as a form of sacrifice, or takes the place of it. In the sacred books of India the two things are repeatedly mentioned side by side. "The householder offers sacrifices, the householder practises austerities, the householder distributes gifts."[306] Of a Brâhmana who has completed his studentship it is said, "Let him always practise, according to his ability, with a cheerful heart, the duty of liberality, both by sacrifices and by charitable works, if he finds a worthy recipient for his gifts."[307] "In the Krita age the chief virtue is declared to be the performance of austerities, in the Tretâ divine knowledge, in the Dvâpara the performance of sacrifices, in the Kali liberality alone."[308] In the Egyptian 'Book of the Dead' the soul, on approaching to the gods who are in the Tuat, pleads:--"I have done that which man prescribeth and that which pleaseth the gods. I have propitiated the god with that which he loveth. I have given bread to the hungry, water to the thirsty, clothes to the naked, a boat to the shipwrecked. I have made oblations to the gods and funeral offerings to the departed."[309] In the Zoroastrian prayer Ahuna-Vairya, to which great efficacy is ascribed, it is said, "He who relieves the poor makes Ahura king."[310] {567} In the Koran almsgiving is often mentioned in connection with prayer;[311] and the Zakât, or alms prescribed by law, is regarded by the Muhammedans as a fundamental part of their religion, hence infidels, who cannot perform acceptable worship, have nothing to do with these alms.[312] Among the Muhammedans of India it is common for men and women to vow "that when what they desire shall come to pass, they will, in the name of God, the Prophet, his companions, or some _wullee_, present offerings and oblations." One of these offerings, called "an offering unto God," consists in preparing particular victuals, and in "distributing them among friends and the poor, and giving any sort of grain, a sacrificed sheep, clothes, or ready-money in alms to the indigent."[313] When the destruction of the Temple with its altar filled the Jews with alarm as they thought of their unatoned sins, Johanan ben Zakkai comforted them by saying, "You have another means of atonement, as powerful as the altar, and that is the work of charity, for it is said: 'I desired mercy, and not sacrifice.'"[314] Many other passages show how closely the Jews associated almsgiving with sacrifice. "He that giveth alms sacrificeth praise."[315] "As sin-offering makes atonement for Israel, so alms for the Gentiles."[316] "Almsdeeds are more meritorious than all sacrifices."[317] An orphan is called an "altar to God."[318] And as a sacrificer should be a person of a godly character, so it is better to perish by famine than to receive an oblation from the ungodly.[319] Alms were systematically collected in the synagogues, and officers were appointed to make the collection.[320] So, also, among the early Christians the collection of alms for the relief of the poor was an act of the Church life itself. Almsgiving took place in public worship, nay formed itself a part of worship. {568} Gifts of natural produce, the so-called oblations, were connected with the celebration of the Lord's Supper. They were offered to God as the first-fruits of the creatures (_primitiæ creaturarum_), and a prayer was said:--"O Lord, accept also the offerings of those who to-day bring an offering, as Thou didst accept the offerings of righteous Abel, the offering of our father Abraham, the incense of Zachariah, the alms of Cornelius, and the two mites of the widow." These oblations were not only used for the Lord's Supper, but they formed the chief means for the relief of the poor. They were regarded as sacrifice in the most special sense; and, as no unclean gift might be laid upon the Lord's altar, profit made from sinful occupations was not accepted as an oblation, neither were the oblations of impenitent sinners.[321] The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews speaks of almsgiving as a sacrifice of thanksgiving which continues after the Jewish altar has been done away with.[322] Like sacrifice, almsgiving is connected with prayer, as a means of making the prayer efficacious and furnishing it with wings; the angel said to Cornelius, "Thy prayers and thine alms are come up for a memorial before God."[323] When the Christians were reproached for having no sacrifices, Justin wrote, "We have been taught that the only honour that is worthy of Him is not to consume by fire what He has brought into being for our sustenance, but to use it for ourselves and those who need."[324] So, also, Irenæus observes that sacrifices are not abolished in the New Testament, though their form is indeed altered, because they are no longer offered by slaves, but by freemen, of which just the oblations are the proof.[325] And God has enjoined on Christians this sacrifice of oblations, not because He needs them, but "in order that themselves {569} might be neither unfruitful nor ungrateful."[326] St. Augustine says, "The sacrifice of the Christians is the alms bestowed upon the poor."[327] [Footnote 306: _Institutes of Vishnu_, lix. 28.] [Footnote 307: _Laws of Manu_, iv. 227. _Cf._ _ibid._ iv. 226.] [Footnote 308: _Ibid._ i. 86.] [Footnote 309: _Book of the Dead_, 125, Renouf's translation, p. 217.] [Footnote 310: _Vendîdâd_, xix, 2.] [Footnote 311: _Koran_, ii. 40, 104; ix. 54.] [Footnote 312: Sell, _op. cit._ 284.] [Footnote 313: Jaffur Shureef, _Qanoon-e-Islam_, p. 179.] [Footnote 314: Kohler, in _Jewish Encyclopedia_, i. 467. _Hosea_, vi. 6.] [Footnote 315: _Ecclesiasticus_, xxxv. 2.] [Footnote 316: Quoted by Levy, _Neuhebräisches und Chaldäisches Wörterbuch_, iv. 173.] [Footnote 317: Quoted _ibid._ iv. 173.] [Footnote 318: _Constitutiones Apostolicæ_, iv. 3.] [Footnote 319: _Ibid._ iv. 8.] [Footnote 320: Addis, in _Encyclopædia Biblica_, i. 119.] [Footnote 321: Uhlhorn, _op. cit._ i. 135 _sqq._ Harnack, _History of Dogma_, i. 205.] [Footnote 322: _Hebrews_, xiii. 14 _sqq._ _Cf._ Addis, in _Encyclopædia Biblica_, i. 119.] [Footnote 323: _Act_, x. 4. Cyprian, _De opere et eleemosynis_, 4. St. Chrysostom, _Homilia VII., de P[oe]nitentia_, 6 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, Ser. Gr. xlix. _sq._ 332).] [Footnote 324: Justin, _Apologia I. pro Christianis_, 13.] [Footnote 325: Irenæus, _Adversus hæreses_, iv. 18. 82.] [Footnote 326: _Ibid._ iv. 17. 5.] [Footnote 327: St. Augustine, _Sermo XLII._ 1 (Migne, _op. cit._ xxxviii. 252).] The objection will perhaps be raised that I have here tried to trace back the most beautiful of all religious virtues to a magical and ritualistic origin without taking into due account the benevolent feelings attributed to the Deity. But in the present connection I have not had to show why charity, like other human duties, has been sanctioned by religious beliefs, but why, in the ethics of the higher religions, it has attained the same supreme importance as is otherwise attached only to devotional exercises. And this is certainly a problem by itself, for which the belief in a benevolent god affords no adequate explanation. That the religious duty of charity is not merely an outcome of the altruistic sentiment is well illustrated by the fact that Zoroastrianism, whilst exalting almsgiving to the rank of a cardinal virtue, at the same time excludes the sick man from the community of the faithful until he has been cured and cleansed according to prescribed rites.[328] [Footnote 328: Darmesteter, 'Introduction' to the Zend-Avesta, in _Sacred Books of the East_, iv. p. lxxx.] CHAPTER XXIV HOSPITALITY WE have seen that in early society regard for the life and physical well-being of a fellow-creature is, generally speaking, restricted to members of the social unit, whereas foreigners are subject to a very different treatment. But to this rule there are remarkable exceptions. Side by side with gross indifference or positive hatred to strangers we find, among the lower races, instances of great kindness displayed even towards persons of a foreign race. The Veddahs are ready to help any stranger in distress who asks for their assistance, and Sinhalese fugitives who have sought refuge in their wilds have always been kindly received.[1] Mr. Moffat was deeply affected by the sympathy which some poor Bushmans showed to him during an illness, although he was an utter stranger to them. Speaking of the mutual affection which the Andaman Islanders display in their social relations, Mr. Man adds that, "in their dealings with strangers, the same characteristic is observable when once a good understanding has been established."[2] We have also to remember the friendly manner in which the aborigines in various parts of the savage world behaved to the earliest European visitors. Nothing could be more courteous than the reception which Cook and his party met with in New Caledonia, where the natives guided and accompanied them on their {571} excursions. Forster says of the Society Islanders, "We should indeed be ungrateful if we did not acknowledge the kindness with which they always treated us."[3] De Clerque observes with reference to the Papuans on the north coast of New Guinea:--"The inhabitants seemed always ready to help. . . . On our visit to the village all the male and female inhabitants with their children flocked around me, and offered me cocoanuts and sugar-cane; which, for the first contact with Europeans, is certainly remarkable."[4] On the arrival of white people in various parts of Australia, the natives were not only inoffensive, but disposed to meet them on terms of amity and kindness.[5] "In a short intercourse," says Eyre, "they are easily made friends. . . . On many occasions where I have met these wanderers in the wild, far removed from the abodes of civilisation, and when I have been accompanied only by a single native boy, I have been received by them in the kindest and most friendly manner, had presents made to me of fish, kangaroo, or fruit, had them accompany me for miles to point out where water was to be procured, and been assisted by them in getting at it."[6] Nor must we forget the kind reception which Australian Blacks have given to men cast upon their mercy,[7] and the tenderness with which the natives of Cooper's Creek wept for the death of Burke and Wills, and comforted King, the survivor.[8] Unfortunately, native races have often received anything but favourable impressions from their earliest interviews with Europeans; and both in Australia and elsewhere prolonged intercourse with white people has, in many instances, induced them to change {572} their friendly behaviour into unkindness or hostility. The Canadian traders, for instance, when they first appeared among the Beaver and Rocky Mountain Indians, were treated by these people with the utmost hospitality and attention; but by their subsequent conduct they taught the natives to withdraw their respect, and sometimes to treat them with indignity.[9] Harmon writes, "I have always experienced the greatest hospitality and kindness among those Indians who have had the least intercourse with white people."[10] Many facts seem to verify the statement made by a missionary who speaks from forty years' experience among the natives of New Guinea and Polynesia, that our conduct towards savages determines their conduct towards us.[11] [Footnote 1: Sarasin, _Ergebnisse naturwissenschaftlicher Forschungen auf Ceylon_, iii. 544.] [Footnote 2: Man, 'Aboriginal Inhabitants of the Andaman Islands,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 93.] [Footnote 3: Forster, _Voyage Round the World_, ii. 157.] [Footnote 4: De Clerque, in _Glimpses of the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 14.] [Footnote 5: Breton, _Excursions in New South Wales_, p. 218. Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 64. Salvado, _Mémoires historiques sur l'Australie_, p. 340. Ridley, _Aborigines of Australia_, p. 24. Eyre, _Journals of Expeditions of Discovery into Central Australia_, ii. 212, 382.] [Footnote 6: Eyre, _op. cit._ ii. 211.] [Footnote 7: Mathew, 'Australian Aborigines,' in _Jour. & Proceed. Roy. Soc. N. S. Wales_, xxiii. 388. Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, ii. 229. Ridley, _Aborigines of Australia_, p. 22.] [Footnote 8: Jung, 'Aus dem Seelenleben der Australier,' in _Mittheilungen des Vereins für Erdkunde zu Leipzig_, 1877, p. 11 _sq._] [Footnote 9: Mackenzie, _Voyage to the Frozen and Pacific Ocean_, p. 149.] [Footnote 10: Harmon, _Journal of Voyages and Travels in the Interior of North America_, p. 315.] [Footnote 11: Murray, _Forty Years' Mission Work in Polynesia and New Guinea_, p. 499. For other instances of kindness displayed by savages towards white men, see von Kotzebue, _Voyage of Discovery into the South Sea_, iii. 174 (people of Radack); Yate, _Account of New Zealand_, p. 102 _sq._; Dieffenbach, _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 112; Keate, _Account of the Pelew Islands_, p. 329 _sq._; Earl, _Papuans_, p. 79 (natives of Port Dory, New Guinea); Sarytschew, 'Voyage of ** Discovery to the North-East of Siberia,' in _Collection of Modern and Contemporary Voyages and Travels_, vi. 78 (Aleuts); King and Fitzroy, _Voyages of the "Adventure" and "Beagle,"_ ii. 168, 174 (Patagonians); Wilson and Felkin, _Uganda_, i. 225.] The friendly reception which white men have met with in savage countries is closely connected with a custom which, as it seems, prevails universally among the lower races while in their native state,[12] as also among the {573} peoples of culture at the earlier stages of their civilisation[13] {574} --hospitality towards strangers. This custom presents several remarkable characteristics, which, to all appearance, ill agree with their tribal or national exclusiveness generally. The stranger is often welcomed with special marks of honour. The best seat is assigned to him; the best food at the host's disposal is set before {575} him; he takes precedence over all the members of the household; he enjoys extraordinary privileges. M. Hyades says of the Fuegians, "Quelque encombrée que soit une hutte, et si réduite que soit la quantité d'aliments dont on dispose, le nouvel arrivant est toujours assuré d'avoir une place près du foyer et une part de la nourriture."[14] The Mattoal of California, though they are sometimes heartlessly indifferent even to their parents, "will divide the last shred of dried salmon with any casual comer who has not a shadow of claim upon them, except the claim of that exaggerated and supererogatory hospitality that savages use."[15] A Creek Indian would not only receive into his house a traveller or sojourner of whatever nation or colour, but would treat him as a brother or as his own child, divide with him the last grain of corn or piece of flesh, and offer him the most valuable things in his possession.[16] Among the Arawaks, "when a stranger, and particularly an European, enters the house of an Indian, every thing is at his command."[17] Notwithstanding the Karen's suspicious nature, says Mr. Smeaton, his hospitality is unbounded. "He will entertain every stranger that comes, without asking a question. He feels himself disgraced if he does not receive all comers, and give them the very best cheer he has. The wildest Karen will receive a guest with a grace and dignity and entertain him with a lavish hospitality that would become a duke. Hundreds of their old legends inculcate the duty of receiving strangers without regard to pecuniary circumstances either of host or guest."[18] Among many uncivilised peoples it is customary for a man to offer even his wife, or one of his wives, to the stranger for the time he remains his guest.[19] The Bedouins of Nejd have a {576} saying that "the guest while in the house is its lord";[20] and in the Institutes of Vishnu we read that, as the Brâhmanas are lords over all other castes, and as a husband is lord over his wives, so the guest is the lord of his host.[21] [Footnote 12: Azara, _Voyages dans l'Amérique méridionale_, ii. 91 (Guanas). Southey, _History of Brazil_, i. 247 (Tupis). Davis, _El Gringo_, p. 421 (Pueblos). Lafitau, _M[oe]urs des sauvages amériquains_, i. 106; ii. 88. Heriot, _Travels through the Canadas_, p. 318 _sq._ Buchanan, _North American Indians_, p. 6. Perrot, _Mémoire sur les m[oe]urs, coustumes et relligion des sauvages de l'Amérique septentrionale_, pp. 69, 202. Neighbors, in Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, ii. 132 (Comanches). James, _Expedition from Pittsburgh to the Rocky Mountains_, i. 321 _sq._ (Omahas). Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 327 _sqq._; Loskiel, _History of the Mission of the United Brethren among the Indians in North America_, i. 15; Colden, in Schoolcraft, _op. cit._ iii. 190 (Iroquois). Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 183. Sproat, _Scenes and Studies of Savage Life_, p. 56 _sqq._ (Ahts). Boas, 'Report on the Indians of British Columbia,' in the _Report read at the Meeting of the British Association_, 1889, p. 36. Keating, _Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River_, i. 101 (Potawatomis); ii. 167 (Chippewas). Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, ii. 18 (Crees and Chippewas). _Idem_, in Franklin, _Journey to the Shores of the Polar Sea_, p. 66; Mackenzie, _Voyages to the Frozen and Pacific Oceans_, p. xcvi. (Crees). Dall, _Alaska_, p. 397; Sarytschew, _loc. cit._ vi. 78; Sauer, _Billing's Expedition to the Northern Parts of Russia_, p. 274 (Aleuts). Lyon, _Private Journal_, p. 349 _sq._; Parry, _Second Voyage for the Discovery of a North-West Passage_, p. 526 (Eskimo of Igloolik). Egede, _Description of Greenland_, p. 126; Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 172 _sq._; Kane, _Arctic Explorations_, ii. 122; Holm, 'Ethnologisk Skizze af Angmagsalikerne,' in _Meddelelser om Grönland_, x. 87, 175 _sq._ (Greenlanders). Beechey, _Voyage to the Pacific and Behring's Strait_, ii. 571; Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, i. 367; Seemann, _Voyage of "Herald,"_ ii. 65 (Western Eskimo). Hooper, _Ten Months among the Tents of the Tuski_, pp. 160, 193, 194, 208; Nordenskiöld, _Vegas färd kring Asien och Europa_, ii. 145 (Chukchi). Dall, _op. cit._ pp. 381 (Tuski), 517 (Kamchadales), 526 (Ainos). Sarytschew, _loc. cit._ v. 67 (Kamchadales). Dobell, _Travels in Kamtschatka and Siberia_, i. 63, 82 _sq._ (Kamchadales); ii. 42 (Jakuts). Sauer, _op. cit._ p. 124 (Jakuts). Vámbéry, _Das Türkenvolk_, pp. 159 (Jakuts), 336 (natives of Eastern Turkestan), 411 (Turkomans), 451 (Tshuvashes), 509 (Baskirs), &c. Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, p. 236 (Kurile Islanders). Georgi, _Russia_, i. 113 (Mordvins); iii. 111 (Tunguses), 167 (Koriaks); iv. 22 (Kalmucks). Bergmann, _Nomadische Streifereien unter den Kalmüken_, ii. 281 _sqq._ Prejevalsky, _Mongolia_, i. 71 _sq._ Castrén, _Nordiska resor och forskningar_, i. 41 (Laplanders), 319 (Ostyaks). Scott Robertson, _Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 187 _sq._ Fraser, _Tour through the Him[=a]l[=a] Mountains_, pp. 264 (people of Kunawar), 335 (Butias). Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, pp. 46 (Kukis), 68 (Garos). Hunter, _Annals of Rural Bengal_, i. 215 (Santals). Tickell, 'Memoir on the Hodésum,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, ix. (pt. ii.) 807 _sq._ (Hos). Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, p. 217 (Tipperahs). Colquhoun, _Amongst the Shans_, pp. 160 _sq._ (Steins), 371 (Shans). Foreman, _Philippine Islands_, p. 187. de Crespigny, 'Milanows of Borneo,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ v, 34. Low, _Sarawak_, pp. 243 (Hill Dyaks), 336 (Kayans). Boyle, _Adventures among the Dyaks of Borneo_, p. 215. Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, i. 82 (Sea Dyaks). Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 208 (natives of the interior of Sumatra). Raffles, _History of Java_, i. 249; Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, i. 53 (Javanese). Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua_, p. 41 (natives of Ambon and Uliase). von Kotzebue, _op. cit._ iii. 165 (natives of Radack), 215 (Pelew Islanders). Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI.--Ethnography and Philology_, p. 95 (Kingsmill Islanders). Macdonald, _Oceania_, p. 195 (Efatese). Erskine, _Cruise among the Islands of the Western Pacific_, p. 273 _sq._; Williams and Calvert, _Fiji and the Fijians_, p. 110; Anderson, _Travel in Fiji and New Caledonia_, p. 134 _sq._ (Fijians). Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 95. _Idem_, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 346 _sq._ Forster, _op. cit._ ii. 158 (Tahitians) 364 (natives of Tana), 394 (South Sea Islanders generally). Cook, _Voyage round the World_, p. 40 (Tahitians). Tregear, 'Niue,' in _Jour. Polynesian Soc._ ii. 13 (Savage Islanders), Turner, _Samoa_, p. 114; Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, p. 132; Brenchley, _Jottings during the Cruise of H.M.S. Curaçoa among the South Sea Islands_, p. 76 (Samoans). Mariner, _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 154. Yate, _op. cit._ p. 100; Dieffenbach, _op. cit._ ii. 107 _sq._; Polack, _Manners and Customs of the New Zealanders_, ii. 155 _sq._; Angas, _Savage Life and Scenes in Australia and New Zealand_, ii. 22 (Maoris). Gason, 'Manners and Customs of the Dieyerie Tribe,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 258; Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ i. 25; Salvado, _op. cit._ p. 340 (Australian aborigines). Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 198; Sibree, _The Great African Island_, pp. 126, 129; Rochon, _Voyage to Madagascar_, p. 62; Little, _Madagascar_, p. 61; Shaw, 'Betsileo,' in _Antananarivo Annual and Madagascar Magazine_, ii. 82. Burchell, _Travels in the Interior of Southern Africa_, ii. 54 (Bushmans), 345 (Hottentots). Kolben, _Present State of the Cape of Good Hope_, i. 166, 337; Le Vaillant, _Travels from the Cape of Good Hope_, ii. 143 _sq._; Schinz, _Deutsch-Südwest-Afrika_, p. 81 (Hottentots). Lichtenstein, _Travels in Southern Africa_, i. 272; Leslie, _Among the Zulus and Amatongas_, p. 203 (Kafirs). Casalis, _Basutos_, pp. 209, 224. Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, 198 (Ovambo). Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 27, 263 (Eastern Central Africans). Wilson and Felkin, _op. cit._ i. 211, 225 (Waganda). Rowley, _Africa Unveiled_, p. 47 (natives of Manganja, in the neighbourhood of Lake Nyassa). New, _Life, Wanderings, and Labours in East Africa_, pp. 102 (Wanika), 361 (Taveta). Thomson, _Through Masai Land_, p. 64 (Wa-kwafi, of the Taveta). Tuckey, _Expedition to explore the River Zaire_, p. 374 (Congo natives), Bosman, _Description of the Coast of Guinea_, p. 108. Burton, _Two Trips to Gorilla Land_, i. 106 (Mpongwe). _Idem_, _Abeokuta_, i. 303 (Yoruba). Caillié, _Travels through Central Africa_, i. 165 (Bagos). Chavanne, _Die Sahara_, p. 185 (Touareg). Hanoteau and Letourneux, _La Kabylie_, ii. 45 _sqq._ Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 534 (Barea). Lobo, _Voyage to Abyssinia_, p. 82 _sq._ For the deteriorating influence which contact with a "higher culture" exercises on savage hospitality, see Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 306 _sq._; Ellis, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 346; von Kotzebue, _op. cit._ iii. 250 (Hawaiians); Meade, _Ride through the Disturbed Districts of New Zealand_, p. 164; Dieffenbach, _op. cit._ ii. 107, 108, 110.] [Footnote 13: According to a law of the Peruvian Incas, strangers and travellers should be treated as guests, and public houses were provided for them (Garcilasso de la Vega, _First Part of the Royal Commentaries of the Yncas_, ii. 34). For Yucatan, see Landa, _Relacion de las cosas de Yucatan_, p. 134. Though hospitality, according to Mr. Wells Williams (_Middle Kingdom_, i. 835), is not a trait of the character of the modern Chinese, kindness to strangers and travellers is enjoined in their moral and religious books (Chalmers, 'Chinese Natural Theology,' in _China Review_, v. 281. Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 273. _Indo-Chinese Gleaner_, iii. 160). In Corea it would be a grave and shameful thing to refuse a portion of one's meal with any person, known or unknown, who presents himself at eating-time (Griffis, _Corea_, p. 288). For the Hebrews, see _Genesis_, xviii. 2 _sqq._, xxiv. 31 _sqq._; _Leviticus_, xix. 9 _sq._, xxv. 35; _Deuteronomy_, xiv. 29, xvi. 11, 14; _Judges_, xix. 17 _sqq._; _Job_, xxxiv. 32; also Bertholet, _Die Stellung der Israeliten und der Juden zu den Fremden_, p. 22 _sqq._, and Nowack, _Lehrbuch der hebräischen Archäologie_, p. 186 _sq._ For Muhammedans, see Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 296 _sq._; Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, pp. 100-102, 192 _sqq._; Wood, _Journey to the Source of the River Oxus_, p. 148; Hamilton, _Researches in Asia Minor_, ii. 379. For ancient India, see Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Gentium_, pp. 39, 40, 223 _sqq._ For Greece, see Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 325 _sqq._ For Rome, see Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Civile_, i. 355 _sqq._; von Jhering, _Geist des römischen Rechts_, i. 227 _sq._ For ancient Teutons, see Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 399 _sq._; Gummere, _Germanic Origins_, p. 162 _sqq._; Keyser, _Efterladte Skrifter_, ii. pt. ii. 93; Weinhold, _Altnordisches Leben_, p. 441 _sqq._; Gudmundsson and Kålund, 'Sitte,' in Paul's _Grundriss der germanischen Philologie_, iii. 450 _sq._ For Slavonians, see Schrader, _Reallexikon der indogermanischen Altertumskunde_, i. 270; Krauss, _Die Südslaven_, p. 644 _sqq._] [Footnote 14: Hyades and Deniker, _Mission scientifique du Cap Horn_, vii. 243.] [Footnote 15: Powers, _op. cit._ p. 112.] [Footnote 16: Bartram, 'Creek and Cherokee Indians,' in _Trans. American Ethn. Soc._ iii. pt. i. 42.] [Footnote 17: Hilhouse, in _Jour. Roy. Geo. Soc._ ii. 230. _Idem_, _Indian Notices_, p. 14. _Cf._ von Martins, _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 692.] [Footnote 18: Smeaton, _Loyal Karens of Burma_, p. 144 _sq._] [Footnote 19: Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 73 _sqq._] [Footnote 20: Palgrave, _Journey through Central and Eastern Arabia_, i. 345.] [Footnote 21: _Institutes of Vishnu_, lxvii. 31. For other instances of the precedence granted to guests, see Man, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 94, 148 (Andaman Islanders); Buchanan, _North American Indians_, p. 324 (Indians of Pennsylvania); Lyon, _Private Journal_, p. 350 (Eskimo of Igloolik); Seemann, _Voyage of "Herald,"_ ii. 65 (Western Eskimo); Krasheninnikoff, _op. cit._ p. 211 (Kamchadales), Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 153 _sq._ (Kamchadales), 183 _sq._ (Chukchi). Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, i. 86 (Sea Dyaks); Mariner, _op. cit._ ii. 154 (Tonga Islanders); New, _op. cit._ p. 102 (Wanika); Hanoteau and Letourneux, _op. cit._ ii. 45 (Kabyles); Wells Williams, _op. cit._ i. 540 (Chinese): Krauss, _op. cit._ p. 649 _sq._ (Southern Slavs).] Custom may require that hospitality should be shown even to an enemy. Captain Holm tells us of a Greenlander of bad character who, though he had murdered his step-father, was received, and for a long time entertained, when he paid a visit to the nearest kindred of the murdered man; and this, as it seems, was agreeable to old custom.[22] Among the Aeneze Bedouins, says Burckhardt, all means are reckoned lawful to avenge the blood of a slain relative, "provided the homicide be not killed while he is a guest in the tent of a third person, or if he has taken refuge even in the tent of his deadly foe."[23] In Afghanistan "a man's bitterest enemy is safe while he is under his roof."[24] We read in the Hitopadesa:--"On even an enemy arrived at the house becoming hospitality should be bestowed; the tree does not withdraw its sheltering shadow from the wood-cutter. . . . The guest is everyone's superior."[25] The old Norsemen considered it a duty to treat a guest hospitably even though it came out that he had killed the brother of his host.[26] A mediæval {577} knight granted safe conduct through his territories to all who required it, including those who asserted pretensions which, if established, would deprive him of his possessions.[27] [Footnote 22: Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 305 _sq._] [Footnote 23: Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 87. _Cf._ Daumas, _La vie Arabe_, p. 317 (Algerian Arabs).] [Footnote 24: Elphinstone, _Kingdom of Caubul_, i. 296.] [Footnote 25: _Hitopadesa_, Mitralâbhâ, 60, 62.] [Footnote 26: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 400. Weinhold, _Altnordisches Leben_, p. 441. For other instances of hospitality towards enemies, see James, _Expedition to the Rocky Mountains_, i. 322 (Omahas); Bartram, in _Trans. American Ethn. Soc._ iii. pt. i. 42 (Creeks and Cherokees); Lomonaco, 'Sullerazze indigene del Brasile,' in _Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia_, xix. 57 (Tupis); Krauss, _op. cit._ p. 650 (Montenegrines).] [Footnote 27: Mills, _History of Chivalry_, p. 154.] To protect a guest is looked upon as a most stringent duty under all circumstances. "Le Kabyle qui accorde son _ânaïa_ doit, sous peine d'infamie, y faire honneur, dût-il s'exposer à tous les dangers. . . . La violation de leur _ânaïa_ est la plus grave injure que l'on puisse infliger à des Kabyles. Un homme qui viole, ou, suivant l'expression consacrée, qui brise l'_ânaïa_ de son village ou de sa tribu, est puni de mort et de la confiscation de tous ses biens; sa maison est démolie."[28] Among the Bedouins a breach of the law of _dakheel_ "would be considered a disgrace not only upon the individual but upon his family, and even upon his tribe, which never could be wiped out. No greater insult can be offered to a man, or to his clan, than to say that he has broken the _dakheel_."[29] Among the Aenezes, according to Burckhardt, "a violation of hospitality, by the betraying of a guest, has not occurred within the memory of man."[30] In Egypt, "most Bedawees will suffer almost any injury to themselves or their families rather than allow their guests to be ill-treated while under their protection."[31] Among the Kandhs, "for the safety of a guest life and honour are pledged; he is to be considered before a child"; in order to save his guest a man is even allowed to speak falsely, which is otherwise condemned by them as a heinous sin.[32] Vámbéry tells us of cases in which the Kara-Kirghiz have preferred being harassed with war by the Chinese to surrendering to them such Chinese fugitives as have sought and received their hospitality.[33] Among the Ossetes the host not only considers himself responsible for the safety of his guest, {578} but "revenges the murder or wounding of the latter as he would that of a kinsman."[34] In Albania it is considered infamous to leave an injury inflicted on a guest unavenged.[35] Among the Takue, though a man would accept compensation for the murder of a relative, he would in all cases exact blood-revenge for the murder of his guest.[36] On the other hand, in Sierra Leone a guest "is scarcely accountable for any faults which he may commit, whether through inadvertency or design, the host being considered as responsible for the actions of 'his stranger.'"[37] [Footnote 28: Hanoteau and Letourneux, _op. cit._ ii. 61 _sq._] [Footnote 29: Layard, _Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon_, p. 317.] [Footnote 30: Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 100. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 192.] [Footnote 31: Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, p. 297.] [Footnote 32: Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, pp. 65, 94.] [Footnote 33: Vámbéry, _Das Türkenvolk_, p. 268. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 411 (Turkomans).] [Footnote 34: von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 412.] [Footnote 35: Gop[vc]evi['c], _Oberalbanien und seine Liga_, p. 328.] [Footnote 36: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 208. Among the Barea and Kunáma a man avenges the death of his guest by killing the guest of the murderer (_ibid._ p. 477).] [Footnote 37: Winterbottom, _Native Africans in the Neighbourhood of Sierra Leone_, i. 214.] Hospitality is not only regarded as a duty of the first order, but has, in a remarkable degree, been associated with religion. Among the doctrines held up for acceptance by the religious instructors of the Iroquois there was the following precept:--"If a stranger wander about your abode, welcome him to your home, be hospitable towards him, speak to him with kind words, and forget not always to mention the Great Spirit."[38] The natives of Aneiteum, of the New Hebrides, maintained that generous hospitality would receive the highest reward in the Land of the Dead.[39] The Kalmucks believe that want of hospitality will be punished by angry gods.[40] The Kandhs say that the first duty which the gods have imposed upon man is that of hospitality; and "persons guilty of the neglect of established observances are punished by the divine wrath, either during their current lives, or when they afterwards return to animate other bodies," the penalties being death, poverty, disease, the loss of children, or any other form of calamity.[41] In the sacred books of India hospitality is repeatedly spoken of as a most important duty, the discharge of which will be {579} amply rewarded. "The inhospitable man," the Vedic singer tell us, "acquires food in vain. I speak the truth--it verily is his death. . . . He who eats alone is nothing but a sinner."[42] "He who does not feed these five, the gods, his guests, those whom he is bound to maintain, the manes, and himself, lives not, though he breathes."[43] According to the Vishnu Purána, a person who neglects a poor and friendless stranger in want of hospitality, goes to hell.[44] On the other hand, by honouring guests a householder obtains the highest reward.[45] "He who entertains guests for one night obtains earthly happiness, a second night gains the middle air, a third heavenly bliss, a fourth the world of unsurpassable bliss; many nights procure endless worlds. That has been declared in the Veda."[46] It is said in the Mahabharata that "he who gives food freely to a fatigued wayfarer, whom he has never seen before, obtains great virtuous merit."[47] According to Hesiod, Zeus himself is wrath with him who does evil to a suppliant or a guest, and at last, in requital for his deed, lays on him a bitter penalty.[48] Plato says:--"In his relations to strangers, a man should consider that a contract is a most holy thing, and that all concerns and wrongs of strangers are more directly dependent on the protection of God, than wrongs done to citizens. . . . He who is most able is the genius and the god of the stranger, who follows in the train of Zeus, the god of strangers. And for this reason, he who has a spark of caution in him, will do his best to pass through life without sinning against the stranger. And of offences committed, whether against strangers or fellow-country-men, that against suppliants is the greatest."[49] Similar opinions prevailed in ancient Rome. _Jus hospitii_, whilst {580} forming no part of the civil law, belonged to _fas_; the stranger, who enjoyed no legal protection, was, as a guest, protected by custom and religion.[50] The _dii hospitales_ and Jupiter were on guard over him;[51] hence the duties towards a guest were even more stringent than those towards a relative.[52] Cæsar[53] and Tacitus[54] attest that the Teutons considered it impious to injure a guest or to exclude any human being from the shelter of their roof. The God of Israel was a preserver of strangers.[55] In the Talmud hospitality is described as "the most important part of divine worship,"[56] as being equivalent to the duty of honouring father and mother,[57] as even more meritorious than frequenting the synagogue.[58] Muhammedanism likewise regards hospitality as a religious duty.[59] "Whoever," said the Prophet, "believes in God and the day of resurrection, must respect his guest."[60] But the idea that a guest enjoys divine protection prevailed among the Arabs long before the times of Muhammed.[61] The Bedouins say that the guests are "guests of God."[62] The Christian Church, again, regarded hospitality as a duty imposed by Christ.[63] [Footnote 38: Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 172.] [Footnote 39: Inglis, _In the New Hebrides_, p. 31.] [Footnote 40: Bergmann, _op. cit._ ii. 281 _sq._] [Footnote 41: Macpherson, 'Religious Opinions and Observances of the Khonds,' in _Jour. Roy. Asiatic Soc._ vii. 196.] [Footnote 42: _Rig-Veda_, x. 117. 6.] [Footnote 43: _Laws of Manu_, iii. 72. _Cf._ _Institutes of Vishnu_, lxvii. 45.] [Footnote 44: _Vish['n]u Purá['n]a_, p. 305.] [Footnote 45: _Institutes of Vishnu_, lxvii. 28, 32.] [Footnote 46: _Âpastamba_, ii. 3. 7. 16.] [Footnote 47: _Mahabharata_, Vana Parva, ii. 61, pt. v. p. 5.] [Footnote 48: Hesiod, _Opera et dies_, 331 _sq._ (333 _sq._).] [Footnote 49: Plato, _Leges_, v. 729 _sq._] [Footnote 50: Servius, _In Virgilii Æneidos_, iii. 55: "Fas omne; et cognationis, et iuris hospitii." von Jhering, _Geist des römischen Rechts_, i. 227. Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Civile_, i. 103, 358 _sq._] [Footnote 51: Servius, _In Virgilii Æneidos_, i. 736. Livy, _Historiæ Romanæ_, xxxix. 51. Tacitus, _Annales_, xv. 52. Plautus, _P[oe]nuli_, v. 1. 25.] [Footnote 52: Gellius, _Noctes Atticæ_, v. 13. 5: "In officiis apud maiores ita observatum est, primum tutelae, deinde hospiti, deinde clienti, tum cognato, postea affini."] [Footnote 53: Cæsar, _De bello Gallico_, vi. 23.] [Footnote 54: Tacitus, _Germania_, 21.] [Footnote 55: _Psalms_, cxlvi. 9.] [Footnote 56: Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 57.] [Footnote 57: _Kiddushin_, fol. 39 B, quoted by Hershon, _Treasures of the Talmud_, p. 145.] [Footnote 58: _Sabbath_, fol. 127 A, quoted by Katz, _Der wahre Talmudjude_, p. 103.] [Footnote 59: _Koran_, iv. 40 _sqq._] [Footnote 60: Lane, _Arabian Society in the Middle Ages_, p. 142.] [Footnote 61: Wellhausen, _Reste arabischen Heidentums_, p. 223 _sq._] [Footnote 62: Doughty, _Arabia Deserta_, i. 228, 504.] [Footnote 63: Laurent, _Études sur l'histoire de l'Humanité_, vii. 346.] That a stranger, who under other circumstances is treated as an inferior being or a foe, liable to be robbed and killed with impunity, should enjoy such extraordinary privileges as a guest, is certainly one of the most curious contrasts which present themselves to a student of the moral ideas of mankind. It may be asked, why should {581} he be received at all? Of course, he stands in need of protection and support, but why should those who do not know him care for that? One answer is that his helpless condition may excite pity; facts seem to prove that even among savages the altruistic feelings, however narrow, can be stirred by the sight of a suffering and harmless stranger. Another answer is that the host himself may expect to reap benefit from his act. And there can be little doubt that the rules of hospitality are in the main based on egoistic considerations. It has been justly observed that in uncivilised countries, where there is no public accommodation for travellers, "hospitality is so necessary, and so much required by the mutual convenience of all parties, as to detract greatly from its merit as a moral quality."[64] When the stranger belongs to a community with which a reciprocity of intercourse prevails, it is prudent to give him a hearty reception; he who is the host to-day may be the guest tomorrow. "If the Red Indians are hospitable," says Domenech, "they also look for their hospitality being returned with the same marks of respect and consideration."[65] Moreover, the stranger is a bearer of news and tidings, and as such may be a welcome guest where communication between different places is slow and rare.[66] During my wanderings in the remote forests of Northern Finland I was constantly welcomed with the phrase, "What news?" But the stranger may be supposed to bring with him something which is valued even more highly, namely, good luck or blessings. [Footnote 64: Winterbottom, _op. cit._ i. 214.] [Footnote 65: Domenech, _Seven Years' Residence in the Great Deserts of North America_, ii. 319. _Cf._ Dunbar, 'Pawnee Indians.' in _Magazine of American History_, viii. 745; Brett, _Indian Tribes of Guiana_, p. 347; Bernau, _Missionary Labours in British Guiana_, p. 51; von den Steinen, _Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens_, p. 333 _sq._ (Bakaïri); Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 154 (Kamchadales); Smeaton, _op. cit._ p. 146 (Karens); Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 95 (Society Islanders); Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, p. 132, and Brenchley, _op. cit._ p. 76 (Samoans); Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 110, and Anderson, _Notes of Travel in Fiji and New Caledonia_, p. 135 (Fijians); Chavanne, _Die Sahara_, p. 393 (Arabs of the Sahara).] [Footnote 66: Wright, _Domestic Manners and Sentiments in England during the Middle Ages_, p. 329.] During the first days of my stay at Demnat, in the Great Atlas, the natives in spite of their hostility towards Europeans, said they were quite pleased with my coming to see them, because I had brought with me rain and an increase of the import of victuals, which just before my arrival had been very scarce. So, too, whilst residing among the Andjra mountaineers in the North of Morocco, I was said to be a person with "propitious ankles," because, since I settled down among them, the village where I stayed was frequently visited by Shereefs--presumed descendants of the Prophet Muhammed--who are always highly valued guests on account of the _baraka_, or holiness, with which they are supposed in a smaller or greater degree to be endowed. The stranger may be a source of good fortune either involuntarily, as a bearer of luck, or through his good wishes; and there is every reason to hope that he will, if treated hospitably, return the kindness of his host with a blessing. According to the old traveller d'Arvieux, strangers, who come to an Arab village are received by the Sheikh with some such words as these:--"You are welcome; praised be God that you are in good health; your arrival draws down the blessing of heaven upon us; the house and all that is in it is yours, you are masters of it."[67] It is said in one of the sacred books of India that through a Brâhmana guest the people obtain rain, and food through rain, hence they know that "the hospitable reception of a guest is a ceremony averting evil."[68] When we read in the Laws of Manu that "the hospitable reception of guests procures wealth, fame, long life, and heavenly bliss,"[69] it is also reasonable to suppose that this supernatural reward is a result of blessings invoked on the host. In the 'Suppliants' of Aeschylus the Chorus sings:--"Let us utter for the Argives blessings in requital of their blessings. And may Zeus of Strangers watch to their fulfilment the rewards that issue from a stranger's tongue, that {583} they reach their perfect goal."[70] We can now understand the eagerness with which guests are sought for. When a guest enters the hut of a Kalmuck, "the host, the hostess, and everybody in the hut, rejoice at the arrival of the stranger as at an unexpected fortune."[71] Among the Arabs of Sinai, "if a stranger be seen from afar coming towards the camp, he is the guest for that night of the first person who descries him, and who, whether a grown man or a child, exclaims, 'There comes my guest.' Such a person has a right to entertain the guest that night. Serious quarrels happen on these occasions; and the Arabs often have recourse to their great oath--'By the divorce (from my wife) I swear that I shall entertain the guest'; upon which all opposition ceases."[72] It is also very usual in the East to eat before the gate of the house where travellers pass, and every stranger of respectable appearance is invariably requested to sit down and partake of the repast.[73] Among the Maoris, "no sooner does a stranger appear in sight, than he is welcomed with the usual cry of 'Come hither! come hither!' from numerous voices, and is immediately invited to eat of such provisions as the place affords."[74] [Footnote 67: d'Arvieux, _Travels in Arabia the Desart_, p. 131 _sq._] [Footnote 68: _Vasishtha_, xi. 13.] [Footnote 69: _Laws of Manu_, iii. 106.] [Footnote 70: Aeschylus, _Supplices_, 632 _sqq._] [Footnote 71: Bergmann, _op. cit._ ii. 282.] [Footnote 72: Burckhardt, _Bedouin and Wahábys_ p. 198.] [Footnote 73: _Idem_, _Arabic Proverbs_, p. 218. Chasseb[oe]uf de Volney, _Travels through Syria and Egypt_, i. 413.] [Footnote 74: Yate, _op. cit._ p. 100. _Cf._ Turner, _Nineteen Years in Polynesia_, p. 325 (Samoans); Sproat, _op. cit._ p. 57 (Ahts).] If efficacy is ascribed to the blessings even of an ordinary man, the blessings of a stranger are naturally supposed to be still more powerful. For the unknown stranger, like everything unknown and everything strange, arouses a feeling of mysterious awe in superstitious minds. The Ainos say, "Do not treat strangers slightingly, for you never know whom you are entertaining."[75] According to the Hitopadesa, "a guest consists of all the deities."[76] It is significant that in the writings of ancient India, Greece, and Rome, guests are mentioned next after gods as due objects of regard.[77] Thus Aeschylus speaks of a man's {584} "impious conduct to a god, or a stranger, or to his parents dear."[78] According to Homeric notions, "the gods, in the likeness of strangers from far countries, put on all manner of shapes, and wander through the cities, beholding the violence and the righteousness of men."[79] The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews writes, "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."[80] [Footnote 75: Batchelor, _Ainu and their Folk-Lore_, p. 259.] [Footnote 76: _Hitopadesa_, Mitralâbhâ, 65.] [Footnote 77: _Anugitâ_, 3, 31 (_Sacred Books of the East_, viii. 243, 361). Gellius, _Noctes Atticæ_, v. 13. 5.] [Footnote 78: Aeschylus, _Eumenides_, 270 _sq._] [Footnote 79: _Odyssey_, xvii. 485 _sqq._] [Footnote 80: _Hebrews_, xiii. 2.] The visiting stranger, however, is regarded not only as a potential benefactor, but as a potential source of evil. He may bring with him disease or ill-luck. He is commonly believed to be versed in magic;[81] and the evil wishes and curses of a stranger are greatly feared, owing partly to his quasi-supernatural character, partly to the close contact in which he comes with the host and his belongings. [Footnote 81: Frazer, _Golden Bough_, i. 298 _sqq._] In the Mentawey Islands, in the Malay Archipelago, "if a stranger enters a house where there are children, the father or some other member of the family who happens to be present, takes the ornament with which the children decorate their hair, and hands it to the stranger, who holds it in his hands for a while, and then gives it back"; this is supposed to protect the child from the evil effect which the eye of a stranger might have on it.[82] With reference to the Californian Pomo, Mr. Powers states, "Let a perfect stranger enter a wigwam and offer the lodge-father a string of beads for any object that takes his fancy--merely pointing to it, but uttering no word--and the owner holds himself bound in savage honour to make the exchange, whether it is a fair one or not." When we compare this idea of "savage honour" with certain cases mentioned in the last chapter, we cannot doubt that it is based on superstitious fear; indeed, the next day the former owner of the article "may thrust the stranger through with his spear, or crush his forehead with a pebble from his sling, and the bystanders will look {585} upon it as only the rectification of a bad bargain."[83] Among the African Herero "no curse is regarded as heavier than that which one who has been inhospitably treated would hurl at those who have driven him from the hearth."[84] According to Greek ideas, guests and suppliants had their Erinyes[85] --personifications of their curses; and it would be difficult to attribute any other meaning to "the genius ([Greek: dai/môn]) and the god of the stranger, who follow in the train of Zeus," spoken of by Plato, and to the Roman _dii hospitales_, in their capacity of avengers of injuries done to guests. Aeschylus represents Apollo as saying, "I shall assist him (Orestes), and rescue my own suppliant; for terrible both among men and gods is the wrath of a refugee, when one abandons him with intent."[86] It is no doubt the same idea that the Chorus in the 'Suppliants' expresses, in a modified form, when singing:--"Grievous is the wrath of Zeus Petitionary. . . . I must needs hold in awe the wrath of Zeus Petitionary, for that is the supremest on earth."[87] Âpastamba's Aphorisms contain a sûtra the object of which is to show the absolute necessity of feeding a guest, owing to the fact that, "if offended, he might burn the house with the flames of his anger";[88] for "a guest comes to the house resembling a burning fire,"[89] "a guest rules over the world of Indra."[90] According to the Institutes of Vishnu, "one who has arrived as a guest and is obliged to turn home disappointed in his expectations, takes away from the man to whose house he has come his religious merit, and throws his own guilt upon him";[91] and the {586} same idea is found in many other ancient books of India.[92] That a dissatisfied guest, or a Brâhmana,[93] thus takes with him the spiritual merit of his churlish host, allows of a quite literal interpretation. In Morocco, a Shereef is generally unwilling to let a stranger kiss his hand, for fear lest the stranger should extract from him his _baraka_, or holiness; and the Shereefs of Wazzari are reputed to rob other Shereefs, who visit them, of their holiness, should the latter leave behind any remainder of their meals, even though it be only a bone. [Footnote 82: Rosenberg, _Der Malayische Archipel_, p. 198.] [Footnote 83: Powers, _op. cit._ p. 153. The same privilege as "the perfect stranger" possesses among the Pomo, was granted by the tribes of the Niger Delta to the Ibo girl who was destined to be offered as a sacrifice. She "was allowed to claim any piece of cloth or any ornament she set her eyes upon, and the native to whom it belonged was obliged to present it to her" (Comte de Cardi, 'Ju-ju Laws and Customs,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxix. 54).] [Footnote 84: Ratzel, _History of Mankind_, 480.] [Footnote 85: Plato, _Epistolæ_, viii. 357. Apollonius Rhodius, _Argonautica_, iv. 1042 _sq._] [Footnote 86: Aeschylus, _Eumenides_, 232 _sqq._] [Footnote 87: _Idem_, _Supplices_, 349, 489.] [Footnote 88: _Sacred Books of the East_ ii. 114, n. 3.] [Footnote 89: _Âpastamba_, ii. 3. 6. 3.] [Footnote 90: _Laws of Manu_, iv. 182.] [Footnote 91: _Institutes of Vishnu_, lxvii. 33.] [Footnote 92: _Vasishtha_, viii. 6. _Laws of Manu_, ii. 100. _Hitopadesa_, Mitralâbhâ, 64.] [Footnote 93: _Vasishtha_, viii. 6. _Laws of Manu_, iii. 100.] The efficacy of a wish or a curse depends not only upon the potency which it possesses from the beginning, owing to certain qualities in the person from whom it originates, but also on the vehicle by which it is conducted--just as the strength of an electric shock depends both on the original intensity of the current and on the condition of the conductor. As particularly efficient conductors are regarded blood, bodily contact, food, and drink. In Morocco, the duties of a host are closely connected with the institution of _l-[(]âr_, one of the most sacred customs of that country. If a person desires to compel another to help him, or to forgive him, or, generally, to grant some request, he makes _[(]âr_ on him. He kills a sheep or a goat or only a chicken at the threshold of his house, or at the entrance of his tent; or he grasps with his hands either the person whom he invokes, or that person's child, or the horse which he is riding; or he touches him with his turban or a fold of his dress. In short, he establishes some kind of contact with the other person, to serve as a conductor of his wishes and of his conditional curses. It is universally believed that, if the person so appealed to does not grant the request, his own welfare is at stake, and that the danger is particularly great if an animal has been killed at his door, and he steps over the blood or only catches a glimpse of it. As appears from the expression, "This is _[(]âr_ on you if you do not do this or that," the blood, or {587} the direct bodily contact, is supposed to transfer to the other person a conditional curse:--If you do not help me, then you will die, or your children will die, or some other evil will happen to you. So also the owner of a house or a tent to which a person has fled for refuge must, in his own interest, assist the fugitive, who is in his _[(]âr_; for, by being in his dwelling, the refugee is in close contact with him and his belongings. Again, the restraint which a common meal lays on those who partake of it is conspicuous in the usual practice of sealing a compact of friendship by eating together at the tomb of some saint. The true meaning of this is made perfectly clear by the phrase that "the food will repay" him who breaks the compact. The sacredness of the place adds to the efficacy of the imprecation, but its vehicle, the real punisher, is the eaten food, because it embodies a conditional curse. Now the idea underlying these customs is certainly not restricted to Morocco. As will be shown in subsequent chapters, blood is very commonly used as a conductor of conditional curses; for instance, one object of the practice of sacrifice is to transfer an imprecation to the god by means of the blood of the victim. Bodily contact is another common means of communicating curses; and this accounts for many remarkable cases of compulsory hospitality and protection which have been noticed in different quarters of the world. In Fiji "the same native who within a few yards of his house would murder a coming or departing guest for sake of a knife or a hatchet, will defend him at the risk of his own life as soon as he has passed his threshold."[94] In the Pelew Islands "an enemy may not be killed in a house, especially not in the presence of the host."[95] If an Ossetian receives into his house a stranger whom he afterwards discovers to be a man to whom he owes blood-revenge, this makes no difference in his hospitality; but when the guest takes his leave, the {588} host accompanies him to the boundary of the village, and on parting from him exclaims, "Henceforth beware!"[96] Among the Kandhs, if a man can make his way by any means into the house of his enemy he cannot be touched, even though his life has been forfeited to his involuntary host by the law of blood-revenge.[97] In none of these cases is an explanation given of the extraordinary privilege granted to the stranger; but it seems highly probable that it has the same origin as the exactly similar custom prevalent among the Moors. In other words, as soon as the stranger has come in touch with a person by entering his house, he is thought to be able to transmit to that person and his family and his property any evil wishes he pleases. So, also, in the East any stranger may place himself under the protection of an Arab by merely touching his tent or his tent-ropes,[98] and after this is done "it would be reckoned a disgraceful meanness, an indelible shame, to satisfy even a just vengeance at the expense of hospitality."[99] "Amongst the Shammar," says Layard, "if a man can seize the end of a string or thread, the other end of which is held by his enemy, he immediately becomes his Dakheel [or _protégé_]. If he touch the canvas of a tent, or can even throw his mace towards it, he is the Dakheel of its owner. If he can spit upon a man or touch any article belonging to him with his teeth, he is Dakhal, unless of course, in case of theft, it be the person who caught him. . . . The Shammar never plunder a caravan within sight of their encampment, for as long as a stranger can see their tents they consider him their Dakheel."[100] But one of the Bedouin tribes described by Lady Anne and Mr. Blunt, whilst ready to rob the stranger who comes to their tents, {589} "count their hospitality as beginning only from the moment of his eating with them."[101] All Bedouins regard the eating of "salt" together as a bond of mutual friendship, and there are tribes who quite in accordance with the Moorish principle, "the food will repay you"--require to renew this bond every twenty-four hours, or after two nights and the day between them, since otherwise, as they say, "the salt is not in their stomachs,"[102] and can therefore no longer punish the person who breaks the contract. The "salt" which gives a claim to protection consists in eating even the smallest portion of food belonging to the protector.[103] The Sultan Saladin did not allow the Crusader Renaud de Chatillon, when brought before him as a prisoner, to quench his thirst in his tent, for, had he drunk water there, the enemy would have been justified in regarding his life as safe.[104] We find a similar custom among the Omaha Indians: "should an enemy appear in the lodge and receive a mouthful of food or water, or put the pipe in his mouth, he cannot be injured by any member of the tribe, as he is bound for the time being by the ties of hospitality, and they are compelled to protect him and send him home in safety."[105] In these and similar cases, where there is no common meal, the guest may nevertheless transmit to his host a curse by the exceedingly close contact established between him and the food or drink or tobacco of the host, according to the principle of _pars pro toto_. This is an idea very familiar to the primitive mind. It lies, for instance, at the bottom of the common belief that a person may bewitch his enemy by getting hold of some of his spittle or some leavings of his food--a belief which has led to the custom of guests carrying away with them all they are unable to eat of the food which is placed before them, {590} out of dread lest the residue of their meal should be eaten by somebody else.[106] The magic wire may conduct imprecations in either direction. In Morocco, if a person gives to another some food or drink, it is considered dangerous, not only for the recipient to receive it without saying, "In the name of God," but also for the giver to give it without uttering the same formula, by way of precaution.[107] [Footnote 94: Wilkes, _U.S. Exploring Expedition_, iii. 77.] [Footnote 95: Kubary, 'Die Palau-Inseln in der Südsee,' in _Journal des Museum Godeffroy_, iv. 25.] [Footnote 96: von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 412.] [Footnote 97: Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 66.] [Footnote 98: Robertson Smith, _Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia_, p. 48. Blunt, _Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates_, ii. 211.] [Footnote 99: Chasseb[oe]uf de Volney, _op. cit._ i. 412.] [Footnote 100: Layard, _op. cit._ p. 317 _sq._ Burckhardt says (_Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 72) that one of the most common oaths in the domestic life of the Bedouins is "to take hold with one hand of the _wasat_, or middle tent-pole, and to swear 'by the life of this tent and its owners.'"] [Footnote 101: Blunt, _op. cit._ ii. 211.] [Footnote 102: Burton, _Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah_, ii. 112. Doughty, _op. cit._ i. 228.] [Footnote 103: Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 187. Quatremère, 'Mémoire sur les asiles chez les Arabes,' in _Mémoires de l'Institut de France, Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres_, xv. pt. ii. 346 _sqq._] [Footnote 104: Quatremère, _loc. cit._ p. 346.] [Footnote 105: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 271.] [Footnote 106: Shortland, _Traditions and Superstitions of the New Zealanders_, pp. 86, 97. _Cf._ Ellis, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 347; Harmon, _op. cit._ p. 361 (Indians on the east side of the Rocky Mountains).] [Footnote 107: Isaac also blessed his son by eating of _his_ food (_Genesis_, xxvii. 4, 19, 24). The subject of hospitality has been incidentally dealt with by Mr. Crawley in his interesting book, _The Mystic Rose_ (p. 239 _sqq._; _cf._, also, p. 124 _sqq._). I must leave the reader to decide how far the theory I am here advocating, which mainly rests upon my researches in Morocco, coincides with his. All through his book Mr. Crawley lays much emphasis on the principle of transference; but, if I understand him rightly, he also regards commensality as involving a supposed "exchange of personality" between the host and the guest, in consequence of which "injury done to B by A is equivalent to injury done by A to himself" (p. 237). To this opinion I cannot subscribe (_cf._ _infra_, on the Origin and Development of the Altruistic Sentiment). So far as I can see, the mutual obligations arising from eating together are fundamentally based on the idea that the common meal serves as a conductor of conditional imprecations.] The stranger thus being looked upon as a more or less dangerous individual, it is natural that those who are exposed to the danger should do what they can to avert it. With this end in view certain ceremonies are often performed immediately on his arrival. Many such reception ceremonies have been described by Dr. Frazer,[108] but I shall add a few others which seem to serve the object of either transferring to the stranger conditional curses or purifying him from dangerous influences. I am told by a native that among some of the nomadic Arabs of Morocco, as soon as a stranger appears in the village, some water, or, if he be a person of distinction, some milk, is presented to him. Should he refuse to partake of it, he is not allowed to go freely about, but has to stay in the village mosque. On asking for an explanation of this custom, I was told that it is a precaution against the stranger; should he steal or otherwise misbehave himself, the drink would cause his knees to swell so that he could not escape. In other words, he has drunk a conditional curse.[109] The {591} Arabs of a tribe in Nejd "welcome" a guest by pouring on his head a cup of melted butter,[110] the South African Herero greet him with a vessel of milk.[111] Sir S. W. Baker describes a reception custom practised by the Arabs on the Abyssinian frontier, which is exactly similar to one form of _l-[(]âr_ of the Moors:--"The usual welcome upon the arrival of a traveller, who is well received in an Arab camp, is the sacrifice of a fat sheep, that should be slaughtered at the door of his hut or tent, so that the blood flows to the threshold."[112] Reception sacrifices also occur among the Shulis,[113] in Liberia,[114] and in Afghanistan.[115] Among the Indians of North America, again, it is a common rule that a dish of food should be placed before the new-comer immediately on his arrival, that he should taste of it even though he has just arisen from a feast, and that no word should be spoken to him or no question put to him until he has partaken of the food.[116] Among the Omahas "the master of the house is evidently ill at ease, until the food is prepared for eating; he will request his squaws to expedite it, and will even stir the fire himself."[117] Among many peoples it is considered necessary that the host should give food to his guest before he eats himself. This is a rule on which much stress is laid in the literature of ancient India.[118] A Brâhmana never takes food "without having offered it duly to gods and guests."[119] "He who eats before his guest consumes the rood, the prosperity, the issue, the cattle, the merit which his family acquired by sacrifices and charitable works."[120] It is probable that this punishment has something to do {592} with the evil eye of the neglected guest, for the idea of eating the evil wishes of others was evidently quite familiar to the ancient Hindus. It is said in Âpastamba's Aphorisms:--"A guest who is at enmity with his host shall not eat his food, nor shall he eat the food of a host who hates him or accuses him of a crime, or of one who is suspected of a crime. For it is declared in the Veda that he who eats the food of such a person eats his guilt."[121] In Tonga Islands, "at meals strangers or foreigners are always shewn a preference, and females are helped before men of the same rank"--according to our informant, "because they are the weaker sex and require attention."[122] As to the correctness of this explanation, however, I have some doubts; the Moors, also, at their feasts, allow the women to eat first, and one reason they give for this custom is that otherwise the hungry women might injure the men with their evil eyes. In Hawaii the host and his family do not at all partake of the entertainment with which a passing visitor is generally provided on arriving among them;[123] and that their abstinence is due to superstitious fear is all the more probable as, among the same people, it is the custom for the guest invariably to carry away with him all that remains of the entertainment.[124] [Footnote 108: Frazer, _Golden Bough_, i. 299 _sqq._] [Footnote 109: _Cf._ the "trial of jealousy" in _Numbers_. v. 11 _sqq._, particularly verse 22: "This water that causeth the curse shall go into thy bowels, to make thy belly to swell, and thy thigh to rot."] [Footnote 110: Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 102.] [Footnote 111: Ratzel, _op. cit._ ii. 480.] [Footnote 112: Baker, _Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia_, p. 94.] [Footnote 113: _Emin Pasha in Central Africa_, p. 107.] [Footnote 114: Trumbull, _Threshold Covenant_, p. 9.] [Footnote 115: Frazer, _Golden Bough_, i. 303.] [Footnote 116: Lafitau, _op. cit._ ii. 88. James, _Expedition to the Rocky Mountains_, i. 321 _sq._ Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 328. Sproat, _op. cit._ p. 57 (Ahts).] [Footnote 117: James, _op. cit._ i. 322.] [Footnote 118: _Gautama_, v. 25.] [Footnote 119: _Mahabharata_, Shanti Parva, clxxxix. 2 _sq._, pt. xxviii. _sq._ p. 281.] [Footnote 120: _Âpastamba_, ii. 3. 7. 3.] [Footnote 121: _Ibid._ ii. 3. 6. 19 _sq._ _Cf._ _Proverbs_, xxiii. 6: "Eat not the bread of him that hath an evil eye."] [Footnote 122: Mariner, _op. cit._ ii. 154.] [Footnote 123: Ellis, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 347.] [Footnote 124: _Ibid._ p. 347.] Among the precautions taken against the visiting stranger kind and respectful treatment is of particularly great importance. No traveller among an Arabic-speaking people can fail to notice the contrast between the lavish welcome and the plain leave-taking. The profuse greetings mean that the stranger will be treated as a friend and not as an enemy; and it is particularly desirable to secure his good-will in the beginning, since the first glance of an evil eye is always held to be the most dangerous. We can now realise that the extreme regard shown to a guest, and the preference given to him in every matter, must, in a {593} large measure, be due to fear of his anger, as well as to hope of his blessings. Even the peculiar custom which requires a host to lend his wife to a guest becomes more intelligible when we consider the supposed danger of the stranger's evil eye or his curses, as also the benefits which may be supposed to result from his love.[125] And when the guest leaves, it is wise of the host to accept no reward; for there maybe misfortune in the stranger's gift. [Footnote 125: Egede informs us (_op. cit._ p. 140) that the native women of Greenland thought themselves fortunate if an Angekokk, or "prophet," honoured them with his caresses; and some husbands even paid him for having intercourse with their wives, since they believed that the child of such a holy man could not but be happier and better than others. Some similar belief may be held in regard to intercourse with a guest, though I can adduce no direct evidence for my supposition. _Cf._ also the _jus primae noctis_ accorded to priests (Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 76 _sq._; _cf._ _ibid._ p. 80).] That hospitality should be free of cost is implied in the very meaning of the word. Wherever the custom of entertaining guests has been preserved pure and genuine, remuneration is neither asked nor expected; indeed, to offer payment would give offence, and to accept it would be disgraceful.[126] Such a custom might no doubt result from absence or scarcity of money, as it cannot be expected that the wandering stranger shall carry with him heavy presents to all his future hosts; and where the intercourse is mutual, the hospitable man may hope one day to be paid back in his own coin. But it seems likely that the custom of not receiving payment from a guest is largely due to that same dread of strangers which underlies many other rules of hospitality. The acceptance of gifts is frequently considered to be connected with some danger. According to rules laid down in the sacred books of India, he who is about to accept gifts, or he who has accepted gifts, must repeatedly recite the four Vedic verses called Taratsamandîs;[127] or all gifts are to be preceded by pouring out {594} water into the extended palm of the recipient's right hand,[128] evidently because the water is supposed to cleanse the gift from the baneful energy with which it may be saturated. On the other hand, "without a full knowledge of the rules prescribed by the sacred law for the acceptance of presents, a wise man should not take anything, even though he may pine with hunger. But an ignorant man who accepts gold, land, a horse, a cow, food, a dress, sesamum-grains, or clarified butter, is reduced to ashes like a piece of wood. . . . Hence an ignorant man should be afraid of accepting any presents; for by reason of a very small gift even a fool sinks into hell as a cow into a morass."[129] Moreover, a gift, to be accepted by a Brâhmana, ought to be given voluntarily, not to be asked for.[130] So, too, Hebrew writers are anxious to inculcate the duty of giving alms with an ungrudging eye, as also of not giving anything before witnesses--the latter, perhaps, with a view to preventing the evil influence which is likely to emanate from an envious spectator.[131] An Atlas Berber, who had probably never before had anything to do with a European, spat on the coin which I gave him for rendering me a service, and my native friends told me that he did so for fear lest the coin, owing to some sorcery on my part, should not only itself return to me, but at the same time take with it all the money with which it had been in contact in his bag. Of the Annamites it is said that "for fear of bringing ill-luck into the place the people even decline presents."[132] [Footnote 126: Veniaminof, quoted by Dall, _op. cit._ p. 397 (Aleuts). Bartram, in _Trans. American Ethn. Soc._ iii. pt. i. 42. Foreman, _Philippine Islands_, p. 187 (Tagalogs). Hunter, _Annals of Rural Bengal_, i. 216. Bogle, _Narrative of Mission to Tibet_, p. 109 _sq._ Vámbéry, _Das Türkenvolk_, p. 614 (Turks in Asia Minor). Robinson, _Biblical Researches in Palestine_, ii. 18 _sq._; Burton, _Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah & Meccah_, i. 36; Blunt, _op. cit._ ii. 212; Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, p. 297 (Bedouins). Krauss, _Die Südslaven_, p. 648.] [Footnote 127: _Baudhâyana_, iv. 2. 4.] [Footnote 128: _Âpastamba_, ii. 4. 9. 8. Bühler, in _Sacred Books of the East_, ii. 122, n. ^8] [Footnote 129: _Laws of Manu_, iv. 187, 188, 191.] [Footnote 130: _Ibid._ iv. 247 _sq._] [Footnote 131: _Tobit_, iv. 7. Kohler, in _Jewish Encyclopedia_, i. 436. _Cf._ _St. Matthew_, vi. 1 _sqq._; Brandt, _Mandäische Schriften_, pp. 28, 64: "If you give alms do not do it before witnesses." The Mandæans were also forbidden to eat food prepared by a stranger or to take a meal in his company (Brandt, _Mandäische Religion_, p. 94).] [Footnote 132: Ratzel, _op. cit._ iii. 418.] The duty of hospitality is probably always limited by time, even though, among some peoples, a guest is said to be entertained as long as he pleases to stay.[133] According {595} to Teutonic custom, a guest might tarry only up to the third day.[134] The Anglo-Saxon rule was, "Two nights a guest, the third night one of the household," that is, a slave.[135] A German proverb says, "Den ersten Tag ein Gast, den zweiten eine Last, den dritten stinkt er fast."[136] So, also, the Southern Slavs declare that "a guest and a fish smell on the third day."[137] Burckhardt states that, among the Bedouins, if the stranger intends to prolong his visit after a lapse of three days and four hours from the time of his arrival, it is expected that he should assist his host in domestic matters; should he decline this, "he may remain, but will be censured by all the Arabs of the camp."[138] The Moors say that "the hospitality of the Prophet lasts for three days"; the first night the guest is entertained most lavishly, for then, but only then, he is "the guest of God." The Prophet laid down the following rule: "Whoever believes in God and the day of resurrection, must respect his guest; and the time of being kind to him is one day and one night; and the period of entertaining him is three days; and after that, if he does it longer, he benefits him more; but it is not right for a guest to stay in the house of the host so long as to incommode him."[139] According to Javanese custom, it is a point of honour to supply a stranger with food and accommodation for a day and a night at least.[140] Among the Kalmucks special honour is paid to a stranger for one day only, whereas, if he remains longer, he is treated without ceremonies.[141] Growing familiarity with the stranger naturally tends to dispel the superstitious dread which he inspired at first, and this, combined with the feeling that it is unfair of him to live at his host's expense longer than necessity requires, seems to account for the {596} rapid decline of his extraordinary privileges and for the short duration of his title to hospitable treatment. [Footnote 133: Veniaminof, quoted by Dall, _op. cit._ p. 397 (Aleuts). Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 328. Bartram, in _Trans. American Ethn. Soc._ iii. pt. i. 42 (Creeks and Cherokee Indians).] [Footnote 134: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 400. Weinhold, _Altnordisches Leben_, p. 447.] [Footnote 135: Quoted in _Leges Edwardi Confessoris_, 23: "Tuua nicte geste þe þirdde nicte agen hine." _Cf._ _Laws of Cnut_, ii. 28; _Laws of Hlothhære and Eadric_, 15; _Leges Henrici I._ viii. 5.] [Footnote 136: Weinhold, _op. cit._ p. 447.] [Footnote 137: Krauss, _op. cit._ p. 658.] [Footnote 138: Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 101 _sq._] [Footnote 139: Lane, _Arabian Society_, p. 142 _sq._] [Footnote 140: Crawfurd, _op. cit._ i. 53.] [Footnote 141: Bergmann, _op. cit._ ii. 285.] Contrary to what is the case with other duties which men owe to their fellow-creatures, in every progressive society we find hospitality on the wane. In the later days of Greece and Rome it almost dwindled into a survival.[142] In the Middle Ages hospitality was extensively practised by high and low; it was enjoined by the tenets of Chivalry,[143] and the poorer people, also, considered it disgraceful to refuse to share their meals with a needy stranger.[144] However, in the reign of Henry IV., Thomas Occlif complains of the decline of hospitality in England; and in the middle of the Elizabethan age, Archbishop Sandys says that "it is come to pass that hospitality itself is waxen a stranger."[145] The reasons for this decline are not difficult to find. Increasing intercourse between different communities or different countries not only makes hospitality an intolerable burden, but leads to the establishment of inns, and thus hospitality becomes superfluous. It habituates the people to the sight of strangers, and, in consequence, deprives the stranger of that mystery which surrounds the lonely wanderer in an isolated district whose inhabitants have little communication with the outside world. And, finally, increase of intercourse gives rise to laws which make an individual protector needless, by placing the stranger under the protection of the State. [Footnote 142: Becker-Goll, _Charikles_, ii. 3 _sqq._ _Idem_, _Gallus_, iii. 28 _sqq._] [Footnote 143: Sainte-Palaye, _Mémoires sur l'ancienne chevalerie_, i. 310.] [Footnote 144: Wright, _Domestic Manners and Sentiments in England during the Middle Ages_, p. 329 _sqq._] [Footnote 145: Sandys, _Sermons_, p. 401.] CHAPTER XXV THE SUBJECTION OF CHILDREN FROM the modes of conduct which affect the life or bodily welfare of a fellow-creature we shall pass to those relating to personal freedom. In its absolute form the right of liberty may be granted to a perfect being, but has no existence on earth. Ever since the conduct of men became subject to moral censure, the right of doing what they pleased was _eo ipso_ denied them; and in resisting wrong men have not only in various ways interfered with the liberty of their fellow-creatures, but have considered such interference to be their right or even their duty. As to the question what conduct is wrong opinions have differed, and so also as to the proper means of interference; but with neither of these questions are we concerned at present. Nor shall I deal with the subject of political liberty, nor with such restrictions as people lay on their own freedom by contract. I shall only consider facts bearing upon that state of subjection to which large classes of individuals are doomed by custom or law, on account of their birth or other circumstances beyond their own control--the subjection of children, wives, and slaves to their parents, husbands, or masters. Among the lower races every family has its head, who exercises more or less authority over its members. In some instances where the maternal system of descent prevails, a man's children are in the power of the head of {598} their mother's family or of their maternal uncle;[1] but this is by no means the rule even among peoples who reckon kinship through females only. The facts which have been adduced as examples of the so-called "mother-right" in most instances imply, chiefly, that children are named after their mothers, not after their fathers, and that property and rank descend exclusively in the female line;[2] and this is certainly very different from a denial of paternal rights.[3] Among those Australian tribes which have the system of maternal descent the father is distinctly said to be the master of his children.[4] In Melanesia, where the clan of the children is determined by that of the mother, she is, to quote Dr. Codrington, "in no way the head of the family. The house of the family is the father's, the garden is his, the rule and government are his."[5] As regards the Iroquois--among whom, at the death of a man, his property is divided between his brothers, sisters, and mother's brothers, whilst the property of a woman is transmitted to her children and sisters[6]--we are told that the mother superintends the children, but that the word of the father is law and must be obeyed by the whole household.[7] Among the Mpongwe, who reckon kinship through the mother, the father has by law unrestricted power over his children.[8] And in Madagascar, where children generally follow the condition of the mother,[9] the commands of a father or an ancestor are, among all the tribes, "held as most sacredly binding upon his descendants."[10] Whatever might have been the case in earlier times, it is a fact beyond dispute that among the great bulk of existing savages children are in the power of {599} their father, though he may to some extent have to share his authority with the mother. [Footnote 1: Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 40 _sq._ Grosse, _Die Formen der Familie_, p. 183 _sq._ Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 51 _sq._ Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 262 _sq._] [Footnote 2: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 97.] [Footnote 3: See von Dargun, _Mutterrecht und Vaterrecht_, p. 3 _sqq._] [Footnote 4: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 60, 61, 69.] [Footnote 5: Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 34.] [Footnote 6: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 110.] [Footnote 7: Seaver, _Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison_, p. 165.] [Footnote 8: Hübbe-Schleiden, _Ethiopien_, pp. 151, 153.] [Footnote 9: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 103.] [Footnote 10: Sibree, _The Great African Island_, p. 326.] The extent of the father's power, however, is subject to great variations. Among some savage peoples, as we have seen, he may destroy his new-born child; among others infanticide is prohibited by custom. Among some he may sell his children,[11] among others such a right is expressly denied him.[12] Frequently he gives away his daughter in marriage without consulting her wishes; but in other cases her own consent is required, or she is allowed to choose her husband herself.[13] Marriage by purchase does not imply that "a girl is sold by her father in the same manner, and with the same authority, with which he would dispose of a cow."[14] It seems that the paternal authority is always in some degree limited by public opinion. Among the Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush, for instance, though the head of the house is described as an autocrat in his own family, the son, backed by public opinion, may, and does, openly quarrel with and threaten his father in cases when the father's actions have been of a particularly gross character.[15] [Footnote 11: Schadenberg, 'Negritos der Philippinen,' in _Zeitschr. f. Ethnologie_, xii. 137. Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 51 _sq._ (Bogos, Fantis, Dahomans). Paulitschke, _Ethnographie Nordost-Afrikas_, p. 189. Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 16 _sq._ (Bakwiri). Among the Banaka and Bapuku, in the Cameroons, the father may give his daughter in payment for a debt, but not his son (_ibid._ p. 31).] [Footnote 12: Kraft, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 285 (Wapokomo). Rautanen, _ibid._ p. 329 (Ondonga).] [Footnote 13: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 215 _sqq._] [Footnote 14: Leslie, _Among the Zulus and Amatongas_, p. 194. Westermarck, _op. cit._ ch. x.] [Footnote 15: Robertson, _Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 474.] The essence of dependence lies in obedience and submission. To judge from what is said about children's behaviour towards their parents, the authority of the father must among some savages be practically very slight. The South American Charruas "ne défendent rien à leurs enfans, et ceux-ci n'ont aucun respect pour leurs pères."[16] Among the Brazilian Indians, according to von Martius, respect and obedience on the part of children towards their parents are unknown.[17] {600} Among the Tarahumares of Mexico "the children grow up entirely independent, and if angry a boy may even strike his father."[18] We are told that among the Aleuts parents "scarcely ever enjoy so much authority as to compel their own children to shew them the least obedience, or to go a single step in their service";[19] but this does not seem to hold good of all of their tribes.[20] Of the Kamchadales Steller states that the children insult their parents with all sorts of bad talk, stand in no fear of them, obey them in nothing, and are consequently never commanded to do anything, nor punished.[21] [Footnote 16: Azara, _Voyages dans l'Amérique méridionale_, ii. 23.] [Footnote 17: von Martius, in _Jour. Roy. Geo. Soc._ ii. 199. _Cf._ Southey, _History of Brazil_, iii. 387 (Guaycurus).] [Footnote 18: Lumholtz, _Unknown Mexico_, p. 275.] [Footnote 19: Georgi, _Russia_, iii. 212.] [Footnote 20: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, 'Report on Alaska,' in _Tenth Census of the United States_, pp. 155, 158.] [Footnote 21: Steller, _Beschreibung von dem Lande Kamtschatka_, p. 353. _Cf._ Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 158.] Other savages, again, are by no means deficient in filial piety.[22] [Footnote 22: Im Thurn, _Among the Indians of Guiana_, p. 213. Schwaner, _Borneo_, i. 162 (Malays of the Barito River in Borneo). Worcester, _Philippine Islands_, p. 481. Lewin, _Hill Tracts of Chittagong_, p. 102 (Kukis). Vámbéry, _Türkenvolk_, p. 268 (Kara-Kirghiz). Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 67; Hunter, _Annals of Rural Bengal_, iii. 72 (Kandhs). Granville and Roth, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxviii. 109 (Jekris of the Warri District of the Niger Coast Protectorate). Stuhlmann, _Mit Emin Pascha ins Herz von Afrika_, p. 801 (Latuka).] Among various Eskimo[23] and North American Indian tribes[24] children are described as very obedient to their parents. Parry says of the Eskimo of Winter Island and Igloolik that disobedience is scarcely ever known, and that "a word or even a look from a parent is enough."[25] The Potawatomis hold the violation of the advice and directions of their parents one of the most atrocious crimes.[26] In Tonga "filial duty is a most important duty and appears to be universally felt."[27] One of the chief duties which the Ainos taught their children was obedience to parents.[28] Among the Central Asiatic Turks a son, whilst young, behaves as if he were his father's slave.[29] Among the {601} Ossetes "the authority of the head of the family, whether grandfather, father, stepfather, uncle, or elder brother, is submitted to unconditionally; the young men never sit in his presence, nor speak with a loud voice, nor contradict him."[30] Among the Barea and Kunáma "a father and a mother are respected to the utmost degree. A son never dares to contradict his parents nor oppose their commands, however unjust they be. The mother particularly is much beloved and tenderly cared for at her old age."[31] Among the Mandingoes children "have a great veneration for their parents," and "would feel extreme reluctance to disobey their father."[32] Of the Bachapins, a Bechuana tribe, it is said that **"filial obedience is strenuously enforced."[33] Among the Kafirs "any one who should fail in respect for his father, or show any neglect of him, would draw on himself the contempt of the whole horde; there have been even instances in which want of filial duty has been punished with infamy and banishment."[34] [Footnote 23: Hall, _Arctic Researches_, p. 568. Boas, 'Central Eskimo,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ vi. 566. Murdoch, 'Ethnol. Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' _ibid._ ix. 417. Turner, 'Ethnology of the Ungava District,' _ibid._ xi. 191 (Koksoagmyut).] [Footnote 24: Turner, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xi. 269 (Hudson Bay Indians). Heriot, _Travels through the Canadas_, p. 530. Harmon, _Journal of Voyages_, p. 347 (Indians on the east side of the Rocky Mountains).] [Footnote 25: Parry, _Journal of a Second Voyage for the Discovery of a North-West Passage_, p. 530.] [Footnote 26: Keating, _Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River_, i. 127.] [Footnote 27: Mariner, _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 179.] [Footnote 28: Batchelor, _Ainu and their Folk-Lore_, p. 254.] [Footnote 29: Vámbéry, _op. cit._ p. 226.] [Footnote 30: von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 414 _sq._] [Footnote 31: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 474.] [Footnote 32: Caillié, _Travels through Central Africa_, i. 352 _sq._] [Footnote 33: Burchell, _Travels in the Interior of Southern Africa_, ii. 557.] [Footnote 34: Lichtenstein, _Travels in Southern Africa_, i. 265. Alberti, _De Kaffers aan de Zuidkust van Afrika_, p. 116 _sqq._ Shooter, _Kafirs of Natal_, p. 98.] The period during which the paternal authority lasts varies. The daughter is in her father's power till she marries, and as a rule no longer;[35] but in some instances his authority over her continues even after her marriage.[36] This, we have reason to believe, is particularly the case when the husband, on marrying, does not take his wife to his own home, but goes himself to live with her in the house or community of her father.[37] A father's authority over his son frequently comes to an end as the young man {602} grows up. Among the Fuegians a son becomes independent of his parents at a very early age, being allowed to leave their wigwam if he pleases.[38] Among the Togiagamutes, an Eskimo tribe, "the youth, as soon as he is able to build a kaiak and to support himself, no longer observes any family ties but goes where his fancy takes him."[39] Of the Australian natives it is said that sons become independent when they have gone through the ceremonies by which they attain to the _status_ of manhood;[40] among the Bangerang tribe of Victoria "after his twelfth year or so the boy was very little subject to the father, though parental affection always endured."[41] Among the Bedouins "the young man, as soon as it is in his power, emancipates himself from the father's authority, still paying him some deference as long as he continues in his tent; but whenever he can become master of a tent himself (to obtain which is his constant endeavour), he listens to no advice, nor obeys any earthly command but that of his own will."[42] That a son is emancipated from the father's power by getting full-grown or by leaving the household is probably the rule among the great majority of the lower races.[43] But here again instances to the contrary are not wanting.[44] In Flores the sons even of rich families are dressed like slaves at public feasts, so long as the father lives, as also at his funeral. This, our authority adds, is apparently the external sign of a strict _patria potestas_, which remains in force till the funeral; until then the son is the father's slave.[45] [Footnote 35: See, _e.g._, Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 17 (Bakwiri); Fama Mademba, _ibid._ p. 65 (natives of the Sansanding States); Nicole, _ibid._ p. 100 (Diakité); Lang, _ibid._ p. 224 (Washambala); Kraft, _ibid._ p. 286 (Wapokomo); Marx, _ibid._ p. 349 (Amahlubi); Sorge, _ibid._ p. 404 (Nissan Islanders of the Bismarck Archipelago).] [Footnote 36: See, _e.g._, Beverley, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 206. What is said, _ibid._ p. 31, concerning the Banaka and Bapuku does not seem to agree with the statement p. 30, that the husband is the head of his household and the possessor of his wives.] [Footnote 37: _Cf._ Mazzarella, _La condizione giuridica del marito nella famiglia matriarcale_, _passim_; _infra_, on the Subjection of Wives. The point in question, like the whole subject of the father's authority among the lower races, requires much further investigation.] [Footnote 38: Bove, _Patagonia, Terra del Fuoco_, p. 133.] [Footnote 39: Petroff, _loc. cit._ p. 135.] [Footnote 40: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 61.] [Footnote 41: _Idem_, _Recollections of Squatting in Victoria_, p. 248.] [Footnote 42: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 201.] [Footnote 43: For other instances, see Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 36; Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 51 (Somals); Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 17 (Bakwiri); Nicole, _ibid._ p. 100 (Diakité); Beverley, _ibid._ p. 206 (Wagogo); Marx, _ibid._ p. 349 (Amahlubi); Sorge, _ibid._ p. 404 (Nissan Islanders).] [Footnote 44: Sarbah, _Fanti Customary Laws_, p. 5. Stuhlmann, _op. cit._ p. 801 (Latuka). Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 31 (Banaka and Bapuku). Fama Mademba, _ibid._ p. 65 (natives of the Sansanding States). Kraft, _ibid._ p. 286 (Wapokomo), Abercromby, _Pre- and Proto-historic Finns_, i. 181 (Mordvins).] [Footnote 45: von Martens, quoted by Nieboer, _Slavery as an Industrial System_, p. 26, n. 2.] {603} However, the expiration of the paternal power, in the proper sense of the term, does not necessarily imply the loss of all authority over the children. The father, at all events, retains the rights incident to his superior age, and among many uncivilised peoples these are great. Old age commands respect and gives authority. Among the Fuegians "in each family the word of an old man is accepted as law by the young people; they never dispute his authority."[46] The Patagonians "pay respect to old people, taking great care of them."[47] The Caribs "portent un grand respect aus vieillards."[48] The same is the case among many of the North American Indians.[49] Among the Naudowessies, whilst the advice of a father will seldom meet with any extraordinary attention from the young Indians, "they will tremble before a grandfather, and submit to his injunctions with the utmost alacrity. The words of the ancient part of their community are esteemed by the young as oracles."[50] Among the Eskimo about Behring Strait the old men are listened to with respect;[51] and among the Point Barrow Eskimo "respect for the opinions of elders is so great that the people may be said to be practically under what is called 'simple elder rule.'"[52] Among the Veddahs of Ceylon the oldest man "is regarded with a sort of patriarchal respect when accident or occasion has brought together any others than the members of one family."[53] Among the Jakuts an old man is implicitly obeyed as a father of a family; "a young man ever gives his opinion with the greatest respect and caution; and even when asked, he submits his ideas to the judgment of the old."[54] Regard for the aged is found among the Ainos,[55] Kurilians,[56] Mongols,[57] Ossetes,[58] {604} Kukis,[59] Nicobarese,[60] Negritos of the Philippine Islands,[61] Papuans of New Guinea[62] New Caledonians,[63] Caroline Islanders,[64] Tonga Islanders,[65] and, in a remarkable degree, among the Australian aborigines.[66] "Among the Kurnai," says Mr. Howitt, "age meets with great reverence. . . . It may be stated as a general rule that authority attaches to age. It follows from this that there is no hereditary authority and no hereditary chieftain. The authority which is inherent in age attaches not alone to the man, but also to the woman." And he justly adds that this principle regulating authority seems to be, not peculiar to the Kurnai, but general to the whole Australian race.[67] [Footnote 46: King and Fitzroy, _Voyages of the "Adventure" and "Beagle,"_ ii. 179.] [Footnote 47: _Ibid._ ii. 172.] [Footnote 48: de Poircy-de Rochefort, _Histoire des Isles Antilles_, p. 461.] [Footnote 49: Buchanan, _North American Indians_, p. 7. Prescott, in Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, ii. 196.] [Footnote 50: Carver, _Travels through the Interior Parts of North America_, p. 243.] [Footnote 51: Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 304.] [Footnote 52: Murdoch, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 427.] [Footnote 53: Hartshorne, 'Weddas,' in _Indian Antiquary_, viii. 320. _Cf._ Deschamps, _Carnet d'un voyageur_, p. 395.] [Footnote 54: Sauer, _Billings' Expedition to the Northern Parts of Russia_, p. 124.] [Footnote 55: Batchelor, _Ainu and their Folk-Lore_, p. 254. von Siebold, _Ethnol. Studien über die Aino auf der Insel Yesso_, p. 25.] [Footnote 56: Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, p. 236.] [Footnote 57: Prejevalsky, _Mongolia_, i. 71.] [Footnote 58: von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 414. Strabo (xi. 4. 8) reports the same of the Albanians of the Eastern Caucasus.] [Footnote 59: Lewin, _Hill Tracts of Chittagong_, p. 102.] [Footnote 60: Kloss, _In the Andamans and Nicobars_, p. 243.] [Footnote 61: Schadenberg, in _Zeitschr. f. Ethnol._ xii. 135. Earl, _Papuans_, p. 133. Foreman, _Philippine Islands_, p. 209.] [Footnote 62: Earl, _op. cit._ p. 81.] [Footnote 63: Atkinson, in _Folk-Lore_, xiv. 248.] [Footnote 64: Christian, _Caroline Islands_, p. 72. Angas, _Polynesia_, p. 382.] [Footnote 65: Mariner, _op. cit._ ii. 155.] [Footnote 66: Roth, _North-West-Central Queensland Aborigines_, p. 141. Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 5. Schuermann, 'Aboriginal Tribes of Port Lincoln,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 226. Hale _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 113. Mitchell, _Expeditions into the Interior of Eastern Australia_, ii. 346. Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, i. 137 _sq._ See also Steinmetz, _Ethnol. Studien zur Entwicklungsgeschichte der Strafe_, ii. 26 _sqq._] [Footnote 67: Fison and Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 211 _sq._] Turning to African peoples: among the Danakil the aged of both sexes, but especially the males, are held in great veneration, and the old men are consulted on every occasion of any importance.[68] "The real religion of the Barea and Kunáma," says Munzinger, "consists in an extraordinary reverence for old age. Among these peoples only the old, the weak, or the blind command respect."[69] The E[(w]e-speaking peoples on the Slave Coast have a proverb, "Respect the elders, they are our fathers."[70] Winterbottom doubts whether the ancient Lacedæmonians paid greater regard to old age than do the natives of Sierra Leone.[71] Mr. Leighton Wilson says of the Mpongwe:--"There is no part of the world where respect and veneration for age is carried to a greater length than among this people. . . . All the younger members of society are early trained to show the utmost deference to age. They must never come into the presence of aged persons or pass by their dwellings without taking off their hats and assuming a crouching gait. When seated in their presence {605} it must always be at a 'respectful distance'--a distance proportioned to the difference in their ages and position in society. If they come near enough to hand an aged man a lighted pipe or a glass of water, the bearer must always fall upon one knee. Aged persons must always be addressed as 'father' (_rera_) or 'mother' (_ngwe_). Any disrespectful deportment or reproachful language toward such persons is regarded as a misdemeanour of no ordinary aggravation. A youthful person carefully avoids communicating any disagreeable intelligence to such persons, and almost always addresses them in terms of flattery and adulation."[72] Among the For tribe of Central Africa "great consideration is shown towards women when they are old, as well as towards aged men."[73] Regard for old age is, in fact, a very general trait of the African character.[74] [Footnote 68: Scaramucci and Giglioli, 'Notizie sui _Danakil_,' in _Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia_, xiv. 36.] [Footnote 69: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 474.] [Footnote 70: Ellis, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples_, p. 268.] [Footnote 71: Winterbottom, _Native Africans in the Neighbourhood of Sierra Leone_, i. 211.] [Footnote 72: Wilson, _Western Africa_, p. 392 _sq._] [Footnote 73: Felkin, 'Notes on the For Tribe of Central Africa,' in _Proceed. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh_, xiii. 224 _sq._] [Footnote 74: Monrad, _Bidrag til en Skildring af Guinea-Kysten_, p. 37 (Negroes of Accra). Granville and Roth, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxviii. 109 (Jekris). Kingsley, _Travels in West Africa_, p. 460 (Calabar tribes). Caillié, _op. cit._ i. 352 (Mandingoes). Stuhlmann, _op. cit._ pp. 789, 801 (Latuka). Casati, _Ten Years in Equatoria_, i. 186. Chanler, _Through Jungle and Desert_, p. 246 (Embe). New, _Life, Wanderings, and Labours in Eastern Africa_, p. 101 (Wanika). Johnston, _Kilima-njaro Expedition_, p. 419 (Masai). Arnot, _Garenganze_, p. 78, note. Lichtenstein, _op. cit._ i. 265; Alberti, _op. cit._ p. 118; Shooter, _op. cit._ p. 98 (Kafirs). Schinz, _Deutsch-Südwest-Afrika_, p. 82 (Hottentots).] Not only old age, but superiority of age, gives a certain amount of power. The Australian natives have a well-regulated order of precedence and authority. "When the individual reaches the full development of puberty, he or she undergoes a ceremony which entitles him or her on its successful completion to a certain social rank or _status_ in the community. As life progresses, other and higher ranks are progressively attainable for each sex, until the highest and most honourable grade, that enjoyed by an old man, or an old woman, is reached."[75] All North American Indians "hold that superior age gives authority; and every person is taught from childhood to obey his superiors and to rule over his inferiors. The superiors are those of greater age; the inferiors, those who are younger."[76] The same influence of age makes itself felt in the relations between elder {606} and younger brothers and sisters.[77] Navaho myths indicate that "even among twins, the younger must defer to the elder."[78] The eldest brother comes next to the father in authority, and, in case of his death, succeeds him as the head of the family. The Aleuts described by Father Veniaminof maintained that "if one had no father he should respect his oldest brother and serve him as he would a father."[79] Among the Kalmucks "the elder brother is the despot of the younger ones, and is even allowed to punish them."[80] In Madagascar so great respect is paid to seniority "that if two slaves who are brothers are going a journey, any burden must be carried by the younger one, so far at least as his strength will allow."[81] In Tonga custom decrees "that all persons shall be in the service of their older and superior relations, if those relations think proper to employ them"; and every chief shows the greatest regard for his eldest sister.[82] Among the Hottentots "the highest oath a man could take and still takes, was to swear by his eldest sister, and if he should abuse this name, the sister will walk into his flock and take his finest cows and sheep, and no law could prevent her from doing so."[83] Among the Point Barrow Eskimo, again, "seniority gives precedence when there are several women in one hut, and the sway of the elder in the direction of everything connected with her duties seems never disputed."[84] [Footnote 75: Roth, _op. cit._ p. 169. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 65 _sq._; Eyre, _Journals of Expeditions of Discovery into Central Australia_, ii. 315.] [Footnote 76: Powell, 'Sociology,' in _American Anthropologist_, N. S. i. 700. _Cf._ _Idem_, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. p. lviii.] [Footnote 77: Nachtigal, _Sahara und Sudan_, i. 450 (Tedâ). Chavanne, _Die Sahara_, p. 396 (Arabs of the Sahara). Paulitschke, _op. cit._ p. 192 (Gallas). von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 415 (Ossetes). Bach, 'Die Wotjaken,' in _Acta Societatis Scientiarum Fennicæ_, xii. 489 (Votyaks). Sumner, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 75 (Jakuts). Batchelor, _Ainu and their Folk-Lore_, p. 254.] [Footnote 78: Matthews, 'Study of Ethics among the Lower Races,' in _Journal of American Folk-Lore_, xii. 9.] [Footnote 79: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _loc. cit._ p. 155.] [Footnote 80: Bergmann, _Nomadische Streifereien unter den Kalmüken_, ii. 305.] [Footnote 81: Sibree, _op. cit._ p. 182.] [Footnote 82: Mariner, _op. cit._ i. 226; ii. 155.] [Footnote 83: Hahn, _The Supreme Being of the Khoi-Khoi_, p. 21.] [Footnote 84: Simpson, quoted by Murdoch, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 427.] It must be added, however, that the reverence for old age may cease when the grey-head gets so old as to be an incumbrance to those around him;[85] and imbecility may put an end to the father's authority over his family.[86] We have previously noticed that parents worn out with age {607} and disease are among some peoples killed or abandoned by their own children.[87] [Footnote 85: Curr, _Squatting in Victoria_, pp. 254. 245, 265 _sqq._; Eyre, _op. cit._ ii. 316 (Australian aborigines). Sumner, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 76 (Jakuts). Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 177 _sq._ (Greenlanders). _Supra_, p. 534.] [Footnote 86: Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 31 (Banaka and Bapuku).] [Footnote 87: _Supra_, p. 386 _sq._] When passing from the savage and barbarous races of men to those next above them in civilisation, we find paternal, or parental, authority and filial reverence at their height. In ancient Mexico "necessitous parents were allowed to dispose of any one of their children, in order to relieve their poverty," whereas a master could not sell a well-behaved slave without his consent.[88] A youth was seldom permitted to choose a wife for himself, but was expected to abide by the selection of his parents;[89] and "children were bred to stand so much in awe of their parents that even when grown up and married they hardly durst speak before them."[90] So, too, in Nicaragua a father might sell his children as slaves in cases of great necessity,[91] and matches were in the larger part of the country arranged by the parents.[92] In ancient Peru disobedient children were publicly chastised by their own parents;[93] and Inca Pachacutec confirmed the law that sons should obey and serve their fathers until they reached the age of twenty-five, and that none should marry without the consent of the parents and of the parents of the girl.[94] [Footnote 88: Clavigero, _History of Mexico_, i. 360.] [Footnote 89: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 226.] [Footnote 90: Clavigero, _op. cit._ i. 331.] [Footnote 91: Squier, _Nicaragua_, p. 345.] [Footnote 92: Bancroft, _Native Races of the Pacific States_, ii. 667.] [Footnote 93: Herrera, _General History of the West Indies_, iv. 339.] [Footnote 94: Garcilasso de la Vega, _First Part of the Royal Commentaries of the Yncas_, ii. 207.] In China a house-father reigns almost supreme in his family, and, according to ancient Chinese ideas, not even marriage withdraws the son from his power.[95] The law, it is true, prohibits him from killing[96] or selling[97] his children; but it is only in supreme cases that the State interferes between the head of a household and his family belongings, and the sale of children is practically allowed.[98] No person, of whatever age, can act for himself in matrimonial {608} matters during the lifetime or in the neighbourhood of his parents or near senior kinsfolk.[99] The law provides that disobedience to the instructions and commands of parents or paternal grandparents shall be punished with one hundred blows,[100] and that a still greater punishment shall be inflicted on a son accusing his father or mother and on a grandson accusing his paternal grandparent, even though the accusation prove true.[101] Indeed, from earliest youth the Chinese lad is imbued with such respect for his parents that it becomes at last a religious sentiment, and forms, as he gets older, the basis of his only creed--the worship of ancestors.[102] Confucianism itself has been briefly described as "an expansion of the root idea of filial piety."[103] The Master said:--"filial piety is the root of all virtue, and the stem out of which grows all moral teaching. . . . Filial piety is the constant method of Heaven, the righteousness of Earth, and the practical duty of Man. . . . Of all the actions of man there is none greater than filial piety. In filial piety there is nothing greater than the reverential awe of one's father. In the reverential awe shown to one's father there is nothing greater than the making him the correlate of Heaven."[104] But the idea that filial piety is the fundamental duty of man was not originated by Confucius, it had obtained a firm hold of the national mind long before his time.[105] It also prevails in Corea[106] and Japan,[107] where the authority of a house-father is, or, in the case of Japan, until lately has been,[108] as great as in China. "The Japanese maiden, as pure as the purest Christian virgin, will at the command of her father enter the brothel to-morrow, and prostitute herself for life. Not a murmur escapes her lips {609} as she thus filially obeys."[109] In Corea, whilst the first thing inculcated in a child's mind is respect for his father, little respect is felt for the mother; the child soon learns that a mother's authority is next to nothing.[110] [Footnote 95: de Groot, _Religious System of China_ (vol. ii. book) i. 507.] [Footnote 96: _Supra_, p. 393.] [Footnote 97: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cclxxv. p. 292.] [Footnote 98: Douglas, _Society in China_, p. 78. Staunton, in his translation of _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, p. 292 n. * Doolittle, _Social Life of the Chinese_, ii. 209.] [Footnote 99: Medhurst, 'Marriage, Affinity, and Inheritance in China,' in _Trans. Roy. Asiatic Soc. China Branch_, iv. 11.] [Footnote 100: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cccxxxviii. p. 374.] [Footnote 101: _Ibid._ sec. cccxxxvii. p. 371 _sq._] [Footnote 102: Wells Williams, _Middle Kingdom_, i. 646.] [Footnote 103: Griffis, _Corea_, p. 328 _sq._] [Footnote 104: _Hsiáo King_, 1, 7, 9 (_Sacred Books of the East_, iii. 446, 473, 476).] [Footnote 105: Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 118.] [Footnote 106: Griffis, _Corea_, pp. 236, 259.] [Footnote 107: Rein, _Japan_, p. 427. Griffis, _Religions of Japan_, p. 122 _sq._] [Footnote 108: Griffis, _Religions of Japan_, p. 148.] [Footnote 109: _Idem_, _Mikado's Empire_, p. 555. _Cf._ Rein, _Japan_, p. 427.] [Footnote 110: Griffis, _Corea_, p. 259.] It is the general opinion of Assyriologists that in ancient Chaldæa, at least in the early period of its history, the father had absolute authority over all the members of his household.[111] Anything undertaken by them without his consent was held invalid in the eyes of the law,[112] and a disobedient son might be sold as a slave.[113] According to the Laws of [Hv]ammurabi, a man might give his son or daughter as a hostage for debts;[114] but he could not disown his children at discretion. It is said that if he wishes to cut off his son he must declare his intention to the judge, whereupon "the judge shall enquire into his reasons, and if the son has not committed a heavy crime which cuts off from sonship, the father shall not cut off his son from sonship."[115] Professor Hommel believes that the mother's authority over her children was as great as the father's,[116] whereas Meissner concludes that it was less, from the fact that her children are not seldom found to be at law with her in matters of succession.[117] Among the Hebrews a father might sell his child to relieve his own distress, or offer it to a creditor as a pledge.[118] He had not only unlimited power to marry his daughters, but even to sell them as maids into concubinage, though not to a foreign people.[119] He also chose wives for his sons;[120] and there is no indication that the subjection of sons ceased after a certain age.[121] How important were the duties of the child to the {610} parents is shown in the primitive typical relation of Isaac to Abraham, and may be at once learned from the placing of the law on the subject among the Ten Commandments, and from its position there in the immediate proximity to the commands relating to the duties of man towards God.[122] Philo Judæus observes that it occupies this position because parents are something between divine and human nature, partaking of both--of human nature inasmuch as it is plain that they have been born and that they will die, and of divine nature because they have engendered other beings, and have brought what did not exist into existence. What God is to the world, that parents are to their children; they are "the visible gods."[123] In Muhammedan countries parents have practically great authority over their children. Should a father exceed the bounds of moderation or justice in chastising his son, the idea of prosecuting him would hardly occur to anyone, the injured party being prevented by public opinion, if not by habit and feeling, from appealing against his own father.[124] Disobedience to parents is considered by Moslems as one of the greatest of sins, and is put, in point of heinousness, on a par with idolatry, murder, and desertion in an expedition against infidels. "An undutiful child," says Mr. Lane, "is very seldom heard of among the Egyptians or the Arabs in general. . . . Sons scarcely sit or eat or smoke in the presence of the father, unless bidden to do so."[125] In Morocco it is curious to see big, grown-up sons sneak away as soon as they hear their father's steps, or to notice their absolute reticence in his presence. Children's deference for their mothers is less formal, but almost equally great.[126] [Footnote 111: Oppert, in _Göttingische gelehrte Anzeigen_, 1879, p. 1604 _sqq._ Hommel, _Die semitischen Völker und Sprachen_, i. 416. Meissner, _Beiträge zum altbabylonischen Privatrecht_, p. 14 _sq._] [Footnote 112: Maspero, _Dawn of Civilization_, p. 134.] [Footnote 113: Hommel, _op. cit._ i. 416. Meissner, _op. cit._ p. 1.] [Footnote 114: _Laws of [Hv]ammurabi_, 117.] [Footnote 115: _Ibid._ 168.] [Footnote 116: Hommel, _op. cit._ i. 416.] [Footnote 117: Meissner, _op. cit._ p. 15.] [Footnote 118: Ewald, _Antiquities of Israel_, p. 190. Wellhausen, _Prolegomena to the History of Israel_, p. 465.] [Footnote 119: _Exodus_, xxi. 7 _sq._] [Footnote 120: _Genesis_, xxiv. 4; xxviii. 1 _sq._ _Exodus_, xxxiv. 16. _Deuteronomy_, vii, 3.] [Footnote 121: _Cf._ Michaelis, _Commentaries on the Laws of Moses_, i. 444.] [Footnote 122: _Cf._ Ewald, _op. cit._ p. 188; Gans, _Das Erbrecht in weltgeschichtlicher Entwickelung_, i. 134.] [Footnote 123: Philo Judæus, _Opera_, i. 759 _sqq._] [Footnote 124: Urquhart, _Spirit of the East_, ii. 440 _sq._] [Footnote 125: Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 70. _Cf._ Pool, _Studies in Mohammedanism_, p. 171.] [Footnote 126: _Cf._ Urquhart, _op. cit._ ii. 265 _sq._] Among the ancient Romans, in relation to the house-father, "all in the household were destitute of legal rights--the wife and the child no less than the bullock or the {611} slave."[127] The father not only had judicial authority over his children--implying the right of inflicting capital punishment on them[128]--but he could sell them at discretion.[129] Even the grown-up son and his children were subject to the house-father's authority,[130] and in marriage without _conventio in manum_ a daughter remained in the power of her father or tutor even after marriage.[131] Filial piety, including reverence not only for the father but for the mother also, was regarded as a most sacred duty.[132] To the ancient Roman the parents were hardly less sacred beings than the gods.[133] [Footnote 127: Mommsen, _History of Rome_, i. 74.] [Footnote 128: _Supra_, p. 393.] [Footnote 129: Dionysius of Halicarnassus, _Antiquitates Romanæ_, ii. 27.] [Footnote 130: _Institutiones_, i. 9. 3.] [Footnote 131: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 230.] [Footnote 132: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 11 _sqq._ _Idem_, _Alt-arisches Jus Gentium_, p. 185.] [Footnote 133: Valerius Maximus, i. 1. 13: "Pari vindicta parentum ac deorum violatio expianda est." Servius, _In Virgilii Georgicon_, ii. 473: "Sacra deorum sancta apud illos sunt, sancti etiam parentes."] It has been suggested by Sir Henry Maine and others that the _patria potestas_ of the Romans was a survival of the paternal authority which existed among the primitive Aryans.[134] But no clear evidence of the general prevalence of such unlimited authority among other so-called Aryan peoples has been adduced. The ancient jurist observed, "The power which we have over our children is peculiar to Roman citizens; for there are no other nations possessing the same power over their children as we have over ours."[135] That among the Greeks and Teutons the father had the right to expose his children in their infancy, to sell them, in case of urgency, as long as they remained in his power,[136] and to give away his daughters in marriage,[137] does not imply the possession of a sovereignty like that which the Roman house-father exercised over his descendants of all ages. In Greece[138] and among all the Teutonic {612} nations[139] the father's authority over his sons came to an end when the son grew up and left his home. But here again we must distinguish between the legal rights of parents and the duties of children. There are numerous passages in the Greek writings which put filial piety on a par with the duties towards the gods.[140] [Footnote 134: Maine, _Ancient Law_, p. 138. Fustel de Coulanges, _La cité antique_, p. 96 _sqq._ Hearn, _Aryan Household_, p. 92.] [Footnote 135: _Institutiones_, i. 9. 2.] [Footnote 136: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 60 _sq._ Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 461 _sq._ Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. 76. In France the parents' right of selling their children gradually disappeared under the kings of the third race (de Laurière, in Loysel, _Institutes coutumières_, i. 82).] [Footnote 137: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 232 _sqq._] [Footnote 138: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 62 _sq._ Cauvet, 'De l'organisation de la famille à Athènes,' in _Revue de législation_, xxiv. 138.] [Footnote 139: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 462. Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. 75 _sq._] [Footnote 140: Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 141 _sq._] Nor is there any evidence that the _patria potestas_ of the Roman type ever prevailed in full in India, great though the father's or parent's authority has been, and still is, among the Hindus.[141] Among the Vedic people the father seems to have been the head of the family only as long as he was able to be its protector and maintainer,[142] decrepit parents being even allowed to die of starvation.[143] According to some sacred books from a later age, the father and the mother have power to give, to sell, and to abandon their son, because "man formed of uterine blood and virile seed proceeds from his mother and his father as an effect from its cause"; however, an only son may not be given or received in adoption, nor is a woman allowed to give or receive a son except with her husband's permission.[144] In other books it is said that "the gift or acceptance of a child and the right to sell or buy a child are not recognised,"[145] and that he who casts off his son--unless the son be guilty of a crime causing loss of caste--shall be fined by the king six hundred _panas_.[146] But whatever be the legal rights of a parent, filial piety is a most stringent duty in the child.[147] A man has three Atigurus, or specially venerable superiors: his father, mother, and spiritual teacher. To them he must always pay obedience. He must do what is agreeable and serviceable to them. He must never do anything without their leave.[148] "By honouring these three all that ought to be done by man is accomplished; {613} that is clearly the highest duty, every other act is a subordinate duty."[149] Similar feelings prevail among the modern Hindus.[150] Sir W. H. Sleeman observes, "There is no part of the world, I believe, where parents are so much reverenced by their sons as they are in India in all classes of society." The duty of daughters is from the day of their marriage transferred entirely to their husbands and their husbands' parents, but between the son and his parents the reciprocity of rights and duties which have bound together the parent and child from infancy follows them to the grave. The sons are often actually tyrannised over by their mothers.[151] [Footnote 141: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 231 _sq._] [Footnote 142: _Rig-Veda_, i. 70. 5.] [Footnote 143: Zimmer, _Altindisches Leben_, p. 328.] [Footnote 144: _Vasishtha_, xv. 1 _sqq._ _Baudhâyana Parisishta_, vii. 5. 2 _sqq._] [Footnote 145: _Âpastamba_, ii. 6. 13. 11.] [Footnote 146: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 389. _Cf._ _ibid._ xi. 60.] [Footnote 147: _Âpastamba_, i. 4. 14. 6. _Laws of Manu_, ii. 225 _sqq._; iv. 162; &c.] [Footnote 148: _Institutes of Vishnu_, ch. 31.] [Footnote 149: _Laws of Manu_, ii. 237.] [Footnote 150: Nelson, _View of the Hind[=u] Law_, p. 56 _sq._ Ghani, 'Social Life and Morality in India,' in _International Journal of Ethics_, vii. 312.] [Footnote 151: Sleeman, _Rambles and Recollections of an Indian Official_, i. 330 _sqq._] According to ancient Russian laws, fathers had great power over their children;[152] but it is not probable that a son could be sold as a slave.[153] Baron von Haxthausen, who wrote before the Emancipation in 1861, says that "the patriarchal government, feelings, and organisation are in full activity in the life, manners, and customs of the Great Russians. The same unlimited authority which the father exercises over all his children is possessed by the mother over her daughters."[154] It was a common custom for a father to marry his young sons to full-grown women; and in Poland also, according to Nestor, a father used to select a bride for his son.[155] According to Professor Bogi[vs]i['c], the power of the father is not so great among the Southern Slavs as among the Russians;[156] but a son is not permitted to make a proposal of marriage to a girl against the will of his parents, whilst a daughter, of course, enjoys still less freedom of disposing of her own hand.[157] According to a Slavonian maxim, "a father is like an earthly god to his son."[158] [Footnote 152: Accurse, quoted by de Laurière, in Loysel, _op. cit._ i. 82.] [Footnote 153: Macieiowski, _Slavische Rechtsgeschichte_, iv. 404.] [Footnote 154: von Haxthausen, _Russian Empire_, ii. 229 _sq._] [Footnote 155: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 234. Macieiowski, _op. cit._ ii. 189.] [Footnote 156: Maine, _Early Law and Custom_, p. 244, note.] [Footnote 157: Krauss, _Sitte und Brauch der Südslaven_, pp. 314, 320.] [Footnote 158: Maine, _Early Law and Custom_, p. 243.] {614} Among this group of peoples, also, we meet with reverence for the elder brother, for persons of a superior age generally, and, especially, for the aged. Obedience on the part of the younger to the elder brother is strongly inculcated by Confucianism and Taouism.[159] In ancient China the eldest son of the principal wife held so high a position that even his own father had to mourn for him at his death in the selfsame degree in which the son was bound to mourn for his father;[160] and in some provinces of Japan the elder brother or sister did not even go to the funeral of the younger.[161] In Babylonia the elder brother occupied a privileged position in the family in relation to the younger.[162] In one of the Mandæan writings it is said, "Honour your father and your mother and your elder brother as your father."[163] According to the sacred books of the Hindus, "the feet of elder brothers and sisters must be embraced, according to the order of their seniority";[164] "towards a sister of one's father and of one's mother, and towards one's own elder sister, one must behave as towards one's mother," though the mother is more venerable than they.[165] [Footnote 159: Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, pp. 123, 124, 259. Griffis, _Religions of Japan_, p. 125 _sq._] [Footnote 160: de Groot, _op. cit._ (vol. ii. book) i. 509.] [Footnote 161: Griffis, _Religions of Japan_, p. 127.] [Footnote 162: Hommel, _op. cit._ i. 417 _sq._] [Footnote 163: Brandt, _Mandäische Schriften_, p. 64.] [Footnote 164: _Âpastamba_, i. 4. 14. 9. _Cf._ _ibid._ i. 4. 14. 14; _Laws of Manu_, ii. 225.] [Footnote 165: _Laws of Manu_, ii. 133.] Again, in ancient Mexico respect was paid not only by children to their parents but by the young to the old.[166] Among the Yucatans "the young reverenced much the aged."[167] In China persons of the lowest class who have attained to an unusual age have not infrequently been distinguished by the Emperor,[168] and even criminals with grey hairs are treated with regard.[169] "Respect for elders," says Mencius, "is the working of righteousness";[170] and it is said in Thâi Shang that the good man "will respect the old and cherish the young."[171] A Japanese proverb runs, "Regard an old man as thy father."[172] We read in Leviticus, "Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man, and fear thy God."[173] Veneration {615} for the aged is emphatically inculcated by Islam.[174] In the sacred books of India it is represented as a virtue.[175] Herodotus states that the Egyptians resembled the Lacedæmonians in the reverence the young men paid to their elders.[176] Plato says in his 'Laws' that everybody ought to consider that the elder has the precedence of the younger in honour, both among the gods as also among men who would live in security and happiness; wherefore it is a foolish thing and hateful to the gods to see an elder man assaulted by a younger in the city. Everybody ought to regard a person who is twenty years older than himself, whether male or female, as his father or mother, and to abstain from laying hands on any such person "out of reverence to the gods who preside over birth."[177] Regard for old age lies behind such words as _presbyter_ and the Anglo-Saxon _ealdormonn_; and all travellers among the Southern Slavs have noticed their extraordinary respect for old people.[178] [Footnote 166: Clavigero, _op. cit._ i. 8l. _Cf._ _ibid._ i. 332.] [Footnote 167: Landa, _Relacion de las cosas de Yucatan_, p. 178.] [Footnote 168: Davis, _China_, ii. 97.] [Footnote 169: Wells Williams, _Middle Empire_, i. 805.] [Footnote 170: Mencius, vii. 1. 15. 3.] [Footnote 171: _Thâi Shang_, 3.] [Footnote 172: Griffis, _Mikado's Empire_, p. 505.] [Footnote 173: _Leviticus_, xix. 32. _Cf._ _Job_, xxxii. 1; _Proverbs_, xvi. 31, and xx. 29.] [Footnote 174: Ameer Ali, _Ethics of Islâm_, p. 27 _sq._] [Footnote 175: _Âpastamba_, i. 5. 15. _Laws of Manu_, ii. 121. _Dhammapada_, 109.] [Footnote 176: Herodotus, ii. 80.] [Footnote 177: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 879. _Cf._ _Idem_, _Respublica_, v. 465.] [Footnote 178: Maine, _Early Law and Custom_, p. 243.] In Europe the paternal authority of the archaic type which we have just considered has gradually yielded to a system under which the father has been divested of the most essential rights he formerly possessed over his children--a system the inmost drift of which is expressed in the words of the French Encyclopedist, "Le pouvoir paternel est plutôt un devoir qu'un pouvoir."[179] Already in pagan times the Roman _patria potestas_ became a shadow of what it had been. Under the Republic the abuses of paternal authority were checked by the censors, and in later times the Emperors reduced the father's power within comparatively narrow limits. Not only was the life of the child practically as sacred as that of the parent long before Christianity became the religion of Rome,[180] but Alexander Severus ordained that heavy punishments should be inflicted on members of a family by the magistrate only. Diocletian and Maximilian took away the power of selling freeborn children as slaves. The father's privilege of {616} dictating marriage for his sons declined into a conditional veto; and it seems that the daughters also, at length, gained a certain amount of freedom in the choice of a husband.[181] [Footnote 179: _Encyclopédie méthodique_, Jurisprudence, vii. 77, art. Puissance paternelle.] [Footnote 180: _Supra_, p. 393 _sq._] [Footnote 181: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 236.] The new religion was anything but unfavourable to this process of emancipation. The ethical precept of filial piety was changed by Christ. His church was a militant church. He had come not to send peace but a sword, "to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother."[182] Being chiefly addressed to the young, the new teaching naturally caused much disorder in families. Fathers disinherited their converted sons,[183] and children thought that they owed no duty to their parents where such a duty was opposed to the interests of their souls. According to Gregory the Great, we ought to ignore our parents, hating them and flying from them when they are an obstacle to us in the way of the Lord;[184] and this became the accepted theory of the Church.[185] Nay, it was not only in similar cases of conflict that Christianity exercised a weakening influence on family ties which had previously been regarded with religious veneration. In all circumstances the relationship between child and parent was put in the shade by the relationship between man and God. "Call no man your father upon the earth: for one is your Father, which is in Heaven."[186] "If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple."[187] At the same time the fifth commandment, though modified by considerations which would never have occurred to the mind of an orthodox Jew, was left formally intact. Obedience to parents was, in fact, repeatedly enjoined by St. Paul as a Christian duty.[188] It was regarded as a prerequisite {617} for the veneration of God. "If we do not honour and reverence our parents, whom we ought to love next to God, and whom we have almost continually before our eyes, how can we honour or reverence God, the supreme and best of parents, whom we cannot see?"[189] [Footnote 182: _St. Matthew_, x. 34 _sq._ _St. Luke_, xii. 51 _sqq._] [Footnote 183: Tertullian, _Apologeticus_, 3 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, i. 280 _sq._).] [Footnote 184: St. Gregory the Great, _Homiliæ in Evangelia_, xxxvii. 2 (Migne, _op. cit._ lxxvi. 1275).] [Footnote 185: Thomas Aquinas, _Summa theologica_, ii.-ii. 101. 4.] [Footnote 186: _St. Matthew_, xxiii. 9.] [Footnote 187: _St. Luke_, xiv. 26.] [Footnote 188: _Ephesians_, vi. 1 _sqq._ _Colossians_, iii. 20.] [Footnote 189: _Catechism of the Council of Trent_, iii. 5. 1.] Ancient, deep-rooted ideas die slowly. Whilst among Teutonic peoples the grown-up child is recognised both by custom and law as independent of the parents, and the parental authority over minors is regarded merely in the light of guardianship,[190] the Roman notions of paternal rights and filial duties have to some extent survived in Latin countries, not only through the Middle Ages, but up to the present time. "Above the majesty of the feudal baron," says M. Bernard, "that of the paternal power was held still more sacred and inviolable. However powerful the son might be, he would not have dared to outrage his father, whose authority was in his eyes always confounded with the sovereignty of command."[191] Du Vair remarks, "Nous devons tenir nos pères comme des dieux en terre."[192] Bodin wrote, in the later part of the sixteenth century, that, though the monarch commands his subjects, the master his disciples, the captain his soldiers, there is none to whom nature has given any command except the father, "who is the true image of the great sovereign God, universal father of all things."[193] According to edicts of Henry III., Louis XIII., and Louis XIV., sons could not marry before the age of thirty, nor daughters before the age of twenty-five, without the consent of the father and mother, on pain of being disinherited.[194] And even now in France considerable power is accorded to parents, not only by custom and public sentiment, but by law. A child cannot quit the paternal residence without the permission of the father before the age of twenty-one, except for enrolment {618} in the army.[195] For grave misconduct by his children the father has strong means of correction.[196] A son under twenty-five and a daughter under twenty-one could not until 1907 marry without parental consent;[197] and even when a man had attained his twenty-fifth year and a woman her twenty-first, both were still bound to ask for it, by a formal notification.[198] [Footnote 190: Starcke, _La famille dans les différentes sociétés_, p. 213 _sqq._] [Footnote 191: Bernard, quoted in Spencer's _Descriptive Sociology_, France, p. 38.] [Footnote 192: Du Vair, quoted by de Ribbe, _Les familles et la société en France avant la Révolution_, p. 51.] [Footnote 193: Bodin, _De republica_, i. 4, p. 31.] [Footnote 194: Koenigswarter, _Histoire de l'organisation de la famille en France_, p. 231.] [Footnote 195: _Code Civil_, art. 374.] [Footnote 196: _Ibid._ art. 375 _sqq._] [Footnote 197: _Ibid._ art. 148.] [Footnote 198: _Ibid._ art. 151.] The parental authority depends, in the first place, on the natural superiority of parents over their children when young, and on the helplessness of the latter; and for similar reasons the daughter, though grown-up, still remains in her father's power. Parents are, moreover, considered to possess in some measure proprietary rights over their offspring, being their originators and maintainers;[199] and in various cases, it seems, the father is also regarded as their owner because he is the owner of their mother. Filial duties and parental rights to some extent spring from the children's natural feeling of affection for their parents,[200] particularly for their mother,[201] and from the debt of gratitude which they are considered to owe to those who have brought them into existence and taken care of them whilst young.[202] The authority of parents is much enhanced and extended by the sentiment of filial reverence, as distinct from mere affection. From their infancy children are used to look up to their parents, {619} especially the father, as to beings superior to themselves; and this feeling, which by itself has a tendency to persist, is all the more likely to last even when the parents get old, as it is based not only on superior strength and bodily skill, but on superior knowledge, which remains though the physical power be on the wane. Among savages, in particular, filial regard is largely regard for one's elders or the aged. The old men represent the wisdom of the tribe. "Long life and wisdom," say the Iroquois, "are always connected together."[203] Throughout all West Africa the aged are "the knowing ones."[204] In his work on the Algerian natives M. Villot observes:--"Les vieillards, au milieu des sociétés barbares, représentent la tradition qui tient lieu de patrie; la science des coutumes et usages qui remplacent la loi; la connaissance des généalogies qui fixe les degrés de parenté et sert de base à la détermination des titres de propriété. Pour ces causes, aussi bien qu'en raison de leur faiblesse et de leurs cheveux blancs, le respect pour les vieillards est de règle au milieu des indigènes."[205] Among people who possess no literature the old men are the sole authorities on religion, as well as on custom. In Australia the deference shown to them is partly due to the superstitious awe of certain mysterious rites which are known to them alone, and to the knowledge of which young persons are only very gradually admitted.[206] Moreover, old age itself inspires a feeling of mysterious awe. The Moors say that, when getting old, a man becomes a saint, and a woman a _jinnía_, or evil spirit--there is something supernatural in both. Among the East African Embe "it is only by means of the rankest superstition that the old men are able to maintain their supremacy over the hot-blooded youths"; they convince the warriors, by presenting them {620} with some magic emblem, that in the hands of the sages alone rest the fate and fortune of those who fight in a battle. And old women, also, are often believed to possess supernatural power, in which case their influence, in spite of the subservient position of their sex in general, is almost as great as that of a medicine-man.[207] According to the beliefs of the natives of Western Victoria, witches always appear in the form of an old woman.[208] Among the Maoris some of the aged women exercise the greatest influence over their tribes, being supposed to possess the power of witchcraft and sorcery.[209] Among the Abipones, says Charlevoix, "the old women take upon them to be great witches; and it would be no easy matter to convert them."[210] In Arabia, as well as in Morocco, old women are always believed to be skilled in sorcery.[211] [Footnote 199: _Cf._ _Vasishtha_, xv. 1 _sq._; _Bandháyana Parisishta_, vii. 5. 2 _sq._] [Footnote 200: For instances of filial affection among savages see Catlin, _North American Indians_, ii. 242; Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 112 (Mattoal); Selenka, _Sonnige Welten_, p. 34 (Dyaks); Seemann, _Viti_, p. 193; Mathew, 'Australian Aborigines,' in _Jour. & Proceed. Roy. Soc. N.S. Wales_, xxiii. 388.] [Footnote 201: For instances of great affection for the mother, see Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 474 (Barea and Kunáma); Winterbottom, _Native Africans in the Neighbourhood of Sierra Leone_, i. 211; Park, _Travels in the Interior of Africa_, p. 241; New, _op. cit._ p. 101 (Wanika); François, _Nama und Damara, Deutsch-Süd-West-Afrika_, p. 251 (Mountain Damaras); Rowley, _Africa Unveiled_, p. 164; Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 70 _sq._; Urquhart, _op. cit._ ii. 265 _sq._ (Turks); Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 146, 155. It is said in the Talmud that the child loves its mother more than its father, whilst it fears its father more than its mother (Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 55).] [Footnote 202: _Hsiáo King_, 9 (_Sacred Books of the East_, iii. 479). _Laws of Manu_, ii. 227. Plato, _Leges_, iv. 717.] [Footnote 203: Loskiel, _History of the Mission of the United Brethren among the Indians in North America_, i. 15.] [Footnote 204: Kingsley, _West African Studies_, p. 142.] [Footnote 205: Villot, _M[oe]urs, coutumes et institutions des indigènes de l'Algérie_, p. 47.] [Footnote 206: Schuermann, 'Aboriginal Tribes of Port Lincoln,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 226. _Cf._ Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 304.] [Footnote 207: Chanler, _op. cit._ pp. 247, 252.] [Footnote 208: Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 52.] [Footnote 209: Angas, _Savage Life and Scenes in Australia and New Zealand_, i. 317.] [Footnote 210: Charlevoix, _History of Paraguay_, i. 406.] [Footnote 211: Niebuhr, _Travels in Arabia_, ii. 216.] The beliefs held regarding the dead also influence the treatment of the aged whose lives are drawing to an end. Certain African tribes treat their old people with every kindness in order to secure their goodwill after death.[212] A missionary in East Africa heard a negro say with reference to an old man, "We will do what he says, because he is soon going to die."[213] The Omahas "were afraid to abandon their aged on the prairie when away from their permanent villages lest Wakanda should punish them";[214] and in this case it seems that Wakanda, at least originally meant the ghost of the dead. The Niase is an egoist ever in his respect for the old, because he hopes that they will protect and assist him when they are dead.[215] In China the doctrine that ghosts may interfere at any moment with human business and fate, either favourably or unfavourably, "enforces respect for human life and a charitable {621} treatment of the infirm, the aged, and the sick, especially if they stand on the brink of the grave."[216] The regard for the aged and the worship of the dead are often mentioned together in a way which suggests that there exists an intrinsic connection between them. Of the Dacotahs Prescott observes, "Veneration is very great in some Indians for old age, and they all feel it for the dead."[217] The worship of ancestors is a distinguishing characteristic of the religious system of Southern Guinea; the "profound respect for aged persons, by a very natural operation of the mind, is turned into idolatrous regard for them when dead."[218] "The Barotse chiefly worship the souls of their ancestors. . . . Cognate to this worship of ancestors is the great respect displayed for parents and the old--especially the eldest of a family or tribe."[219] Among the Herero "the tomb of a father is the most important of all holy places, the soul of a father the oracle most often consulted."[220] The Aetas of the Philippine Islands "have a profound respect for old-age and for their dead."[221] The Ossetes "show the greatest love and veneration to their parents, to old age generally, and especially to the memory of their ancestors."[222] In cases like these, however, it is impossible accurately to distinguish between cause and effect. Whilst the worship of the dead is, in the first place, due to the mystery of death, it is evident that the regard in which a person is held during his lifetime also influences the veneration which is bestowed on his disembodied soul. [Footnote 212: Arnot, _op. cit._ p. 78, note.] [Footnote 213: Lippert, _Kulturgeschichte der Menschheit_, i. 229.] [Footnote 214: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 369. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 275.] [Footnote 215: Modigliani, _Viaggio a Nías_, p. 467.] [Footnote 216: de Groot, _op. cit._ (vol. iv. book) ii. 450.] [Footnote 217: Prescott, in Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, ii. 196.] [Footnote 218: Wilson, _Western Africa_, p. 392 _sq._] [Footnote 219: Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, p. 74 _sq._] [Footnote 220: François, _op. cit._ p. 192.] [Footnote 221: Foreman, _op. cit._ p. 209.] [Footnote 222: von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 414.] There are thus obvious reasons for the connection between filial submissiveness and religious beliefs; but the chief cause of this connection seems to be the extreme importance frequently attached to the curses and blessings of parents. Among the Nandi in Central Africa, "if a {622} son refuses to obey his father in any serious matter, the father solemnly strikes the son with his fur mantle. This is equivalent to a most serious curse, and is supposed to be fatal to the son unless he obtains forgiveness, which he can only do by sacrificing a goat before his father."[223] Among the Mpongwe "there is nothing which a young person so much deprecates as the curse of an aged person, and especially that of a revered father."[224] The Barea and Kunáma are convinced that any undertaking which has not the blessing of the old people will fail, that every curse uttered by them must be destructive.[225] Among the Bogos nobody takes an employment or gives it up, nobody engages in a business or contracts a marriage, before he has received the blessing of his father or his master.[226] Among the Herero, "when a chief feels his dissolution approaching, he calls his sons to the bedside, and gives them his benediction."[227] The Moors have a proverb that "if the saints curse you the parents will cure you, but if the parents curse you the saints will not cure you." The ancient Hebrews believed that parents, and especially a father, could by their blessings or curses determine the fate of their children;[228] indeed, we have reason to assume that the reward which in the fifth commandment is held out to respectful children was originally a result of parental blessings. We still meet with the original idea in Ecclesiasticus, where it is said: "Honour thy father and mother both in word and deed, that a blessing may come upon thee from them. For the blessing of the father establisheth the houses of children; but the curse of the mother rooteth out foundations."[229] The same notion that the parents' blessings beget prosperity, and that their curses bring ruin, prevailed in ancient Greece. Plato says {623} in his 'Laws':--"Neither God, nor a man who has understanding, will ever advise any one to neglect his parents. . . . If a man has a father or mother, or their fathers or mothers treasured up in his house stricken in years, let him consider that no statue can be more potent to grant his requests than they are, who are sitting at his hearth, if only he knows how to show true service to them. . . . Oedipus, as tradition says, when dishonoured by his sons, invoked on them curses which every one declares to have been heard and ratified by the gods, and Amyntor in his wrath invoked curses on his son Phoenix, and Theseus upon Hippolytus, and innumerable others have also called down wrath upon their children, whence it is clear that the gods listen to the imprecations of parents; for the curses of parents are, as they ought to be, mighty against their children as no others are. And shall we suppose that the prayers of a father or mother who is specially dishonoured by his or her children, are heard by the gods in accordance with nature; and that if a parent is honoured by them, and in the gladness of his heart earnestly entreats the gods in his prayers to do them good, he is not equally heard, and that they do not minister to his request? . . . Therefore, if a man makes a right use of his father and grandfather and other aged relations, he will have images which above all others will win him the favour of the gods."[230] Originally the efficacy of parents' curses and blessings were ascribed to a magic power immanent in the spoken word itself, and their Erinyes, who were no less terrible than the Erinyes of neglected guests,[231] were only personifications of their curses.[232] But in this, as in other similar cases already noticed, the fulfilment of the curse or the blessing came afterwards to be looked upon as an act of divine justice. According to Plato, "Nemesis, the messenger of justice," watches over unbecoming words uttered {624} to a parent;[233] and Hesiod says that if anybody reproaches an aged father or mother "Zeus himself is wroth, and at last, in requital for wrong deeds, lays on him a bitter penalty."[234] It also seems to be beyond all doubt that the _divi parentum_ of the Romans, like their _dii hospitales_, were nothing but personified curses. For it is said, "If a son beat his parent and he cry out, the son shall be devoted to the parental gods for destruction."[235] In aristocratic families in Russia children used to stand in mortal fear of their fathers' curses;[236] and the country people still believe that a marriage without the parents' approval will call down the wrath of Heaven on the heads of the young couple.[237] Some of the Southern Slavs maintain that if a son does not fulfil the last will of his father, the soul of the father will curse him from the grave.[238] The Servians say, "Without reverence for old men, there is no salvation."[239] [Footnote 223: Johnston, _Uganda Protectorate_, ii. 879.] [Footnote 224: Wilson, _Western Africa_, p. 393.] [Footnote 225: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 475.] [Footnote 226: _Idem_, _Sitten der Bogos_, p. 90 _sq._] [Footnote 227: Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 228.] [Footnote 228: _Genesis_, ix. 25 _sqq._; xxvii. 4, 19, 23, 25, 27 _sqq._; xlviii. 9, 14 _sqq._; xlix. 4, 7 _sqq._ _Judges_, xvii. 2. _Cf._ Cheyne, 'Blessings and Cursings,' in _Encyclopædia Biblica_, i. 592; Nowack, 'Blessing and Cursing,' in _Jewish Encyclopedia_, iii. 244.] [Footnote 229: _Ecclesiasticus_, iii. 8 _sq._ _Cf._ _ibid._ iii. 16.] [Footnote 230: Plato, _Leges_, xi. 930 _sq._ _Cf._ _ibid._ iv. 717.] [Footnote 231: Aeschylus, _Eumenides_, 545 _sqq._] [Footnote 232: See _Iliad_, xxi. 412 _sq._; Sophocles, _[OE]dipus Coloneus_, 1299, 1434; von Lasaulx, _Der Fluch bei Griechen und Römern_, p. 8; Müller, _Dissertations on the Eumenides_, p. 155 _sqq._; Rohde, 'Paralipomena,' in _Rheinisches Museum für Philologie_, 1895, p. 7.] [Footnote 233: Plato, _Leges_, iv. 717.] [Footnote 234: Hesiod, _Opera et dies_, 331 _sqq._ (329 _sqq._).] [Footnote 235: Servius Tullius, in Bruns, _Fontes Juris Romani antiqui_, p. 14, and Festus, _De verborum significatione_, ver. _Plorare_: "Si parentem puer verberit, ast olle plorassit, puer divis parentum sacer esto." _Cf._ Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Civile_, i. 184.] [Footnote 236: I am indebted to Prince Kropotkin for this statement.] [Footnote 237: Kovalewsky, _Modern Customs and Ancient Laws of Russia_, p. 37.] [Footnote 238: Krauss, _op. cit._ p. 119.] [Footnote 239: Maine, _Early Law and Custom_, p. 243.] In various instances the rewards or punishments attached to the behaviour of children seem to spring from the belief in parental blessings and curses, although the cause is not expressly mentioned. According to ancient Hindu ideas, a father, mother, and spiritual teacher are equal to the three Vedas, equal to the three gods, Brahman, Vishnu, and Siva.[240] A man who shows no regard for them derives no benefit from any religious observance; whereas, "by honouring his mother, he gains the present world; by honouring his father, the world of gods; and by paying strict obedience to his spiritual teacher, the world of Brahman."[241] As in Greece a person who had assaulted his parent was regarded as polluted by a curse,[242] so according {625} to the sacred law of India, those who quarrel with their father, and those who have forsaken their father, mother, or spiritual teacher, defile a company and must not be entertained at a Srâddha offering.[243] Those who have struck any of these persons cannot be readmitted until they have been purified with water taken from a sacred lake or river.[244] The stain of disobedience towards mother and father is purged away with barley-corns, like food which has been licked at by dogs or pigs, or defiled by crows and impure men.[245] In the Dhammapada it is said that to him who always greets and constantly reveres the aged four things will increase, namely, life, beauty, happiness, and power.[246] The Coreans believe that "the richest rewards on earth and brightest heaven hereafter await the filial child," whereas "curses and disgrace in this life and the hottest hell in the world hereafter are the penalties of the disobedient or neglectful child."[247] It seems to have been a notion of the ancient Egyptians that a son who accepted the word of his father would attain old age on that account.[248] The following is an exhortation which an Aztec gave to his son:--"Guard against imitating the example of those wicked sons who, like brutes that are deprived of reason, neither reverence their parents, listen to their instruction, nor submit to their correction; because whoever follows their steps will have an unhappy end, will die in a desperate or sudden manner, or will be killed and devoured by wild beasts."[249] And if an Aztec married without the sanction of his parents, the belief was that he would be punished with some misfortune.[250] The Aleuts were of opinion that those who were attentive to feeble old men, expecting in exchange their good advice only, would be long-lived and fortunate in the chase and in war, and would not be neglected when growing old {626} themselves.[251] In the Tonga Islands "disrespect to one's superior relations is little short of sacrilege to the gods," and to pay respect to chiefs is "a superior sacred duty, the non-fulfilment of which it is supposed the gods would punish almost as severely as disrespect to themselves."[252] In the same islands great efficacy is ascribed to curses which are uttered by a superior.[253] [Footnote 240: _Institutes of Vishnu_, xxxi. 7. _Laws of Manu_, ii. 230.] [Footnote 241: _Institutes of Vishnu_, xxxi. 9 _sq._ _Cf._ _Laws of Manu_, ii. 233 _sq._] [Footnote 242: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 881.] [Footnote 243: _Institutes of Vishnu_, lxxxii. 28 _sqq._] [Footnote 244: _Vasishtha_, xv. 19 _sq._] [Footnote 245: _Baudháyana_, iii. 6. 5. _Institutes of Vishnu_, xlviii. 20.] [Footnote 246: _Dhammapada_, 109.] [Footnote 247: Griffis, _Corea_, p. 236.] [Footnote 248: _Precepts of Ptah-Hotep_, 39.] [Footnote 249: Clavigero, _op. cit._ i. 332. Torquemada, _Monarchia Indiana_, ii. 493.] [Footnote 250: Torquemada, _op. cit._ ii. 415.] [Footnote 251: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _loc. cit._ p. 155.] [Footnote 252: Mariner, _op. cit._ ii. 237, 155.] [Footnote 253: _Ibid._ ii. 238.] Why are the blessings and curses of parents supposed to possess such an extraordinary power? One reason is no doubt the mystery of old age and the nearness of death. As appears from several of the cases already referred to, it is not parents only but old people generally that are held capable of giving due effect to their good and evil wishes, and this capacity is believed to increase when life is drawing to its close. The Herero "know really no blessing save that conferred by the father on his death-bed."[254] According to old Teutonic ideas, the curse of a dying person was the strongest of all curses.[255] A similar notion prevailed among the ancient Arabs;[256] and among the Hebrews the father's mystic privilege of determining the weal or woe of his children was particularly obvious when his days were manifestly numbered.[257] But, at the same time, parental benedictions and imprecations possess a potency of their own owing to the parents' superior position in the family and the respect in which they are naturally held. The influence which such a superiority has upon the efficacy of curses is well brought out by various facts. According to the Greek notion, the Erinyes avenged wrongs done by younger members of a family to elder ones, even brothers and sisters, but not _vice versâ_.[258] The Arabs of Morocco say that the curse of a husband is as potent as that of a father. The Tonga Islanders believe {627} that curses have no effect "if the party who curses is considerably lower in rank than the party cursed."[259] Moreover, where the father was invested with sacerdotal functions--as was the case among the ancient nations of culture--his blessings and curses would for that reason also be efficacious in an exceptional degree.[260] [Footnote 254: Ratzel, _History of Mankind_, ii. 468.] [Footnote 255: Grimm, _Teutonic Mythology_, iv. 1690.] [Footnote 256: Wellhausen, _Reste arabischen Heidentums_, pp. 139, 191.] [Footnote 257: Cheyne, in _Encyclopædia Biblica_, i. 592.] [Footnote 258: _Iliad_, xv. 204: "Thou knowest how the Erinyes do always follow to aid the elder-born." _Cf._ Müller, _Dissertations on the Eumenides_, p. 155 _sq._] [Footnote 259: Mariner, _op. cit._ ii. 238.] [Footnote 260: _Cf._ Nowack, in _Jewish Encyclopedia_, iii. 243 _sq._] However, the facts which we have hitherto considered are hardly sufficient to account for the extraordinary development of the paternal authority in the archaic State. Great though it be, the influence which magic and religious beliefs exercise upon the paternal authority is, as we have just seen, largely of a reactive character. A father's blessings would not be so eagerly sought for, nor would his curses be so greatly feared, if he were a less important personage in the family. So, too, as Sir Henry Maine aptly remarks, the father's power is older than the practice of worshipping him. "Why should the dead father be worshipped more than any other member of the household unless he was the most prominent--it may be said, the most awful--figure in it during his life?"[261] We must assume that there exists some connection between the organisation of the family and the political constitution of the society. At the lower stages of civilisation--though hardly at the very lowest--we frequently find that the clan has attained such an overwhelming importance that only a very limited amount of authority could be claimed by the head of each separate family. But, as will be shown in a following chapter, this was changed when clans and tribes were united into a State. The new State tended to weaken and destroy the clan-system, whereas at the same time the family-tie grew in strength. In early society there seems to be an antagonism between the family and the clan. Where the clan-bond is very strong it encroaches upon the family feeling, and where it is loosened the family gains. Hence Dr. Grosse is probably right in his {628} assumption that the father became a patriarch, in the true sense of the word, only as the inheritor of the authority which formerly belonged to the clan.[262] [Footnote 261: Maine, _Early Law and Custom_, p. 76.] [Footnote 262: Grosse, _Die Formen der Familie_, p. 219.] But whilst in its early days the State strengthened the family by weakening the clan, its later development had a different tendency. When national life grew more intense, when members of separate families drew nearer to one another in pursuit of a common goal, the family again lost in importance. It has been observed that in England and America, where political life is most highly developed, children's respect for their parents is at a particularly low ebb.[263] Other factors also, inherent in progressive civilisation, contributed to the downfall of the paternal power--the extinction of ancestor-worship, the decay of certain superstitious beliefs, the declining influence of religion, and last, but not least, the spread of a keener mutual sympathy throughout the State, which could not tolerate that the liberty of children should be sacrificed to the despotic rule of their fathers. [Footnote 263: Monier Williams, _Indian Wisdom_, p. 440, n. 1.] CHAPTER XXVI THE SUBJECTION OF WIVES AMONG the lower races, as a rule, a woman is always more or less in a state of dependence. When she is emancipated by marriage from the power of her father, she generally passes into the power of her husband. But the authority which the latter possesses over his wife varies extremely among different peoples. Frequently the wife is said to be the property or slave of her husband. In Fiji "the women are kept in great subjection. . . . Like other property, wives may be sold at pleasure, and the usual price is a musket."[1] "The Carib woman is always in bondage to her male relations. To her father, brother, or husband she is ever a slave, and seldom has any power in the disposal of herself."[2] Many North American Indians are said to treat their wives much as they treat their dogs.[3] Among the Shoshones "the man is the sole proprietor of his wives and daughters, and can barter them away, or dispose of them in any manner he may think proper."[4] Among the East African Wanika a woman "is a toy, a tool, a slave in the very worst sense; indeed she is treated as though she were a {630} mere brute."[5] Many other statements to a similar effect are met with in ethnographical literature.[6] [Footnote 1: Wilkes, _U.S. Exploring Expedition_, iii. 332.] [Footnote 2: Brett, _Indian Tribes of Guiana_, p. 353.] [Footnote 3: Harmon, _Journal of Voyages in the Interior of North America_, p. 344.] [Footnote 4: Lewis and Clarke, _Travels to the Source of the Missouri River_, p. 307.] [Footnote 5: New, _Life, Wanderings, and Labourings in Eastern Africa_, p. 119.] [Footnote 6: Gibbs, 'Tribes of Western Washington and Northwestern Oregon,' in _Contributions to N. American Ethnology_, i. 198. von Martius, _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 104 (Brazilian Indians). Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 548 (Negroes of Equatorial Africa). Proyart, 'History of Loango,' in Pinkerton, _Collection of Voyages and Travels_, xvi. 570 (Negroes of Loango). Andersson, _Notes on Travel in South Africa_, p. 236 (Ovambo). Castrén, _Nordiska resor och forskningar_, i. 310; ii. 56 (Ostyaks). In all these cases women are said to be mere articles of commerce, or slaves, or kept in a state of dependence bordering on slavery. In other instances women are said to be oppressed by their husbands, or treated as inferior beings (Waitz [-Gerland], _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, iii. 100 [North American Indians]; vi. 626 [Melanesians]. Bancroft, _Native Races of the Pacific States_, i. 121 [Hare and Sheep Indians]. Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 133 [Yuki]. Tuckey, _Expedition to Explore the River Zaire_, p. 371 [Negroes]. Ling Roth, _Aborigines of Tasmania_, p. 54).] Yet it seems that even in cases where the husband's power over his wife is described as absolute, custom has not left her entirely destitute of rights. Of the Australian aborigines in general it is said that "the husband is the absolute owner of his wife (or wives)";[7] of the natives of Central Australia, that "each father of a family rules absolutely over his own circle";[8] of certain tribes in West Australia, that the state of slavery in which the women are kept is truly deplorable, and that the mere presence of their husbands makes them tremble.[9] But we have reason to believe that there is some exaggeration in these statements, and they certainly do not hold good of the whole Australian race. We have noticed above that custom does not really allow the Australian husband full liberty to kill his wife.[10] For punishing or divorcing her he must sometimes have the consent of the tribe.[11] There are even cases in which a wife whose husband has been unfaithful to her may complain of his conduct to the elders of the tribe, and he may have to suffer for it.[12] In North-West-Central Queensland the women are on one special occasion {631} allowed themselves to inflict punishments upon the men: at a certain stage of the initiation ceremony "each woman can exercise her right of punishing any man who may have ill-treated, abused, or 'hammered' her, and for whom she may have waited months or perhaps years to chastise."[13] Of the natives of Central Australia Messrs. Spencer and Gillen say that "the women are certainly not treated usually with anything which could be called excessive harshness";[14] and we hear from various authorities that in several Australian tribes married people are often much attached to each other, and continue to be so even when they grow old.[15] Among the aborigines of New South Wales, for instance, "the husbands are as a general rule fond of their wives, and the wives loyal and affectionate to their husbands."[16] Nay, white men who have lived among the blacks assure us that there are henpecked husbands even in the Australian desert.[17] [Footnote 7: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 109.] [Footnote 8: Eyre, _Expeditions of Discovery into Central Australia_, ii. 317.] [Footnote 9: Salvado, _Mémoires historiques sur l'Australie_, p. 279. For other similar statements referring to the Australian aborigines, see Nieboer, _Slavery as an Industrial System_, p. 11.] [Footnote 10: _Supra_, p. 418.] [Footnote 11: Nieboer, _op. cit._ p. 17.] [Footnote 12: _Ibid._ p. 18.] [Footnote 13: Roth, _Ethnol. Studies among the North-West-Central Queensland Aborigines_, pp. 141, 176.] [Footnote 14: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 50.] [Footnote 15: Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 359. Stirling, _Report of the Horn Expedition to Central Australia_, Anthropology, p. 36.] [Footnote 16: Hill and Thornton, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 7.] [Footnote 17: Calvert, _Aborigines of Western Australia_, p. 31.] Other instances may be added to show that the so-called absolute authority of husbands over their wives is not to be taken too literally. Of the Guiana Indians Sir E. F. Im Thurn observes:--"The woman is held to be as completely the property of the man as his dog. He may even sell her if he chooses."[18] But in another place the same authority admits not only that the women in a quiet way may have a considerable influence with the men, but that, "even if the men were--though this is in fact quite contrary to their nature--inclined to treat them cruelly, public opinion would prevent this."[19] Of the Plains Indians of the United States Colonel Dodge writes:--"The husband owns his wife entirely. He may abuse her, beat her, even kill her without question. She is more absolutely a slave than any negro before the war of rebellion." But {632} on the following page we are told that custom gives to every married woman of the tribes "the absolute right to leave her husband and become the wife of any other man, the sole condition being that the new husband must have the means to pay for her."[20] Among the Chippewyans the women are said to be "as much in the power of the men as any other articles of their property," although, at the same time, "they are always consulted, and possess a very considerable influence in the traffic with Europeans, and other important concerns."[21] Among the Mongols a woman is "entirely dependent on her husband"; yet "in the household the rights of the wife are nearly equal to those of the husband."[22] Dr. Paulitschke tells us that among the Somals, Danakil, and Gallas, a wife has no rights whatever in relation to her husband, being merely a piece of property; but subsequently we learn that she is his equal, and "a mistress of her own will."[23] We must certainly not, like Mr. Spencer, conclude that where women are exchangeable for oxen or other beasts they are "of course" regarded as equally without personal rights.[24] The bride-price is a compensation for the loss sustained in the giving up of the girl, and a remuneration for the expenses incurred in her maintenance till the time of her marriage;[25] it does not _eo ipso_ confer on the husband absolute rights over her. With reference to certain tribes in South-Eastern Africa, the Rev. James Macdonald observes:--"A man obtains a wife by giving her father a certain number of cattle. This, though often called such, is not purchase in the usual sense of the word. The woman does not become a chattel. She cannot be resold or ill-treated beyond well-defined legal limits. She retains certain rights to property and an interest in the cattle paid for her. They are a guarantee for the husband's good {633} behaviour."[26] There are even peoples among whom the husband's authority hardly exists, although he has had to pay for his wife.[27] [Footnote 18: Im Thurn, _Indians of Guiana_, p. 223.] [Footnote 19: _Ibid._ p. 215.] [Footnote 20: Dodge, _Our Wild Indians_, p. 205 _sq._] [Footnote 21: Mackenzie, _Voyages to the Frozen and Pacific Oceans_, p. cxxii. _sq._ Schoolcraft, _Archives of Aboriginal Knowledge_, v. 176.] [Footnote 22: Prejevalsky, _Mongolia_, i. 69 _sqq._] [Footnote 23: Paulitschke, _Ethnographie Nordost-Afrikas_, pp. 189, 190, 244.] [Footnote 24: Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, i. 750.] [Footnote 25: Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 402.] [Footnote 26: Macdonald, _Light in Africa_, p. 159.] [Footnote 27: _E.g._, the Navahos and Pelew Islanders (Westermarck, _op. cit._ pp. 392, 393, 398 _sq._ For the position of wives among these peoples, see _infra_, pp. 638, 643).] Among many peoples the hardest drudgeries of life are said to be imposed on the women. Among the Kutchin "the women are literally beasts of burden to their lords and masters. All the heavy work is performed by them."[28] The Californian Karok, while on a journey, lays by far the greatest burdens on his wife, whom he regards as a drudge.[29] Among the Kenistenos the life of the women is an uninterrupted succession of toil and pain, hence "they are sometimes known to destroy their female children, to save them from the miseries which they themselves have suffered."[30] "The condition of the women among the Chaymas," says von Humboldt, "like that in all semi-barbarous nations, is a state of privation and suffering. The hardest labour is their share."[31] Among the Australian aborigines "wives have to undergo all the drudgery of the camp and the march, have the poorest food and the hardest work."[32] In Eastern Central Africa "the women hold an inferior position. They are viewed as beasts of burden, which do all the harder work."[33] Among the Kakhyens "the men are averse to labour, but the lot of all women, irrespective of rank, is one of drudgery";[34] and so forth.[35] But it seems that {634} these and similar statements, however correct they be, hardly express the whole truth. In early society each sex has its own pursuits. The man is responsible for the protection of the family, and, ultimately, for its support. His occupations are such as require strength and agility--fighting, hunting, fishing, the construction of implements for the chase and war, and, frequently, the cutting of trees and the building of lodges.[36] The woman may accompany him as a helpmate on his expeditions, sometimes even participating in the battle,[37] and when they travel she generally carries the baggage. But her principal occupations are universally of a domestic kind: she procures wood and water, prepares the food, dresses skins, makes clothes, takes care of the children. She, moreover, supplies the household with vegetable food, gathers roots, berries, acorns, and so forth, and among agricultural peoples very frequently cultivates the soil. Whilst cattle-rearing, having developed out of the chase, is largely a masculine pursuit,[38] agriculture, having developed out of collecting seeds and plants, originally devolves on the women.[39] [Footnote 28: Hardisty, 'Loucheux Indians,' in _Smithsonian Report_, 1866, p. 312.] [Footnote 29: Powers, _op. cit._ p. 23 _sq._] [Footnote 30: Schoolcraft, _Archives of Aboriginal Knowledge_, v. 167.] [Footnote 31: von Humboldt, _Personal Narrative of Travels_, iii. 238.] [Footnote 32: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 110.] [Footnote 33: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 35.] [Footnote 34: Anderson, _Mandalay to Momien_, p. 137.] [Footnote 35: For other instances, see Mackenzie, _Voyages to the Frozen and Pacific Oceans_, p. 147 (Rocky Mountain Indians); Parker, in Schoolcraft, _Archives_, v. 684 (Comanches); Im Thurn, _op. cit._ p. 215 (Guiana Indians); Keane, 'Botocudos,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xiii. 206; Weddell, _Voyage towards the South Pole_, p. 156, Darwin, _Journal of Researches_, p. 216, and Bove, _Patagonia_, p. 131 (Fuegians); Nieboer, _op. cit._ p. 13 _sqq._ (Australian aborigines); Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, p. 145; Forster, _Voyage round the World_, ii. 324 (natives of Tana, of the New Hebrides); Zimmermann, _Inseln des indischen und stillen Meeres_, ii. 17 (New Caledonians), 105 (New Irelanders); Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, pp. 192 (Toungtha), 254 _sq._ (Kukis); Rowney, _Wild Tribes of India_, p. 214 (most of the wild tribes of India); Reade, _op. cit._ pp. 51, 259, 545 (various African peoples); Waitz, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, ii. 117 (Negroes); Valdau, 'Om Ba-Kwileh folket,' in _Ymer_, v. 167, 169.] [Footnote 36: See Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, i. 750 _sqq._] [Footnote 37: For women taking part in battles, see Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, i. 236 (Comanches); Powers, _op. cit._ pp. 246 (Shastika Indians of California), 253 (Modok Indians of California); Waitz [-Gerland], _op. cit._ iii. 375 (Caribs), vi. 121 (Maoris); Wilkes, _op. cit._ v. 93 (Kingsmill Islanders); Kotzebue, _Voyage of Discovery into the South Sea_, iii. 171 (natives of Radack).] [Footnote 38: Grosse, _Die Formen der Familie_, p. 92 _sqq._] [Footnote 39: _Ibid._ p. 159. Hildebrand, _Recht und Sitte auf den verschiedenen wirthschaftlichen Kulturstufen_, p. 44 _sqq._ Dargun, 'Ursprung und Entwicklungsgeschichte des Eigenthums,' in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ v. 39, 110. Bücher, _Die Entstehung der Volkswirthschaft_, p. 36 _sqq._ Schurtz, _Das afrikanische Gewerbe_, p. 7. Ling Roth, 'Origin of Agriculture,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xvi. 119 _sq._ Mason, _Woman's Share in Primitive Culture_, pp. 15 _sqq._, 146 _sqq._, 277 _sq._ Havelock Ellis, _Man and Woman_, p. 5. von den Steinen, _Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens_, p. 214. von Schuetz-Holzhausen, _Der Amazonas_, p. 67 (Peruvian Indians). Waitz, _op. cit._ iii. 376 (Caribs). Prescott, in Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, i. 235 (Dacotahs). Colden, _ibid._ iii. 191; Seaver, _Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison_, p. 168 (Iroquois). 'Die Baluga-Negritos der Provinz Pampanga (Luzon),' in **_Globus_, xli. 238. Zöller, _Kamerun_, iii. 58 (Banaka and Bapuku). Möller, Pagels, and Gleerup, _Tre år i Kongo_, i. 129, 137 (Kuilu Negroes), 270 (Bakongo). Valdau, in _Ymer_, v. 165 (Bakwileh). Burrows, 'Natives of the Upper Welle District,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxviii. 41 (Niam-Niam). New, _op. cit._ pp. 114 (Wanika), 359 (Wataveta). Stuhlmann, _Mit Emin Pascha ins Herz von Afrika_, p. 182 (Waganda). Pogge, _Im Reiche des Muata Jamwo_, p. 243 (Kalunda of Mussumba). Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, pp. 78, 79, 85 (Barotse), 160 (Matabele). von Weber, _Vier Jahre in Afrika_, ii. 195 (Zulus). There are, however, exceptions to the rule. Among the Creeks and Cherokee Indians not a third part as many women as men are seen at work in their plantations (Bartram, in _Trans. American Ethn. Soc._ iii. pt i. 31). Among the Wakamba both sexes work in the fields, all heavy work, such as clearing and breaking new ground, being done by men (Decle, _op. cit._ p. 493). Among various peoples, indeed, such agricultural work as requires considerable strength devolves on the male sex (Hildebrand, _op. cit._ p. 44 _sqq._ Havelock Ellis, _Man and Woman_, p. 5). In the Malay Archipelago the men are chiefly engaged in the field-work (Ratzel, _History of Mankind_, i. 441). In the Kingsmill Islands (Wilkes, _op. cit._ v. 91), Tonga (Cook, _Voyage to the Pacific Ocean_, i. 390 _sqq._), and the Caroline Group (Cantova, quoted _ibid._ i. 392, note) the soil is cultivated by the men. Among the Gallas, "whilst the women tend the sheep and oxen in the field, and manage the hives of bees, the men plough, sow, and reap" (Harris, _Highlands of Aethiopia_, iii. 47).] {635} The various occupations of life are thus divided between the sexes according to rules; and, though the formation of these rules no doubt has been more or less influenced by the egoism of the stronger sex, the essential principle from which they spring lies deeper. They are on the whole in conformity with the indications which nature herself has given. Take, for instance, the apparently cruel custom of using the women as beasts of burden. To the superficial observer, as M. Pinart remarks--with special reference to the Panama Indians,--it may indeed seem strange that the woman should be charged with a heavy load, while the man walking before her carries nothing but his weapons. But a little reflection will make it plain that the man has good reason for keeping himself free and mobile. The little caravan is surrounded with dangers: when traversing a savannah or a forest a hostile Indian may appear at any moment, or a tiger or a snake may lie in wait for the travellers. Hence the man must be on the alert, and ready in an instant to catch his arms to defend himself and his family against the aggressor.[40] Dobrizhoffer writes, "The luggage being all committed to the women, the Abipones travel armed {636} with a spear alone, that they may be disengaged to fight or hunt, if occasion require."[41] [Footnote 40: Pinart, quoted by Nieboer, _op. cit._ p. 21.] [Footnote 41: Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, ii. 118. _Cf._ Wied-Neuwied _Reise nach Brasilien_, ii. 17, 37 (Botocudos); Giddings, _Principles of Sociology_, p. 266 _sq._] Moreover, whatever may have been the original reason for allotting a certain occupation to the one sex to the exclusion of the other, any such restriction has subsequently been much emphasised by custom, and in many cases by superstition as well.[42] In Africa it is a common belief that the cattle get ill if women have anything to do with them.[43] Hence among most Negro races milking is only permitted to men.[44] In South-Eastern Africa "a woman must not enter the cattle fold."[45] The Bechuanas never allow women to touch their cattle, hence the men have to plough themselves.[46] In North America Indian custom and superstition ordain that the wife must carefully keep away from all that belongs to her husband's sphere of action.[47] On the other hand, among the Dacotahs "the men do not often interfere with the work of the women; neither will they help them if they can avoid it, for fear of being laughed at and called a woman."[48] In Abyssinia "it is infamy for a man to go to market to buy anything. He cannot carry water or bake bread; but he must wash the clothes belonging to both sexes, and, in this function, the women cannot help him."[49] Among the Beni A[h.]sen tribe in Morocco the women of the village where I was staying were quite horrified when one of my native servants set out to fetch water; they would on no account allow him to do what they said was a woman's business. The Greenlander regards it as scandalous for a man to interfere with any occupation which belongs to the women. When he has brought his booty to land, he troubles himself no further about it; "for it would be a stigma on his character, {637} if he so much as drew a seal out of the water."[50] Among the Bakongo a man would be much ridiculed by the women themselves, if he wanted to help them in their work in the field.[51] Sometimes agriculture is supposed to be dependent for success on a magic quality in woman, intimately connected with child-bearing.[52] Some Orinoco Indians said to Father Gumilla:--"When the women plant maize the stalk produces two or three ears; when they set the manioc the plant produces two or three baskets of root; and thus everything is multiplied. Why? Because women know how to produce children, and know how to plant the corn so as to ensure its germinating. Then, let them plant it; we do not know so much as they do."[53] [Footnote 42: See Crawley, _Mystic Rose_, p. 49 _sq._] [Footnote 43: Schurtz, _Das afrikanische Gewerbe_, p. 10.] [Footnote 44: Ratzel, _op. cit._ ii. 419.] [Footnote 45: Macdonald, _Life in Africa_, p. 221.] [Footnote 46: Holub, 'Central South African Tribes,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ x. 11.] [Footnote 47: Waitz, _op. cit._ iii. 100.] [Footnote 48: Prescott, in Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, iii. 235.] [Footnote 49: Bruce, _Travels to Discover the Source of the Nile_ iv. 474.] [Footnote 50: Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 313. Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 138, 154.] [Footnote 51: Möller, Pagels, and Gleerup, _op. cit._ i. 270.] [Footnote 52: See Payne, _History of the New World_, ii. 8.] [Footnote 53: Gumilla, _El Orinoco ilustrado_, ii. 274 _sq._] It is obvious that this strict division of labour is apt to mislead the travelling stranger. He sees the women hard at work, and the men idly looking on; and it escapes him that the latter will have to be busy in their turn, within their own sphere of action. What is largely due to the force of custom is taken to be sheer tyranny on the part of the men; and the wife is pronounced to be an abject slave of her husband, destitute of all rights. And yet the strong differentiation of work, however burdensome it may be to the wife, is itself a source of rights, giving her authority within the circle which is exclusively her own. Among the Banaka and Bapuku the wife, though said to be her husband's property and slave, is nevertheless an autocrat in her own house, strong enough to bid defiance to her lord and master.[54] Among the North American Indians, Schoolcraft observes, "the lodge itself, with all its arrangements, is the precinct of the rule and government of the wife. . . . The husband has no voice in this matter."[55] Many other statements to a similar effect will be quoted below. [Footnote 54: Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 29 _sq._] [Footnote 55: Schoolcraft, _Indian in his Wigwam_, p. 73.] {638} We have reason, then, to believe that the authority which savage husbands possess over their wives is not always quite so great as it is said to be. And we must distinctly reject as erroneous the broad statement that the lower races in general hold their women in a state of almost complete subjection.[56] Among many of them the married woman, though in the power of her husband, is known to enjoy a remarkable degree of independence, to be treated by him with consideration, and to exercise no small influence upon him. In several cases she is stated to be his equal, and in a few his superior. [Footnote 56: Thus Meiners says (_History of the Female Sex_, i. 2), "Among savage nations, the entrance into the married state is for the female the commencement of the most cruel and abject slavery; for which reason many women dread matrimony more than death." In a recent work on the primitive family an Italian writer regards it as perhaps the most fundamental fact in the family institution that the woman is always and everywhere "sottoposta al più gravoso _mundium_ maritale" (Amadori-Virgilj, _L'istituto famigliare nelle società primordiali_, p. 138).] Among many of the South American Indians the women have been noticed to occupy a respected position in the family or community.[57] Thus, among the Goajiros of Colombia, "in a quarrel or drunken brawl, women often save bloodshed by stepping in and tearing the weapons out of their husband's or brother's hand. Travelling with women is consequently perfectly safe, and in case of danger, if one undertakes to protect a stranger, he may rely upon coming out all right."[58] Among the Tarahumares of Mexico--in spite of their saying that one man is as good as five women--the woman "occupies a comparatively high position in the family, and no bargain is ever concluded until the husband has consulted his wife in the matter."[59] Among the Navahos of New Mexico the women "exert a great deal of influence";[60] they "are very independent of menial duties, and leave their husbands upon the slightest pretext of dislike";[61] "by common consent the house and all the domestic gear belongs entirely to the wife."[62] In {639} his description of North American Indians Mr. Grinnell observes:--"The Indian woman, it is usually thought, is a mere drudge and slave, but, so far as my observations extend, this notion is wholly an erroneous one. It is true that the women were the labourers of the camp; that they did all the hard work, about which there was no excitement . . . . but they were not mere servants. On the contrary, their position was very respectable. They were consulted on many subjects, not only in connection with family affairs, but in more important and general matters. Sometimes women were even admitted to the councils and spoke there, giving their advice. . . . In ordinary family conversation women did not hesitate to interrupt and correct their husbands when the latter made statements with which they did not agree, and the men listened to them with respectful attention, though of course this depended on the standing of the woman, her intelligence, etc."[63] Another competent observer, Ten Kate, strongly protests against the statement that, among the North American Indians, women are treated as beasts of burden, and affirms that their condition, as compared with that of the women of the lower classes in civilised countries, is rather better than worse.[64] Among the Omahas the women had an equal standing in society with the men; both the husband and wife were at the head of the family and the joint owners of the lodge, robes, and so forth, so that the man could not give away anything if his wife was unwilling.[65] Among the Senecas, "usually, the female portion ruled the house, and were doubtless clannish enough about it. The stores were in common; but woe to the luckless husband or lover who was too shiftless to do his share of the providing. No matter how many children, or whatever goods he might have in the house, he might at any time be ordered to pick up his blanket and budge."[66] "From documentary references," says Mr. Mooney, "it is apparent that there existed among the Cherokee a custom analogous to that found among the Iroquois and probably other Eastern tribes, by which the decision of important questions relating to peace and war was left to a vote of the women."[67] Among the Salish, or Flatheads, "although the women are required to do much hard labour, they are {640} by no means treated as slaves, but, on the contrary, have much consideration and authority."[68] Among the Nootkas "wives are consulted in matters of trade, and in fact seem to be nearly on terms of equality with their husbands, except that they are excluded from some public feasts and ceremonies."[69] Among the Indians about Puget Sound, also, women "are always consulted in matters of trade before a bargain is closed," and "acquire great influence in the tribe."[70] The Thlinket woman is not the slave of her husband; she has determinate rights, and her influence is considerable.[71] Among the natives of Cross Cape she even possesses "acknowledged superiority over the other sex."[72] Among the Western Tinneh "the women do only a fair share of the work and have a powerful voice in most affairs."[73] In Kadiak they were held in much respect, and enjoyed great liberties.[74] Among the Kamchadales they had the command of everything, and the husbands were their obedient slaves.[75] Nordenskiöld says of the Chukchi:--"The power of the woman appears to be very great. In making the more important bargains, even about weapons and hunting implements, she is, as a rule, consulted, and her advice is taken. A number of things which form women's tools she can barter away on her own responsibility, or in any other way employ as she pleases."[76] Mr. Bancroft's statement concerning the Western Eskimo, that "the lot of the women is but little better than slavery,"[77] must be understood as chiefly involving the fact that they have much hard work to do. According to Dr. Seemann they "are treated, although not as equals, at least with more consideration than is customary among barbarous nations"; nay, "it not infrequently happens that the woman is the chief authority of the house," and "the man {641} never makes a bargain without consulting his wife, and if she does not approve, it is rejected."[78] Among the Point Barrow Eskimo "the women appear to stand on a footing of perfect equality with the men both in the family and in the community. The wife is the constant and trusted companion of the man in everything except the hunt, and her opinion is sought in every bargain or other important undertaking."[79] In Greenland, also, though the woman is considered much inferior to the man, she is in no way oppressed,[80] and her husband consults with her on important matters.[81] [Footnote 57: Waitz, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, iii. 472 (Guaycurus), 530 (Morotocos). von den Steinen, _Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens_, p. 332 (Bakaïri).] [Footnote 58: Simons, 'Exploration of the Goajira Peninsula,' in _Proceed. Roy. Geo. Soc._ N.S. vii. 792. See also Candelier, _Rio-Hacha_, p. 256.] [Footnote 59: Lumholtz, _Unknown Mexico_, i. 265.] [Footnote 60: Letherman, in _Ann. Rep. Smithsonian Inst._ 1855, p. 294.] [Footnote 61: Eaton, in Schoolcraft, _Archives_, iv. 217.] [Footnote 62: Stephen, in _American Anthropologist_, vi. 354.] [Footnote 63: Grinnell, _Story of the Indian_, p. 46. _Cf._ Waitz, _op. cit._ iii. 101 _sq._] [Footnote 64: Ten Kate, _Reizen en ondersoekingen Noord-Amerika_, p. 365. _Cf._ _ibid._ 9.] [Footnote 65: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 266, 366.] [Footnote 66: Morgan, _Houses and House-Life of the American Aborigines_, p. 65 _sq._ See also Dixon, _New America_, p. 46.] [Footnote 67: Mooney, 'Myths of the Cherokee,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xix. 489.] [Footnote 68: Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 207.] [Footnote 69: Bancroft, _op. cit._ i. 196. _Cf._ Sproat, _Scenes and Studies of Savage Life_, pp. 93, 95 (Ahts).] [Footnote 70: Bancroft, _op. cit._ i. 218.] [Footnote 71: Krause, _Tlinkit-Indianer_, p. 161.] [Footnote 72: Meares, _Voyages to the North-West Coast of America_, p. 323.] [Footnote 73: Dall, _Alaska_, p. 431.] [Footnote 74: Holmberg, 'Ethnographische Skizzen über die Völker des russischen Amerika,' in _Acta Soc. Scient. Fennicæ_, iv. 399.] [Footnote 75: Steller, _Beschreibung von dem Lande Kamtschatka_, p. 287.] [Footnote 76: Nordenskiöld, _Vegas färd kring Asien och Europa_, ii. 144.] [Footnote 77: Bancroft, _op. cit._ i. 65 _sq._ Mr. Bancroft's authority is probably Armstrong, who says that the women are, to all intents and purposes, the slaves of the men, and do the greater part of the outdoor work, except hunting and fishing; but he adds that they nevertheless enjoy a higher position and more consideration than is usual amongst savages (Armstrong, _Personal Narrative of the Discovery of the North-West Passage_, p. 195).] [Footnote 78: Seemann, _Narrative of the Voyage of "Herald,"_ ii. 66.] [Footnote 79: Murdoch, 'Ethnological Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 413.] [Footnote 80: Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 312.] [Footnote 81: Nordenskiöld, _Den andra Dicksonska expeditionen till Grönland_, p. 509.] Among the nomadic Tangutans the women's rights in the household seemed to Prejevalsky to be equal to those of the men.[82] Of the Todas of India it is said that their women "hold a position in the family quite unlike what is ordinarily witnessed among Oriental nations. They are treated with respect, and are permitted a remarkable amount of freedom."[83] Among the Kandhs women "are uniformly treated with respect; the mothers of families generally with much honour. Nothing is done either in public or in private affairs without consulting them, and they generally exert upon the councils of their tribes a powerful influence." A wife may quit her husband at any time, except within a year of her marriage, or when she expects offspring, or within a year after the birth of a child, though, when she quits him, he has a right to reclaim immediately from her father the whole sum paid for her.[84] Among the peasants of the North-Western Provinces of India the wife is an influential personage in the household, not a mere drudge. Little is done without her knowledge and advice. If she is badly wronged the tribal council will protect her, and on the whole her position is, perhaps, not worse than that of her sisters in a similar grade of life in other parts of the world.[85] Among the Káttis the men are much under the authority of their wives.[86] Among the Bheels women "have much influence in the society," and married men have always had the credit of allowing their wives to domineer over them.[87] "A Kol or Ho," says Dr. Hayes, "makes a regular companion {642} of his wife. She is consulted in all difficulties, and receives the fullest consideration due to her sex";[88] and Colonel Dalton adds, "As a rule, in no country in the world are wives better treated."[89] The Garos are "kind husbands, and their conduct generally towards the weaker sex is marked by consideration and respect."[90] The Bódo and Dhimáls "use their wives and daughters well, treating them with confidence and kindness."[91] The Santal "treats the female members of his family with respect."[92] Among the Kukis women are generally held in consideration; "their advice is taken, and they have much influence."[93] Mr. Colquhoun observes that among the Indo-Chinese races equality of the sexes prevails, and prevailed long before Buddhism took any hold upon the country.[94] [Footnote 82: Prejevalsky, _Mongolia_, ii. 121.] [Footnote 83: Marshall, _A Phrenologist amongst the Todas_, p. 43.] [Footnote 84: Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, pp. 69, 132 _sq._] [Footnote 85: Crooke, _North-Western Provinces of India_, p. 230 _sq._] [Footnote 86: Rowney, _Wild Tribes of India_, p. 47.] [Footnote 87: Malcolm, _Memoir of Central India_, ii. 180. Rowney, _op. cit._ p. 38.] [Footnote 88: Hayes, quoted by Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 194. _Cf._ Bradley-Birt, _Chota-Nagpore_, p. 100 _sq._] [Footnote 89: Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 194.] [Footnote 90: _Ibid._ p. 68.] [Footnote 91: Hodgson, _Miscellaneous Essays_, i. 150.] [Footnote 92: Hunter, _Annals of Rural Bengal_, i. 217. _Cf._ _Ymer_, v. p. xxiv.] [Footnote 93: Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, p. 254.] [Footnote 94: Colquhoun, _Amongst the Shans_, p. 234. _Cf._ Fytche, _Burma_, ii. 72.] Among the Nicobarese "the position of women is, and always has been, in no way inferior to that of the other sex. They take their full share in the formation of public opinion, discuss publicly with the men matters of general interest to the village, and their opinions receive due attention before a decision is arrived at. In fact, they are consulted on every matter, and the henpecked husband is of no extraordinary rarity in the Nicobars."[95] Mr. Crawfurd thinks that in the Malay Archipelago "the lot of women may, on the whole, be considered as more fortunate than in any other country of the East"; they associate with the men "in all respects on terms of such equality as surprise us in such a condition of society."[96] In Bali they are on a perfect equality with the men.[97] The Dyak shows great respect for his wife, and always asks her opinion;[98] he regards her "not as a slave, but as a companion."[99] Among the Bataks the married women often have a great influence over their families.[100] In Serang they have in all matters equal rights with the men, and are, consequently, treated well.[101] The women of Sulu "have the reputation of ruling their {643} lords, and possess much weight in the government by the influence they exert over their husbands."[102] [Footnote 95: Kloss, _In the Andamans and Nicobars_, p. 242.] [Footnote 96: Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, i. 73.] [Footnote 97: Raffles, _History of Java_, ii. p. ccxxxi.] [Footnote 98: Bock, _Head-Hunters of Borneo_, p. 210 _sq._] [Footnote 99: Selenka, _Sonnige Welten_, p. 33. _Cf._ Wilkes, _op. cit._ v. 363.] [Footnote 100: Steinmetz, _Ethnol. Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, ii. 299.] [Footnote 101: Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua_, p. 97.] [Footnote 102: Wilkes, _op. cit._ v. 343.] In Melanesia the women generally have to work hard, supplying the place of slaves;[103] but at least in various islands their condition is otherwise fairly good. In the Western islands of Torres Straits "the women appear to have had a good deal to say on most questions and were by no means downtrodden or ill-used."[104] In some parts of New Guinea their position is described as one of high esteem.[105] "They have a large voice in domestic affairs, and occasionally lord it over their masters"; and their influence is felt not only in domestic matters, but also in affairs of state.[106] In Erromanga, of the New Hebrides, although the women did all of the hard plantation work, they were on the whole well treated by their husbands.[107] The same is said to be the case in the Solomon Islands;[108] in the eastern part of New Georgia they do not even seem to do much work.[109] In Micronesia the position of woman is decidedly good. In the Marianne Group "the wife is absolute mistress in her house, the husband not daring to dispose of anything without her consent"; nay, the men are said to be actually governed by their wives, "the women assuming those prerogatives which in most other countries are invested in the other sex."[110] In the Pelew Islands the women are in every respect the equals of the men; the oldest man, or Obokul, of a family can do nothing without taking advice with its oldest female members.[111] In the Caroline Group the weaker sex "enjoys a perfect equality in public estimation with the other."[112] Among the Mortlock Islanders the wife is quite independent of her husband.[113] In the Kingsmill Islands very great consideration is awarded to the women: "they seem to have exclusive control over the house," whilst all the hard labour is performed by the {644} men.[114] Among the Line Islanders "no difference is made in the sexes; a woman can vote and speak as well as a man, and in general the women decide the question, unless it is one of war against another island."[115] In many Polynesian islands, also, their position is by no means bad.[116] In Tonga "women have considerable respect shown to them on account of their sex, independent of the rank they might otherwise hold as nobles"; they are not subjected to hard labour or any very menial work,[117] and their _status_ in society is not inferior to that of men.[118] In Samoa they "are held in much consideration, . . . treated with great attention, and not suffered to do anything but what rightfully belongs to them."[119] In the valley of Typee, in the Marquesas Group, the women are allowed every possible indulgence, the religious restrictions of the taboo alone excepted; they are exempt from toil, and "nowhere are they more sensible of their power."[120] Rochon wrote of the Malagasy:--"Man here never commands as a despot; nor does the woman ever obey as a slave. The balance of power inclines even in favour of the women."[121] At the present day, in Madagascar, the woman "is not scorned as essentially inferior to man," but enters into her husband's cares and joys, and shares his life, much in the same way as a wife does amongst ourselves.[122] [Footnote 103: Nieboer, _op. cit._ p. 392 _sqq._ Waitz-Gerland, _op. cit._ vi. 626.] [Footnote 104: Haddon, in _Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_, v. 229.] [Footnote 105: Ratzel, _op. cit._ i. 274.] [Footnote 106: Pitcairn, _Two Years among the Savages of New Guinea_, p. 6l. _Cf._ Bink, in _Bulletin Soc. d'Anthrop. de Paris_, xi. 392; Hagen, _Unter den Papua's_, pp. 226, 243.] [Footnote 107: Robertson, _Erromanga_, p. 397.] [Footnote 108: Parkinson, _Zur Ethnographie der nordwestlichen Salomo Inseln_, p. 4.] [Footnote 109: Somerville, 'Ethnogr. Notes in New Georgia,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. 405 _sq._] [Footnote 110: Moore, _Marriage Customs_, p. 187. Waitz, _op. cit._ v. pt. i. p. 107 _sq._] [Footnote 111: Kubary, _Die socialen Einrichtungen der Pelauer_, p. 38 _sq._ _Cf._ _Idem_, 'Die Palau-Inseln,' in _Journal des Museum Godeffroy_, iv. 43; Keate, _Account of the Pelew Islands_, p. 331.] [Footnote 112: Hale, _op. cit._ p. 73.] [Footnote 113: Kubary, 'Die Bewohner der Mortlock Inseln,' in _Mittheilungen der Geograph. Gesellsch. in Hamburg_, 1878-9, p. 261.] [Footnote 114: Wilkes, _op. cit._ v. 91.] [Footnote 115: Tutuila, in _Jour. Polynesian Soc._ i. 269.] [Footnote 116: See Waitz-Gerland, _op. cit._ vi. 120 _sqq._] [Footnote 117: Mariner, _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 97.] [Footnote 118: Erskine, _Cruise among the Islands of the Western Pacific_, p. 158.] [Footnote 119: Wilkes, _op. cit._ ii. 148. _Cf._ Waitz-Gerland, _op. cit._ vi. 121.] [Footnote 120: Melville, _Typee_, p. 299.] [Footnote 121: Rochon, 'Voyage to Madagascar,' in Pinkerton, _Collection of Voyages and Travels_, xvi 747. _Cf._ Waitz, _op. cit._ ii. 438.] [Footnote 122: Little, _Madagascar_, p. 63.] Turning, finally, to the African continent, we find that among the Negro races the woman, though often heavily burdened and more or less subservient to her husband, is by no means without influence.[123] "When we become more closely acquainted with family conditions," Herr Büttner observes, "we notice that there, as elsewhere, husbands are under petticoat government, and those most of all who like to pose before the outer world as masters of their house. The women, including the aunts, have on all occasions, important and unimportant alike, a weighty {645} word to contribute."[124] The Monbuttu women, according to Dr. Schweinfurth, exhibit towards their husbands the highest degree of independence; "the position in the household occupied by the men was illustrated by the reply which would be made if they were solicited to sell anything as a curiosity, 'Oh, ask my wife: it is hers.'"[125] Among the Momvus "the women are on a footing of equality with the men, and go hunting with them, and accompany them to the wars, taking their part in the combat."[126] Among the Madi or Moru tribe of Central Africa "women are treated with respect and politeness by the men, who always show them preference, resigning to their use the best places, and paying them such like courtesies." The women associate with the men on equal terms, being consulted and honoured; and any insult to a woman is revenged, nay is frequently the cause of war.[127] In a Hottentot's house the woman is the supreme ruler, and the husband has nothing at all to say. "While in public the men take the prominent part, at home they have not so much power even as to take a mouthful of sour milk out of the tub, without the wife's permission. If a man ever should try to do it, his nearest female relations will put a fine on him, consisting in cows and sheep, which is to be added to the stock of the wife."[128] Among the peoples of Berber race the women exercise considerable influence over the men. Among the Guanches of the Canary Islands they were much respected.[129] Among the Touareg "la femme est l'égale de l'homme, si même, par certains côtés, elle n'est dans une condition meilleure."[130] Among the Beni Amer a husband undertakes nothing before consulting his wife, on whose goodwill he largely depends.[131] Of the Aulâd Solîmân, an Arab tribe in the Sahara, Dr. Nachtigal observes that it was curious to see how powerless those much feared robbers and cut-throats were in their own houses.[132] Both in the Sahara[133] and in the East[134] the Bedouin women {646} enjoy a considerable degree of freedom, and sometimes actually rule over their husbands. [Footnote 123: Waitz, _op. cit._ ii. 117. Ratzel, _op. cit._ ii. 332. Buchner, _Kamerun_, p. 32 _sq._ Möller, Pagels, and Gleerup, _op. cit._ i. 171 (Lukungu). Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 29 (Banaka and Bapuku). Lang, _ibid._ p. 225 (Washambala). Burrows, _Land of the Pigmies_, p. 62 (Niam-Niam). Chanler, _Through Jungle and Desert_, p. 485 (Wakamba).] [Footnote 124: Büttner, quoted by Ratzel, _op. cit._ ii. 334.] [Footnote 125: Schweinfurth, _Heart of Africa_, ii. 91.] [Footnote 126: Burrows, _op. cit._ p. 128.] [Footnote 127: Felkin, 'Notes on the Madi or Moru Tribe,' in _Proceed. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh_, xii. 329.] [Footnote 128: Hahn, _The Supreme Being of the Khoi-Khoi_, p. 19.] [Footnote 129: Bory de St. Vincent, _Essais sur les Isles Fortunées_, p. 105. Mantegazza, _Rio de la Plata e Tenerife_ p. 630.] [Footnote 130: Dyveyrier, _Exploration du Sahara_, p. 339. _Cf._ Chavanne, _Die Sahara_, p. 181; Hourst, _Sur le Niger et au pays des Touaregs_, p. 209.] [Footnote 131: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 325.] [Footnote 132: Nachtigal, _Sahara und Sudan_, ii. 93.] [Footnote 133: Chavanne, _op. cit._ p. 397.] [Footnote 134: Wallin, _Reseanteckningar från Orienten_, iii. 151, 152, 269. Blunt, _Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates_, ii. 214, 226, 228.] All these statements certainly do not imply that the husband has no recognised power over his wife, but they prove that his power is by no means unlimited. It is true that many of our authorities speak rather of liberties that the woman takes herself than of privileges granted her by custom; but, as we have seen before, customary rights are always more or less influenced by habitual practice. It should be added that among many savage peoples the husband has a right to divorce his wife only under certain conditions;[135] and among a very considerable number custom or law permits the wife to separate either for some special cause or, simply, at will.[136] In certain parts of Eastern Central Africa divorce may be effected if the husband neglects to sew his wife's clothes, or if the partners do not please each other.[137] Among the Shans of Burma the woman has a right to turn adrift a husband who takes to drinking or otherwise misconducts himself, and to retain all the goods and money of the partnership.[138] Among the Irulas of the Neilgherries the option of remaining in union, or of separating, rests principally with the woman.[139] Among the Savaras, an aboriginal hill people of the Madras Presidency, "a woman may leave her husband _whenever she pleases_."[140] This is surely something very different from that absolute dominion which hasty generalisers have attributed to savage husbands in general. [Footnote 135: Westermarck. _op. cit._ p. 523 _sq._] [Footnote 136: _Ibid._ p. 526 _sqq._] [Footnote 137: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 140.] [Footnote 138: Colquhoun, _Amongst the Shans_, p. 295.] [Footnote 139: Harkness, _Description of a Singular Aboriginal Race inhabiting the Neilgherry Hills_, p. 92.] [Footnote 140: Fawcett, in _Jour. Anthrop. Soc. Bombay_, i. 28.] It is often said that a people's civilisation may be measured by the position held by its women. But at least so far as the earlier stages of culture are concerned, this opinion is not supported by facts. Among several of the lowest races, including peoples like the Veddahs, Andaman Islanders, and Bushmans, the female sex is {647} treated with far greater consideration than among many of the higher savages and barbarians. Travellers have not seldom noticed that of two neighbouring tribes the less cultured one sets in this respect an example to the other. "Among the Bushmans," says Dr. Fritsch, "the female sex makes life-companions, among the A-bantu beasts of burden."[141] Lewis and Clarke affirm that the _status_ of woman in a savage tribe has no necessary relation even to its moral qualities in general. "The Indians," they say, "whose treatment of the females is mildest, and who pay most deference to their opinions, are by no means the most distinguished for their virtues. . . . On the other hand, the tribes among whom the women are very much debased, possess the loftiest sense of honour, the greatest liberality, and all the good qualities of which their situation demands the exercise."[142] That the condition of woman, or her relative independence, is no safe gauge of the general culture of a nation, also appears from a comparison between many of the lower races and the peoples of archaic civilisation. [Footnote 141: Fritsch, _Die Eingeborenen Süd-Afrika's_, p. 444.] [Footnote 142: Lewis and Clarke, _op. cit._ p. 441.] In China the condition of woman has always been inferior to that of man, and no generous sentiment tending to the amelioration of her social position has ever come from the Chinese sages.[143] Her children must pay her respect, but she in her turn owes to her husband the subjection of a child;[144] a wife is an infinitely less important personage than a mother in the Chinese social scale.[145] The husband has certainly not absolute power over his wife: he may not kill her, nor sell her without her consent,[146] nor even divorce her, except for certain causes specified by law.[147] But these causes are very elastic; {648} it is said that "when a woman has any quality that is not good, it is but just and reasonable to turn her out of doors."[148] And in a book containing the cream of all the moral writings of the Chinese, and intended chiefly for children, we read:--"Brothers are like hands and feet. A wife is like one's clothes. When clothes are worn out, we can substitute those that are new. When hands and feet are cut off, it is difficult to obtain substitutes for them."[149] A woman, on the other hand, cannot obtain legal separation on any account.[150] Confucius says that "man is the representative of Heaven, and is supreme over all things. Woman yields obedience to the instructions of man, and helps to carry out his principles. On this account she can determine nothing of herself, and is subject to the rule of the three obediences. When young, she must obey her father and elder brother; when married, she must obey her husband; when her husband is dead, she must obey her son."[151] In Japan, also, a woman was formerly, in the eye of the law, a chattel rather than a person. "Having all her life under her father's roof reverenced her superiors, she is expected to bring reverence to her new domicile, but not love. She must always obey but never be jealous. She must not be angry, no matter whom her husband may introduce into his household. She must wait upon him at his meals and must walk behind him, but not with him. When she dies her children go to her funeral, but not her husband."[152] In Japan a man might repudiate his wife for the same reasons as in China,[153] and till the year 1873 a wife could not obtain separation according to law.[154] However, though the Japanese wife is "the first servant of the household," training and public opinion require that she should be treated with respect, if the marriage be blessed {649} with children.[155] She is addressed as "the honourable lady of the house," and her position is said to be higher than in any other Oriental country.[156] [Footnote 143: Legge, _Religions of China_, pp. 107, 108, 111.] [Footnote 144: de Groot, _Religious System of China_, (vol. ii. Book) i. 550.] [Footnote 145: Giles, _Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio_, i. 315, n. 3.] [Footnote 146: Doolittle, _Social Life of the Chinese_, ii. 209.] [Footnote 147: Medhurst, 'Marriage, Affinity, and Inheritance in China,' in _Trans. Roy. As. Soc. China Branch_, iv. 25 _sq._ Gray, _China_, i. 219. Müller, _Reise der Fregatte Novara_, Ethnographie, p. 164.] [Footnote 148: Navarette, 'Account of the Empire of China,' in Awnsham and Churchill, _Collection of Voyages and Travels_, i. 73.] [Footnote 149: _Indo-Chinese Gleaner_, i. 164.] [Footnote 150: Gray, _op. cit._ i. 219.] [Footnote 151: Legge, _Chinese Classics_, i. 103 _sq._] [Footnote 152: Griffis, _Religions of Japan_, p. 124 _sq._] [Footnote 153: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 525.] [Footnote 154: Rein, _Japan_, p. 424 _sq._] [Footnote 155: _Ibid._ p. 425.] [Footnote 156: Norman, _The Real Japan_, p. 184. Griffis, _Religions of Japan_, p. 318.] From various quarters of the ancient world we hear of the rule that the husband shall command and the wife obey. The Lord said to the woman, "Thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee."[157] How great the husband's power was among the Hebrews we do not know exactly. He could divorce his wife if she did not please him because he had "found some uncleanness in her,"[158] whereas a wife could not legally separate from her husband.[159] In later times her condition evidently improved.[160] From the old Jewish point of view it is surely surprising to find Sirach putting the companionship of a wife not only above that of a friend, but even above children.[161] In the Talmud a husband is admonished to love his wife like himself and to honour her more than himself,[162] though he should take care not to be ruled by her;[163] and the wife also is authorised to demand a divorce under certain circumstances, namely, if the husband refuses to perform his conjugal duty, if he continues to lead a disorderly life after marriage, if he proves impotent during ten years, if he suffers from an insupportable disease, or if he leaves the country for ever.[164] [Footnote 157: **_Genesis_, iii. 16.] [Footnote 158: _Deuteronomy_, xxiv. 1.] [Footnote 159: Josephus, _Antiquitates Romanæ_, xv. 7, 10. Keil, _Manual of Biblical Archæology_, ii. 175.] [Footnote 160: _Cf._ Klugmann, _Die Frau im Talmud_, p. 63 _sq._] [Footnote 161: _Ecclesiasticus_, xl. 19, 23. _Cf._ Montefiore, _Hibbert Lectures on the Religion of the Ancient Hebrews_, p. 491.] [Footnote 162: Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 56.] [Footnote 163: _Beza_, fol. 32 B, quoted by Katz, _Der wahre Talmudjude_, p. 114.] [Footnote 164: Glasson, _Le mariage civil et le divorce_, p. 149 _sq._] In the Zoroastrian Yasts a holy woman is defined as one who is "rich in good thoughts, good words, and good deeds, well-principled, and obedient to her husband," whereas the fiendish woman is "ill-principled and disobedient to her husband."[165] According to Brahmanic law, a woman must in childhood be subject to her father, in youth {650} to her husband, when her lord is dead to her sons; "a woman must never be independent."[166] Not even in her own house is she allowed to do anything independently.[167] Him to whom her father may give her, or her brother with the father's permission, she shall obey as long as he lives.[168] She must never do anything that might displease him;[169] even though he be destitute of virtue, or unfaithful to her, "a husband must be constantly worshipped as a god by a faithful wife."[170] A wife who shows disrespect to a husband who is addicted to some evil passion, is a drunkard, or diseased, shall be deserted for three months, and be deprived of her ornaments and furniture.[171] If a wife obeys her husband, she will for that reason alone be exalted in heaven;[172] but by violating her duty towards him, she is disgraced in this world, and after death she enters the womb of a jackal, and is punished with disease for her sin.[173] There is no indication that a woman can obtain legal separation on any account, though she may with impunity "show aversion" towards a mad or outcast husband, a eunuch, one destitute of manly strength, or one afflicted with such diseases as punish crimes.[174] Again, if she is sold or repudiated by her husband, she can never become the legitimate wife of another who may have bought or received her after she was repudiated.[175] But the husband is not allowed to divorce her indiscriminately. A wife who drinks spirituous liquor, is of bad conduct, rebellious, quarrelsome, diseased, mischievous, or wasteful, may at any time be superseded by another wife; a barren one may be superseded in the eighth year; one whose children all die, in the tenth; one who bears daughters only, in the eleventh; whereas a sick wife who is kind to her husband and virtuous in her conduct, may be superseded only with her own consent, and must never be {651} disgraced.[176] The rule, "Let mutual fidelity continue until death," may be considered the summary of the highest law for husband and wife;[177] women must be honoured and adorned by husbands who desire their own welfare.[178] Various passages in the Mahabharata and Ramayana indicate that women in India were subjected to less social restraints in former days than they are at present according to the rules of Brahmanism, and even enjoyed considerable liberty;[179] and the Vedic singers know no more tender relation than that between the husband and his willing, loving wife, who is praised as "his home, the darling abode and bliss in his house."[180] Yet it is noteworthy that goddesses play a very insignificant part in the Veda.[181] In this respect the Pantheon of the Vedic people essentially differs from that of the ancient Egyptians,[182] a difference which may be due to the remarkably high position which woman seems to have occupied in Egypt.[183] [Footnote 165: _Yasts_, xxii. 18, 36. _Cf._ _Dînâ-î Maînôg-î Khirad_, xxxix. 38 _sq._] [Footnote 166: _Laws of Manu_, v. 148. _Cf._ _ibid._ ix. 2 _sq._] [Footnote 167: _Ibid._ v. 147.] [Footnote 168: _Ibid._ v. 151.] [Footnote 169: _Ibid._ v. 156.] [Footnote 170: _Ibid._ v. 154.] [Footnote 171: _Ibid._ ix. 78.] [Footnote 172: _Ibid._ v. 155. _Cf._ _ibid._ ix. 29.] [Footnote 173: _Ibid._ v. 164; ix. 30.] [Footnote 174: _Ibid._ ix. 79.] [Footnote 175: _Ibid._ ix. 46. See also the note in Bühler's translation, _Sacred Books of the East_, xxv. 335.] [Footnote 176: _Laws of Manu_, ix. 80 _sqq._] [Footnote 177: _Ibid._ ix. 101.] [Footnote 178: _Ibid._ iii. 55 _sqq._] [Footnote 179: Zimmer, _Altindisches Leben_, p. 316 _sqq._ Monier Williams, _Indian Wisdom_, p. 437 _sq._] [Footnote 180: Kaegi, _Rigveda_, p. 15.] [Footnote 181: Macdonell, _Vedic Mythology_, p. 124 _sq._] [Footnote 182: Maspero, _Dawn of Civilisation_, p. 101 _sq._] [Footnote 183: _Ibid._ p. 52. Maspero, _Life in Ancient Egypt and Assyria_, p. 11. Amélineau _L'évolution des idées morales dans l'Égypte Ancienne_, p. 68 _sqq._ Flinders Petrie, _Religion and Conscience in Ancient Egypt_, p. 131 _sq._ Brugsch, _Aegyptologie_, p. 61 _sq._] In Greece, also, a wife appears to have been a more influential and independent personage in ancient times, in Homeric society, than she became afterwards.[184] In the historic age her position was simply that of the domestic drudge; her virtues were reduced to the maintenance of good order in her household and obedience to her husband; her greatest ornament was silence.[185] Aristotle, always a faithful exponent of the most enlightened opinion of his age, gives the following description of what he considers to be the ideal relation of a woman to her husband:--"A good and perfect wife ought to be mistress {652} of everything within the house. . . . But the well-ordered wife will justly consider the behaviour of her husband as a model of her own life, and a law to herself, invested with a divine sanction by means of the marriage tie and the community of life. . . . The wife ought to show herself even more obedient to the rein than if she had entered the house as a purchased slave. For she has been bought at a high price, for the sake of sharing life and bearing children, than which no higher or holier tie can possibly exist."[186] So also, according to Plutarch, the husband ought to rule his wife, but by sympathy and goodwill, as the soul governs the body, not as a master does a chattel.[187] The law invalidated whatever a husband did by the counsel, or at the request, of his wife, whereas the wife, on her part, could transact no business of importance in her own favour, nor by will dispose of more than the value of a bushel of barley.[188] Yet whatever may have been the exact compass of the husband's power in Greece, it was not unlimited. At Athens a woman could demand divorce if she was ill-treated by her husband, in which case she merely had to announce her wishes before the archon.[189] [Footnote 184: Hermann-Blümner, _Lehrbuch der griechischen Privatalterthümer_, p. 64 _sqq._ Mahaffy, _Social Life in Greece_, p. 53.] [Footnote 185: Dickinson, _Greek View of Life_, p. 161. Döllinger, _The Gentile and the Jew_, ii. 234. 'State of Female Society in Greece,' in _Quarterly Review_, xxii. 172 _sqq._] [Footnote 186: Aristotle, _[OE]conomica_, i. 7. _Cf._ _Idem_, _De animalibus historia_, ix. 1. 2 _sqq._] [Footnote 187: Plutarch, _Conjugalia præcepta_, 33.] [Footnote 188: Isaeus, _Oratio de Aristarchi hereditate_, 10, p. 259. Döllinger, _op. cit._ ii. 234.] [Footnote 189: Glasson, _Le mariage civil et le divorce_, p. 152 _sq._ Meier and Schömann, _Der attische Process_, p. 512.] In Rome, in ancient times, the power which the father possessed over his daughter was generally, if not always,[190] by marriage transferred to the husband.[191] When marrying a woman passed in _manum viri_, as a wife she was _filiæ loco_, that is, in law she was her husband's daughter.[192] And since the Roman house-father originally had the _jus vitæ necisque_ over his children, the husband naturally had the same power over his wife. But from her being destitute of all legal rights we must not conclude that she was {653} treated with indignity. On the contrary, she generally had a respected and influential position in the family;[193] and though the husband could repudiate her at will, it was said that for five hundred and twenty years _a condita urbe_ there was no such thing as a divorce in Rome.[194] As Mr. Bryce points out, we cannot doubt that the wide power which the law gave to the husband "was in point of fact restrained within narrow limits, not only by affection, but also by the vigilant public opinion of a comparatively small community."[195] Gradually, however, marriage with _manus_ fell into disuse, and was, under the Empire, generally superseded by marriage without _manus_, a form of wedlock which conferred on the husband hardly any authority at all over his wife. Instead of passing into his power, she remained in the power of her father; and since the tendency of the later law, as we have seen, was to reduce the old _patria potestas_ to a nullity, she became practically independent.[196] [Footnote 190: Rossbach, _Römische Ehe_, p. 64. Maine, _Ancient Law_, p. 155.] [Footnote 191: Or, properly speaking, to the husband's father, if he was still alive (Rossbach, _op. cit._ p. 11).] [Footnote 192: Leist, _Alt-arische Juris Civile_, i. 175. Maine, _op. cit._ p. 155.] [Footnote 193: Rossbach, _op. cit._ pp. 36, 117.] [Footnote 194: Valerius Maximus, ii. 1 (_De matrimoniorum ritu_), Aulus Gellius, _Noctes Atticæ_, iv. 3. 1.] [Footnote 195: Bryce, _Studies in History and Jurisprudence_, ii. 389.] [Footnote 196: Rossbach, _op. cit._ pp. 30, 42. Maine, _op. cit._ p. 155 _sq._ Friedlaender, _Darstellungen aus der Sittengeschichte Roms_, i. 252 _sqq._] This remarkable liberty granted to married women, however, was only a passing incident in the history of the family in Europe. From the very first Christianity tended to narrow it. Already the latest Roman law, so far as it is touched by the Constitutions of the Christian Emperors, bears some marks of a reaction against the liberal doctrines of the great Antonine jurisconsults, who assumed the equality of the sexes as a principle of their code of equity.[197] And this tendency was in a formidable degree supported by Teutonic custom and law. Among the Teutons a husband's authority over his wife was the same as a father's over his unmarried daughter.[198] This power, which under certain circumstances gave the husband a right to kill, sell, or repudiate his wife,[199] undoubtedly {654} contained much more than the Church could approve of, and so far she has helped to ameliorate the condition of married women in Teutonic countries. But at the same time the Church is largely responsible for those heavy disabilities with regard to personal liberty, as well as with regard to property, from which they have suffered up to recent times. The systems, says Sir Henry Maine, "which are least indulgent to married women are invariably those which have followed the Canon Law exclusively, or those which, from the lateness of their contact with European civilisation, have never had their archaisms weeded out."[200] [Footnote 197: Maine, _op. cit._ pp. 156, 154.] [Footnote 198: Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, i. 75. Stemann, _Den danske Retshistorie indtil Christian V.'s Lov_, p. 323.] [Footnote 199: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 450 _sq._ Brunner, _op. cit._ i. 75. Schröder, _Lehrbuch der deutschen Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 303.] [Footnote 200: Maine, _op. cit._ p. 159.] Christianity enjoins a husband to love his wife as his own body,[201] to do honour unto her as unto the weaker vessel.[202] However, "man is not of the woman; but the woman of the man. Neither was the man created for the woman; but the woman for the man. For this cause ought the woman to have power on her head."[203] The husband is the head of the wife, as Christ is the head of the church; hence, "as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing."[204] It is difficult to exaggerate the influence exercised by a doctrine, so agreeable to the selfishness of men, and so readily lending itself to be used as a sacred weapon against almost any attempt to extend the rights of married women, as was this dictum of St. Paul's. In an essay on the position of women among the early Christians Principal Donaldson writes, "In the first three centuries I have not been able to see that Christianity had any favourable effect on the position of women, but, on the contrary, that it tended to lower their character and contract the range of their activity."[205] And in more modern times Christian orthodoxy has constantly been opposed to the doctrine which once sprang up in pagan {655} Rome and is nowadays supported by a steadily growing number of enlightened men and women, that marriage should be a contract on the footing of perfect equality between husband and wife. [Footnote 201: _Ephesians_, v. 28.] [Footnote 202: _1 Peter_, iii. 7.] [Footnote 203: _1 Corinthians_, xi. 8 _sqq._ _Cf._ _Timothy_, ii. 11 _sqq._] [Footnote 204: _Ephesians_, v. 23 _sq._] [Footnote 205: Donaldson, 'Position of Women among the Early Christians,' in _Contemporary Review_, lvi. 433.] * * * * * The position of married women among the various peoples on earth depends on such a variety of circumstances that it would be impossible to enumerate them all. We shall here consider only the most important. A few words must first be said about the hypothesis that the social _status_ of women is connected with the system of tracing descent. Dr. Steinmetz has tried to show that the husband's authority over his wife is, broadly speaking, greater among those peoples who reckon kinship through the father than among those who reckon kinship through the mother only.[206] The cases examined by Dr. Steinmetz, however, are too few to allow of any general conclusions, and the statements concerning the husband's rights are commonly so indefinite and so incomplete that I think the evidence would be difficult to produce, even if the investigation were based on a larger number of facts. Besides, the paternal and maternal systems of descent are often so interwoven with each other among one and the same people, that it may equally well be referred to the one class as to the other[207]--a difficulty which Dr. Steinmetz must surely have felt in his attempt to treat the subject statistically. There is, moreover, the weak point of the statistical method generally, the question of selecting ethnographical units, which I have discussed in another place.[208] How, for instance, are we to deal with the various tribes of Australia? They can certainly not, all in a lump, be counted as one single unit; among some of them the maternal system prevails, among others the paternal. But then, shall we reckon each tribe as one {656} unit by itself, or, if not, into how many groups shall we divide them? When I compare with each other peoples of the same race, at the same stage of culture, living in the same neighbourhood, under similar conditions of life, but differing from one another in their method of reckoning kinship, I do not find that the prevalence of the one or the other line of descent conspicuously affects the husband's authority. Nothing of the kind has been noticed in Australia, nor, so far as I know, in India, where the paternal system among many of the aboriginal tribes is combined with great, or even extraordinary, rights on the part of the wife. Among the West African Negroes the position of women is, to all appearance, no less honourable in tribes like the Ibos, among whom inheritance runs through males, than in tribes which admit inheritance through females only;[209] and of the Fulah, among whom succession goes from father to son,[210] Mr. Winwood Reade observes that their women are "the most tyrannical wives in Africa," knowing "how to make their husbands kneel before their charms, and how to place their little feet upon them."[211] But we have reason to believe that when the man, on marrying, quits his home and goes to live with his wife in the house or community of her father, his authority over his wife is commonly more or less impaired by the presence of her father or kinsfolk.[212] In Sumatra, in the mode of marriage called _ambel anak_, he lives with his father-in-law in a state between that of a son and that of a debtor.[213] But it should be noticed that neither his living with the family of his wife, nor even his dependence on her father, necessarily implies a total absence of marital power. Among the Californian Yokuts, though the husband takes up his abode in his {657} wife's or father-in-law's house, he is expressly stated to have the power of life and death over her.[214] So, also, in the Western islands of Torres Straits, though a man after marriage usually left his own people and went to live with those of his wife, he had complete control over her. "In spite of the wife having asked her husband to marry her, he could kill her should she cause trouble in the house, and that without any penal consequence to himself. The payment of a husband to his wife's father gave him all rights over her, and at the same time annulled those of her father or her family."[215] [Footnote 206: Steinmetz, _Ethnologische Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, ii. ch. 7.] [Footnote 207: _Cf._ Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 99 _sqq._] [Footnote 208: _Idem_, 'Méthode pour la recherche des institutions préhistoriques à propos d'un ouvrage du professeur Kohler,' in _Revue Internationale de Sociologie_, v. 451.] [Footnote 209: Ratzel, _op. cit._ iii. 124.] [Footnote 210: Waitz, _op. cit._ ii, 469.] [Footnote 211: Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 452.] [Footnote 212: See Mazzarella, _La condizione giuridica del marito nella famiglia matriarcale_, _passim_; Grosse, _Die Formen der Familie_, p. 76; Wilkes, _U.S. Exploring Expedition_, iv. 447 (Spokane Indians). It seems, however, that Dr. Mazzarella in several cases infers the husband's complete subjection to his father-in-law from statements in which such a subjection is not really implied.] [Footnote 213: Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 262.] [Footnote 214: Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 382.] [Footnote 215: Haddon, _Head-Hunters_, p. 160 _sq._] In the first place, wives' subjection to their husbands is due to the men's instinctive desire to exert power and to the natural inferiority of women in such qualities of body and mind as are essential for personal independence. Generally speaking, the men are their superiors in strength and courage. They are therefore not only the protectors of their wives, but also their masters. In the sexual impulse itself there are elements which lead to domination on the part of the man and to submission on the part of the woman. In courtship, animal and human alike, the male plays the more active, the female the more passive part. During the season of love the males even of the most timid animal species engage in desperate combats with each other for the possession of the female, and there can be no doubt that our primeval human ancestors had, in the same way, to fight for their wives; even now this kind of courtship is far from being unknown among savages.[216] Moreover, the male pursues and tries to capture the female, and she, after some resistance, finally surrenders herself to him. The sexual impulse of the male is thus connected with a desire to win the female, and the sexual impulse of the female with a desire to be pursued and won by the male. In the female sex there is consequently an instinctive appreciation of manly strength and courage; this is found in most {658} women, and especially in the women of savage races, who, like the females of the lower Vertebrates, commonly give the preference to "the most vigorous, defiant, and mettlesome male."[217] And woman enjoys the display of manly force even when it turns against herself. It is said that among the Slavs of the lower class the wives feel hurt if they are not beaten by their husbands; that the peasant women in some parts of Hungary do not think they are loved by their husbands until they have received the first box on the ear; that among the Italian Camorrists a wife who is not beaten by her husband regards him as a fool.[218] Dr. Havelock Ellis believes that the majority of women would probably be prepared to echo the remark made by a woman in front of Rubens's 'Rape of the Sabines,' "I think the Sabine women enjoyed being carried off like that."[219] The same judicious student of the psychology of sex observes:--"While in men it is possible to trace a tendency to inflict pain, or the simulacrum of pain, on the women they love, it is still easier to trace in women a delight in experiencing physical pain when inflicted by a lover, and an eagerness to accept subjection to his will. Such a tendency is certainly normal. To abandon herself to her lover, to be able to rely on his physical strength and mental resourcefulness, to be swept out of herself and beyond the control of her own will, to drift idly in delicious submission to another and stronger will--this is one of the commonest aspirations in a young woman's intimate love-dreams."[220] [Footnote 216: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 159 _sqq._] [Footnote 217: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 255 _sq._] [Footnote 218: Havelock Ellis, _Studies in the Psychology of Sex_, 'Analysis of the Sexual Impulse,' &c. p. 66 _sq._] [Footnote 219: _Ibid._ p. 75.] [Footnote 220: _Ibid._ p. 74.] But although a certain degree of submissiveness comes within the normal limits of female love, though "a woman may desire to be forced, to be roughly forced, to be ravished away beyond her own will." she all the time only desires to be forced towards those things which are essentially agreeable to her.[221] If the man's domination is carried beyond those limits, it is no longer enjoyed by the {659} woman, but is felt as a burden, and may call forth resistance. In extreme cases of oppression, at any rate, the community at large would sympathise with her, and the public resentment against the oppressor would gradually result in customs or laws limiting the husband's rights. Yet perfect impartiality is hardly to be expected from the community. The men are the leaders of public opinion, and they have a tendency to favour their own sex. On the other hand, the offended woman may count upon the support of her fellow-sisters, and thus the women combined may influence tribal habits and, ultimately, the rules of custom. Among the Papuans of Port Moresby, for instance, "it is a rare occurrence for a man to beat his wife, and he does not like to be reminded of the fact if hasty temper has led him into this mistake. The other women generally make a song about it, and sing it whenever he appears; and as no one is so sensitive of ridicule as a New Guinean savage, he will endure a great deal, even from a shrew wife, before he attempts to lift his hand."[222] Among the West African Fulah, if a man repudiates his wife, the women of the village attack him _en masse_; "like the members of a priesthood, they hate but protect each other."[223] We have, moreover, to consider that the children's affection and regard for their mother gives her a power which is no less real because it is not definitely expressed in custom or law. In Oriental countries, for example, the mother is always an important personage in the family. Children are afraid of their father but love their mother, and when grown-up would certainly be ready to protect her against a cruel husband.[224] [Footnote 221: _Ibid._ p. 85.] [Footnote 222: Nisbet, _A Colonial Tramp_, ii. 181 _sq._] [Footnote 223: Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 452. See also Möller, Pagels, and Gleerup, _op. cit._ i. 171 (Lukungu); Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 324 (Beni Amer).] [Footnote 224: _Cf._ Burton, _Sindh Revisited_, i. 293; Urquhart, _Spirit of the East_, ii. 265 _sq._; Doughty, _Arabia Deserta_, i. 239; Westermarck, 'Position of Woman in Early Civilisation,' in _Sociological Papers_, [1.] p. 160.] It has often been said that the position of women and the degree of their dependence among a certain people are largely influenced by economic conditions. Thus Mr. {660} Hale maintains that the condition of women is "a question of physical comfort, and mainly of the abundance or lack of food. . . . When men in their full strength suffer from lack of the necessaries of existence, and are themselves slaves to the rigours of the elements, their better feelings are benumbed or perverted, like those of shipwrecked people famishing on a raft. Under such circumstances the weaker members of the community--women, children, the old, the sick--are naturally the chief sufferers."[225] With reference to the North American Indians the observation has been made that, where the women can aid in procuring subsistence for the tribe, they are treated with more equality, and their importance is proportioned to the share which they take in that labour; whereas in places where subsistence is chiefly procured by the exertions of the men, the women are considered and treated as burdens. Thus, the position of women is exceptionally good in tribes living upon fish and roots, which the women procure with the same expertness as the men, whereas it is among tribes living by the chase, or by other means in which women can be of little service, that we find the sex most oppressed.[226] Dr. Grosse, again, emphasises the low _status_ of women not only among hunters, but among pastoral tribes as well. "The women," he says, "not being permitted to take part in the rearing of cattle, and not being able to take part in war, possess nothing which could command respect with the rude shepherd and robber."[227] Among the lower agricultural tribes, on the other hand, Dr. Grosse adds, the position of the female sex is often higher. The cultivation of the ground mostly devolves on the woman, and among peoples who chiefly subsist by agriculture it is not an occupation which is looked down upon, as it is among nomadic tribes. This gives the woman a {661} certain standing, owing to her importance as a food-provider.[228] [Footnote 225: Hale, 'Language as a Test of Mental Capacity,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxi. 427.] [Footnote 226: Lewis and Clarke, _Travels to the Source of the Missouri River_, p. 441. Waitz, _op. cit._ iii. 343. Bancroft, _Native Races of the Pacific States_, i. 242 _sq._] [Footnote 227: Grosse, _op. cit._ pp. 48, 49, 74, 75, 109 _sqq._] [Footnote 228: _Ibid._ p. 182.] In these generalisations there is no doubt a great deal of truth; but they do not hold good universally or without modifications. Among several peoples who subsist chiefly by the chase or the rearing of cattle, the position of women is exceedingly good. To mention only one instance out of many, Professor Vámbéry observes that among the nomadic Kara-Kirghiz the female sex is treated with greater respect than among those Turks who lead a stationary life and practise agriculture.[229] Indeed, the general theory that women are more oppressed in proportion as they are less useful, is open to doubt. Commonly they are said to be oppressed by their savage husbands just by being compelled to work too hard; and that work does not necessarily give authority is obvious from the institution of slavery. But at the same time the notion, prevalent in early civilisation, that the one sex must not in any way interfere with the pursuits of the other sex, may certainly, especially when applied to an occupation of such importance as agriculture, increase the influence of those who are engaged in it. Considering further that the cultivated soil is not infrequently regarded as the property of the women who till it,[230] it is probable that, in certain cases at least, the agricultural habits of a people have had a favourable effect upon the general condition of the female sex, and at the same time on the wife's position in the family. [Footnote 229: Vámbéry, _Das Türkenvolk_, p. 268.] [Footnote 230: Grosse, _op. cit._ p. 159 _sq._] The _status_ of wives is in various respects connected with the ideas held about the female sex in general. Woman is commonly looked upon as a slight, dainty, and relatively feeble creature, destitute of all nobler qualities.[231] Especially among nations more advanced in culture she is regarded as intellectually and morally vastly inferior to man. In Greece, in the historic age, the latter recognised {662} in her no other end than to minister to his pleasure or to become the mother of his children. There was also a general notion that she was naturally more vicious, more addicted to envy, discontent, evil-speaking, and wantonness, than the man.[232] Plato classes women together with children and servants,[233] and states generally that in all the pursuits of mankind the female sex is inferior to the male.[234] Euripides puts into the mouth of his Medea the remark that "women are impotent for good, but clever contrivers of all evil."[235] According to the Vedic singer, again, "woman's mind is hard to direct aright, and her judgment is small."[236] To the Buddhist, women are of all the snares which the tempter has spread for men the most dangerous; in women are embodied all the powers of infatuation which bind the mind of the world.[237] The Chinese have a saying to the effect that the best girls are not equal to the worst boys.[238] Islam pronounces the general depravity of women to be much greater than that of men.[239] According to Muhammedan tradition, the Prophet said:--"I have not left any calamity more hurtful to man than woman. . . . O assembly of women, give alms, although it be of your gold and silver ornaments; for verily ye are mostly of Hell on the Day of Resurrection."[240] The Hebrews represented woman as the source of evil and death on earth:--"Of the woman came the beginning of sin, and through her we all die."[241] This notion passed into Christianity. Says St. Paul, "Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression."[242] Tertullian maintains that a woman should go about in humble garb, mourning and repentant, in order to expiate that which she derives from Eve, the ignominy {663} of the first sin, and the odium attaching to her as the cause of human perdition. "Do you not know," he exclaims, "that you are each an Eve? The sentence of God on this sex of yours lives in this age; the guilt must of necessity live too. You are the devil's gateway; you are the unsealer of that [forbidden] tree; you are the first deserter of the divine law; you are she who persuaded him whom the devil was not valiant enough to attack. You destroyed so easily God's image, man. On account of your desert--that is, death--even the Son of God had to die."[243] At the Council of Mâcon, towards the end of the sixth century, a bishop even raised the question whether woman really was a human being. He answered the question in the negative; but the majority of the assembly considered it to be proved by Scripture that woman, in spite of all her defects, yet was a member of the human race.[244] However, some of the Fathers of the Church were careful to emphasise that womanhood only belongs to this earthly existence, and that on the day of resurrection all women will appear in the shape of sexless beings.[245] [Footnote 231: Crawley, _The Mystic Rose_, p. 204 _sq._] [Footnote 232: Dickinson, _op. cit._ p. 159. Döllinger, _op. cit._ ii. 234.] [Footnote 233: Plato, _Respublica_, iv. 431.] [Footnote 234: _Ibid._ v. 455.] [Footnote 235: Euripides, _Medea_, 406 _sqq._] [Footnote 236: _Rig-Veda_, viii. 33. 17.] [Footnote 237: Oldenburg, _Buddha_, p. 165. _Cf._ Kern, _Manual of Indian Buddhism_, p. 69.] [Footnote 238: Smith, _Proverbs of the Chinese_, p. 265.] [Footnote 239: Lane, _Arabian Society_, p. 219. _Cf._ Doughty, _Arabia Deserta_, i. 238.] [Footnote 240: Lane-Poole, _Speeches of Mohammad_, pp. 161, 163.] [Footnote 241: _Ecclesiasticus_, xxv. 24.] [Footnote 242: _1 Timothy_, ii. 14.] [Footnote 243: Tertullian, _De cultu f[oe]minarum_, i. 1 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, i. 1305). See also Laurent, _Études sur l'histoire de l'humanité_, iv. 113.] [Footnote 244: Gregory of Tours, _Historia Francorum_, viii. 20.] [Footnote 245: St. Hilar., _Commentarius in Matthæum_, xxiii. 4 (Migne, _op. cit._ ix. 1045 _sq._). St. Basil, _Homilia in Psalmum cxiv._ 5 (Migne, _op. cit._ Ser. Graeca, xxix. 488).] Progress in civilisation has exercised an unfavourable influence on the position of woman by widening the gulf between the sexes, as the higher culture was almost exclusively the prerogative of the men. Moreover, religion, and especially the great religions in the world, have contributed to the degradation of the female sex by regarding woman as unclean. During menstruation, or when with child, or at child-birth, she is considered to be polluted, to be charged with mysterious baneful energy, which is a danger to all around her.[246] The cause of this notion seems to lie in the {664} superstitious dread of those marvellous processes which then take place, and it reaches its height where there is appearance of blood.[247] On such occasions woman is shunned not only by men, but in an even higher degree by gods, for the obvious reason that contact with the unclean woman would injure or destroy their holiness. Indeed, the danger is considered so great, that many religions regard women as defiled not only temporarily, but permanently, and on that ground exclude them from religious worship. [Footnote 246: Ploss-Bartels, _Das Weib_, i. 420 _sqq._; ii. 10 _sqq._, 402 _sqq._ Frazer, _Golden Bough_, i. 325 _sqq._; iii. 222 _sqq._ Crawley, _op. cit._ p. 165 _sqq._; Mathew, _Eaglehawk and Crow_, p. 144 (Australian aborigines), de Rochas, _Nouvelle Calédonie_, p. 283. Mooney, 'Myths of the Cherokee,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xix. 469. Sumner, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 96 (Jakuts). Georgi, _Russia_, iii. 25 _sq._ (Samoyedes), 245, _sq._ (Shamanists of Siberia generally); &c.] [Footnote 247: Professor Durkheim maintains ('La prohibition de l'inceste et ses origines,' in _L'année sociologique_, i. especially p. 48 _sqq._) that the origin of the occult powers attributed to the feminine organism is to be found in primitive ideas concerning blood, any kind of blood, not only menstrual, being the object of similar feelings among savages and barbarians. Mr. Crawley justly remarks (_op. cit._ p. 212) that there is no flux of blood during pregnancy, when woman is regularly taboo; that her hair, nail-parings, and occupations can hardly be avoided from a fear of her blood; and that there is also the female side of the question to be taken into account.] In the Society Islands a woman was forbidden to touch whatever was presented as an offering to the gods, so as not to pollute it.[248] In Melanesia women are generally excluded from religious rites.[249] Among the Shamanists of Siberia women "are interdicted the worship of the deities, and dare not pass round the common hearth of their habitations, because fire is sacred to the gods."[250] The women of the Voguls are generally prohibited from approaching idols or holy places.[251] A Votyak woman may not be present at the sacrifices made to the _lud_, or evil spirit.[252] Among the Lapps a woman was not allowed to touch a _noaid_'s, or wizard's, drum; nor, as a rule, to take part in sacrificial rites; nor even to look in the direction of a place where sacrifices were offered.[253] Among the Ainos of Japan, "though a woman may prepare a divine offering, she may not offer it. . . . Accordingly, women are never allowed to pray, or to take any part in any religious {665} exercise."[254] In China women are not allowed to go and worship in the temples.[255] [Footnote 248: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 129. _Cf._ Wegener, _Geschichte der christlichen Kirche auf dem Gesellschafts-Archipel_, p. 181.] [Footnote 249: Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 127.] [Footnote 250: Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 245. _Cf._ _ibid._ iii. 25.] [Footnote 251: Abercromby, _Pre- and Proto-historic Finns_, i. 181.] [Footnote 252: Wichmann, _Tietoja Votjaakkien Mytologiiasta_, p. 17. See also _ibid._ p. 27.] [Footnote 253: von Düben, _Lappland och Lapparne_, p. 276. Friis, _Lappisk Mythologi_, p. 147.] [Footnote 254: Howard, _op. cit._ p. 195.] [Footnote 255: _Indo-Chinese Gleaner_, iii. 156.] In ancient Nicaragua women were held unworthy to perform any duty in connection with the temples, and were immolated outside the temple ground of the large sanctuaries, and even their flesh was unclean food for the high priest, who accordingly ate only the flesh of males.[256] In Mexico, although some women were employed in the immediate service of the temples, they were entirely excluded from the office of sacrificing, and the higher dignities of the priesthood.[257] [Footnote 256: Bancroft, _op. cit._ iii. 494.] [Footnote 257: Clavigero, _History of Mexico_, i. 274 _sq._] According to the sacred books of India, "women are considered to have no business with the sacred texts";[258] and, being destitute of the knowledge of Vedic texts, they "are as impure as falsehood itself, that is a fixed rule."[259] Although, according to a Vedic ordinance mentioned in the Laws of Manu, husband and wife ought to perform religious rites together,[260] they have, among the present Hindus, no religious life in common; the women are not allowed to repeat the Veda, or to go through the morning and evening Sandhy[=a] services.[261] If a woman, a dog, or a Sûdra, touch a consecrated image, its godship is destroyed; the ceremonies of deification must therefore be performed afresh, whilst a clay image, if thus defiled, must be thrown away. If women should worship before a consecrated image, they must keep at a respectful distance from the idol.[262] [Footnote 258: _Baudhâyana_, i. 5. 11. 7.] [Footnote 259: _Laws of Manu_, ix. 18. _Cf._ _ibid._ ii. 66; iii. 121.] [Footnote 260: _Ibid._ ix. 96.] [Footnote 261: Monier Williams, _Br[=a]hmanism and Hind[=u]ism_, p. 398.] [Footnote 262: Ward, _View of the History, &c., of the Hindoos_, ii. 13, 36.] Islam is chiefly a religion for men. Though Muhammed did not forbid women to attend public prayers in a mosque, he pronounced it better for them to pray in private, as the presence of females might inspire in the men a different kind of devotion from that which is requisite in a place dedicated to the worship of God.[263] Women are absolutely excluded from many Muhammedan places of worship, and are frowned upon if they venture to appear in others, at any rate while men are there.[264] [Footnote 263: Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 94.] [Footnote 264: Pool, _Studies in Mohammedanism_, p. 39 _sq._] In Christian Europe, as ascetic ideas advanced, the women sat or stood in the church apart from the men, and entered by a separate door.[265] They were excluded from sacred functions. {666} In the early Church, it is true, there were "deaconesses" and clerical "widows," but their offices were merely to perform some inferior services of the church;[266] and even these very modest posts were open only to virgins or widows of a considerable age.[267] Whilst a layman could in case of necessity administer baptism, a woman could never, as it seems, perform such an act.[268] Nor was a woman allowed to preach publicly in the church, either by the Apostle's rules or those of succeeding ages;[269] and it was a serious complaint against certain heretics that they allowed such a practice. "The heretic women," Tertullian exclaims, "how wanton are they! they who dare to teach, to dispute, to practise exorcisms, to promise cures, perchance, also, to baptise!"[270] A Council held at Auxerre at the end of the sixth century forbade women to receive the Eucharist into their naked hands;[271] and in various Canons women were enjoined not to come near to the altar while mass was celebrating.[272] To such an extent was this opposition against women carried that the Church of the Middle Ages did not hesitate to provide itself with eunuchs in order to supply cathedral choirs with the soprano tones inhering by nature in women alone.[273] [Footnote 265: Donaldson, in _Contemporary Review_, lvi. 438.] [Footnote 266: Zscharnack, _Der Dienst der Frau in den ersten Jahrhunderten der christlichen Kirche_, p. 99 _sqq._ Robinson, _Ministry of Deaconesses_, _passim_.] [Footnote 267: _Ibid._ pp. 113, 114, 125.] [Footnote 268: Bingham, _Works_, iv. 45. Zscharnack, _op. cit._ p. 93.] [Footnote 269: Bingham, _op. cit._ v. 107 _sqq._ Zscharnack, _op. cit._ p. 73 _sqq._] [Footnote 270: Tertullian, _De præscriptionibus adversus hæreticos_, 41 (Migne, _op. cit._ ii. 56). _Cf._ Tertullian, _De baptismo_, 17 (Migne, _op. cit._ i. 1219).] [Footnote 271: _Concilium Autisiodorense_, A.D. 578, can. 36 (Labbe-Mansi, _Sacrorum Conciliorum collectio_, ix. 915).] [Footnote 272: _Canones Concilii Laodiceni_, 44 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ ii. 581, 589). 'Epitome canonum, quam Hadrianus I. Carolo Magno obtulit, A.D. DCCLXXIII.,' in Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ xii. 868. _Canons enacted under King Edgar_, 44 (_Ancient Laws and Institutes of England_, p. 399).] [Footnote 273: _Cf._ Gage, _Woman, Church and State_, p. 57.] But the notion that woman is either temporarily or permanently unclean, that she is a mysterious being charged with supernatural energy, is not only a cause of her degradation; it also gives her a secret power over her husband, which may be very considerable. During my stay among the country people of Morocco, Arabs and Berbers alike, I was often struck by the superstitious fear with which the women imbued the men. They are supposed to be much better versed in magic, and have also splendid opportunities to practise it to the detriment {667} of their husbands, as they may easily bewitch the food they prepare for them. For instance, the wife only needs to cut off a little piece of a donkey's ear and put it into the husband's food. What happens? By eating that little piece the husband will, in his relations to his wife, become just like a donkey; he will always listen to what she says, and the wife will become the ruler of the house. I also believe that the men on purpose abstain from teaching the women prayers, so as not to increase their supernatural power.[274] In the Arabian Desert men are likewise afraid of their women "with their sly philters and maleficent drinks."[275] In Dahomey "the husband may not chastise or interfere with his wife whilst the fetish is 'upon' her, and even at other times the use of the rod might be dangerous."[276] Women, and especially old ones, are very frequently regarded as experts in magic. [277] Among the ancient Arabs,[278] Babylonians,[279] and Peruvians,[280] as in Europe during the Middle Ages and later, the witch appeared more frequently than the male sorcerer. So, also, in the Government of Tomsk in Southern Siberia, native sorceresses are much more numerous than wizards;[281] and among the Californian Shastika all, or nearly all, of the {668} shamans are women.[282] The curses of women are greatly feared. In Morocco it is considered even a greater calamity to be cursed by a Shereefa, or female descendant of the Prophet, than to be cursed by a Shereef. According to the Talmud, the anger of a wife destroys the house;[283] but, on the other hand, it is also through woman that God's blessings are vouchsafed to it.[284] We read in the Laws of Manu:--"Women must be honoured and adorned by their fathers, brothers, husbands, and brothers-in-law, who desire their own welfare. Where women are honoured, there the gods are pleased; but where they are not honoured, no sacred rite yields rewards. Where the female relations live in grief, the family soon wholly perishes; but that family where they are not unhappy ever prospers. The houses on which female relations, not being duly honoured, pronounce a curse, perish completely as if destroyed by magic. Hence men who seek their own welfare should always honour women on holidays and festivals with gifts of ornaments, clothes, and dainty food."[285] A Gaelic proverb says, "A wicked woman will get her wish, though her soul may not see salvation."[286] Closely connected with the belief in the magic power of women, and especially, I think, in the great efficacy of their curses, is the custom according to which a woman may serve as an asylum.[287] In various tribes of Morocco, especially among the Berbers and Jbâla, a person who takes refuge with a woman by touching her is safe from his persecutor. Among the Arabs of the plains this custom is dying out, probably owing to their subjection under the Sultan's government; but amongst certain Asiatic Bedouins, the tribe of Shammar, "a woman can protect any number of persons, or even of tents."[288] {669} Among the Circassians "a stranger who intrusts himself to the patronage of a woman, or is able to touch with his mouth the breast of a wife, is spared and protected as a relation of the blood, though he were the enemy, nay even the murderer of a similar relative."[289] The inhabitants of Bareges in Bigorre have, up to recent times, preserved the old custom of pardoning a criminal who has sought refuge with a woman.[290] [Footnote 274: We are told that among the Ainos of Japan women are forbidden to pray, not only in conformity with ancestral custom, but because the men are afraid of the prayers of the women in general, and of their wives in particular. An old man said to Mr. Batchelor:--"The women as well as the men used to be allowed to worship the gods and take part in all religious exercises; but our wise honoured ancestors forbade them to do so, because it was thought they might use their prayers against the men, and more particularly against their husbands. We therefore think that it is wiser to keep them from praying" (Batchelor, _Ainu and their Folk-Lore_, p. 550 _sq._ Howard, _op. cit._ p. 195). Among the Santals the men are careful not to divulge the names of their household gods to their wives, for fear lest the latter should acquire undue influence with the gods, become witches, and "eat up the family with impunity when the protection of its gods has been withdrawn" (Risley, _Tribes and Castes of Bengal_, _Ethnographic Glossary_, ii. 232).] [Footnote 275: Doughty, _Arabia Deserta_, ii. 384.] [Footnote 276: Burton, _Mission to Gelele_, ii. 155.] [Footnote 277: Ploss-Bartels, _op. cit._ ii. 664, 666 _sqq._ Mason, _op. cit._ p. 255 _sqq._ Landtman, _Origin of Priesthood_, p. 198 _sq._ Angas, _Savage Life and Scenes in Australia and New Zealand_, i. 317 (Maoris). Connolly, 'Social Life in Fanti-land,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. 150.] [Footnote 278: Wellhausen, _Reste arabischen Heidentums_, p. 159.] [Footnote 279: Jastrow, _Religion of Babylonia_, pp. 267, 342.] [Footnote 280: Garcilasso de la Vega, _First Part of the Royal Commentaries of the Yncas_, i. 60.] [Footnote 281: Kostroff, quoted by Landtman, _op. cit._ p. 199.] [Footnote 282: Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 246.] [Footnote 283: _Sota_, fol. 3 B, quoted by Katz, _Der wahre Talmudjude_, p. 110 _sq._] [Footnote 284: _Baba Meziah_, fol. 59 A, quoted _ibid._ p. 112. Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 56.] [Footnote 285: _Laws of Manu_, iii. 55 _sqq._] [Footnote 286: Carmichael, _Carmina Gadelica_, ii. 317.] [Footnote 287: For some instances of this custom see Andree, 'Die Asyle,' in _Globus_, xxxviii. 302; Bachofen, _Das Mutterrecht_, p. 420 (Basques).] [Footnote 288: Layard, _Discoveries in the Ruins of Nineveh and Babylon_, p. 318.] [Footnote 289: Pallas, _Travels through the Southern Provinces of the Russian Empire_, i. 404.] [Footnote 290: Fischer, _Bergreisen_, i. 60.] Yet another factor remains to be mentioned as a cause of the subjection in which married women are held by many peoples of culture. We have noticed that in archaic civilisation the father's power over his children is extreme, that the State whilst weakening or destroying the clan-tie strengthened the family-tie, and that the father was invested with some part of the power which formerly belonged to the clan.[291] This process must also have affected the _status_ of married women. The husband's power over his wife is closely connected with the father's power over his daughter; for, by giving her in marriage, he generally transfers to the husband the authority which he himself previously possessed over her as a paternal right. [Footnote 291: _Supra_, ch. xxv. especially p. 627 _sq._] In modern civilisation, on the other hand, we find, hand in hand with the decrease of the father's power, a decrease of the husband's authority over his wife. But the causes of the gradual emancipation of married women are manifold. Life has become more complicated; the occupations of women have become much more extensive; their influence has expanded correspondingly, from the home and household to public life. Their widened interests have interfered with that submissiveness which is an original characteristic of their sex. Their greater education has made them more respected, and has increased their independence. Finally, the decline of the influence exercised by antiquated religious ideas is removing what has probably been the most persistent cause of the wife's subjection to her husband's rule. CHAPTER XXVII SLAVERY SLAVERY is essentially an industrial institution, which implies compulsory labour beyond the limits of family relations. The master has a right to avail himself of the working power of his slave, without previous agreement on the part of the latter. This I take to be the essence of slavery; but connected with such a right there are others which hardly admit of a strict definition, or which belong to the master in some cases though not in all. He is entitled to claim obedience and to enforce this claim with more or less severity, but his authority is not necessarily absolute, and the restrictions imposed on it are not everywhere the same. According to a common definition of slavery, the slave is the property of his master,[1] but this definition is hardly accurate. It is true that even in the case of inanimate property the notion of ownership does not involve that the owner of a thing is always entitled to do with it whatever he likes; a person may own a thing and yet be prohibited by law from destroying it. But it seems that the owner's right over his property, even when not absolute, is at all events exclusive, that is, that nobody but the owner has a right to the disposal of it. Now the master's right of disposing of his slave is not necessarily {671} exclusive; custom or law may grant the latter a certain amount of liberty, and in such a case his condition differs essentially from that of a piece of property. The chief characteristic of slavery is the compulsory nature of the slave's relation to his master. Voluntary slavery, as when a person sells himself as a slave, is only an imitation of slavery true and proper; the person who gives up his liberty confers upon another, by contract, either for a limited period or for ever, the same rights over himself as a master possesses over his slave. If slavery proper could be based upon a contract between the parties concerned, I fail to see how to distinguish between a servant and a slave. [Footnote 1: Nieboer, _Slavery as an Industrial System_, p. 4 _sqq._ Dr. Nieboer himself defines slavery as "the fact, that one man is the property or possession of another beyond the limits of the family proper" (_ibid._ p. 29).] Dr. Nieboer has recently with much minuteness examined the distribution of slavery and its causes among savage races. It appears from his work that slavery is unknown in Australia, and in Oceania restricted to certain islands. In the Malay Archipelago, on the other hand, it prevails very extensively. Among the aboriginal tribes of India and the Indo-Chinese Peninsula it is fairly common, whereas no certain traces of it are found among the lower races of Central Asia and Siberia, with the exception of the Kamchadales. In North America it exists along the Pacific Coast from Behring Strait to the northern boundary of California, but beyond this district it seems to be unknown. In Central and South America there are at any rate several scattered cases of it, and if our knowledge of the South American Indians were less fragmentary, many other instances might perhaps be added. In savage Africa there are only one or two districts where no certain cases of slavery are encountered, whilst large agglomerations of slave-keeping tribes occur on the Coast of Guinea and in the district formed by Lower Guinea and the territories bordering the Congo.[2] [Footnote 2: Nieboer, _op. cit._ p. 47 _sqq._] Slaves are kept only where there is employment for them, and where the circumstances are otherwise favourable to the growth of slavery. Its existence or non-existence {672} in a tribe largely depends on the manner in which that tribe lives. Among hunters it hardly occurs at all. Mr. Spencer justly observes that, "in the absence of industrial activity, slaves are almost useless; and, indeed, where game is scarce, are not worth their food."[3] Moreover, they would have to be procured from foreign tribes, and to prevent such slaves from running away would be almost impossible for hunters who roam over vast tracts of land in pursuit of game, especially if the slaves also were engaged in hunting. For a small community of hunters--and their communities generally are small[4]--it might even be dangerous to keep foreign slaves in their midst.[5] Among fishing tribes, on the other hand, slavery is much more common, attaining a special importance among those who live on or near the Pacific Coast of North-Western America. These tribes have an abundance of food, they have fixed habitations, they live in comparatively large groups, and trade and industry, property and wealth, are well developed among them. In consequence, they find the services of slaves useful, and, at the same time, the slaves have little chance of making their escape.[6] [Footnote 3: Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, iii. 459.] [Footnote 4: Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 43 _sqq._ Hildebrand, _Recht und Sitte_, p. 1 _sqq._] [Footnote 5: Nieboer, _op. cit._, p. 191 _sqq._] [Footnote 6: _Ibid._ p. 199 _sqq._] Of the pastoral tribes referred to in Dr. Nieboer's list only one half keep slaves, and among some of these slave-keeping is said to be a mere luxury. To pastoral peoples, as such, slave labour is of little moment. Among them subsistence depends much more on capital than on labour, and for the small amount of work which is required free labourers are easily procured. As Dr. Nieboer observes, "among people who live upon the produce of their cattle, a man who owns no cattle, _i.e._ no capital, has no means of subsistence. Accordingly, among pastoral tribes we find rich and poor men; and the poor often offer themselves as labourers to the rich."[7] Pastoral peoples have thus no strong motives for making slaves, but at the same {673} time "there are no causes preventing them from keeping slaves. These tribes are, so to speak, in a state of equilibrium; a small additional cause on either side turns the balance. One such additional cause is the slave-trade; another is the neighbourhood of inferior races." All those pastoral peoples who keep slaves live in districts where an extensive slave-trade has for a long time been carried on. The slaves are often purchased from slave-traders, and in several cases they belong to an inferior race.[8] [Footnote 7: See also Hildebrand, _op. cit._ p. 38 _sq._] [Footnote 8: Nieboer, _op. cit._ p. 261 _sqq._] Among agricultural peoples slavery prevails more extensively; further, it is more common among such tribes as subsist chiefly by agriculture than among incipient agriculturists, who still depend on hunting or fishing for a large portion of their food. In primitive agricultural communities nobody voluntarily serves another, because subsistence is independent of capital and easy to procure. "All freemen in new countries," says Mr. Bagehot, "must be pretty equal; every one has labour, and every one has land; capital, at least in agricultural countries (for pastoral countries are very different), is of little use; it cannot hire labour; the labourers go and work for themselves."[9] Hence in such countries, if a man wants another to work for him, he must compel him to do it--that is, he must make him his slave. This holds true of most savage countries, namely, of all those in which there is much more fertile land than is required to be cultivated for the support of the actual population; but it does not hold true of all. Where every piece of land fit for cultivation has been appropriated, a man who owns no land cannot earn his subsistence independently of a landlord; hence free labourers are available, slaves are not wanted, and slavery is not likely to exist. And even where there are no poor persons, but everybody has a share in the resources of the country, the use of slaves cannot be great, since a man who owns a limited capital, or a limited quantity of land, can only employ a limited number of labourers. {674} For instance, the absence of slavery in many Oceanic islands may be accounted for by the fact that all land had been appropriated, which led to a state of things inconsistent with slavery as a social system.[10] [Footnote 9: Bagehot, _Physics and Politics_, p. 72.] [Footnote 10: Nieboer, _op. cit._ pp. 294-347, 420 _sq._] These are the main conclusions at which Dr. Nieboer has arrived by means of much admirable and painstaking research. Most of them, I think, are undoubtedly correct; yet it seems to me that the influence of economic conditions upon the institution of slavery has perhaps been emphasised too much at the cost of other factors. The prevalence of slavery in a savage tribe and the extent to which it is practised must also depend upon the ability of the tribe to procure slaves from foreign communities and upon its willingness to allow its own members to be kept as slaves within the tribe. It may be very useful for a group of savages to have a certain number of slaves, and yet they may not have them, for the reason that no slaves are to be had. It is only in extraordinary cases that a person is allowed to enslave a member of his own community. Intra-tribal slavery is a question not only of economic but of moral concern, whilst extra-tribal slavery originally depends upon success in war. We have reason to believe that the earliest source of slavery was war or conquest, and that slavery in many cases was a substitution for putting prisoners of war to death.[11] Savages, who have little mercy on their enemies, naturally make no scruple in reducing them to slavery whenever they find their advantage in doing so. Among existing savages, in fact, prisoners of war are very frequently enslaved.[12] They and their descendants, together {675} with persons kidnapped or purchased from foreign tribes, seem generally to form by far the majority of the slave population in uncivilised countries. [Footnote 11: _Cf._ Millar, _Origin of the Distinction of Ranks_, p. 245; Jacob, _Historical Inquiry into the Production and Consumption of the Precious Metals_, i. 136; Buckle, _Miscellaneous and Posthumous Works_, iii. 413; Comte, _Cours de philosophie positive_, v. 186 _sqq._; Cibrario, _Della schiavitù e del servaggio_, i. 16.] [Footnote 12: Rink, _Eskimo Tribes_, p. 28 (Western Eskimo). Petroff, 'Report on Alaska,' in _Tenth Census of the United States_, pp. 152 (Aleuts), 165 (Thlinkets). Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, i. 412 (Kutchin). Gibbs, 'Tribes of Western Washington and Northwestern Oregon,' in _Contributions to North American Ethnology_, i. 188. von Martius _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 232 (Guaycurus), 298 (Carajás). Azara, _Voyages dans l'Amérique métridionale_, ii. 109 _sq._ (Mbayas). Lewin, _Hill Tracts of Chittagong_, p. 35. _Idem_, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, p. 194 (Toungtha). Modigliani, _Viaggio a Nías_, p. 521. Kohler, 'Recht der Papuas auf Neu-Guinea,' in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ vii. 370. Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, p. 25. Polack, _Manners and Customs of the New Zealanders_, ii. 52; Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI.--Ethnography and Philology_, p. 33 (New Zealanders). Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 192. Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 231; Kohler, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xiv. 311 (Herero). Velten, _Sitten und Gebräuche der Suaheli_, p. 305. Baumann, _Usambara_, p. 141 (Wabondei). Felkin, 'Notes on the Waganda Tribe,' in _Proceed. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh_, xiii. 746. Mungo Park, _Travels in the Interior of Africa_, p. 19 (Mandingoes). Rowley, _Africa Unveiled_, p. 176. Tuckey, _Expedition to Explore the River Zaire_, p. 367 (Negroes of Congo). Sarbah, _Fanti Customary Laws_, p. 6. Burton, _Abeokuta_, i. 301. Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 289. Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 309 _sq._ (Beni Amer). Mademba, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse von eingeborenen Völkern in Afrika und Ozeanien_, p. 83 (natives of the Sansanding States). Nicole, _ibid._ p. 118 _sq._ (Diakité-Sarracolese). Tellier, _ibid._ pp. 168, 171 (Kreis Kita of the French Soudan). Beverley, _ibid._ p. 213 (Wagogo). Lang, _ibid._ p. 241 (Washambala). Desoignies, _ibid._ p. 278 (Msalala). Nieboer _op. cit._ pp. 49, 52, 73-76, 78, 100.] Whilst little regard is paid to the liberty of strangers, custom everywhere, as a rule, forbids the enslaving of tribesmen. Yet sometimes a father's power over his children,[13] as also a husband's power over his wife,[14] involves the right of selling them as slaves; and among various peoples a person may be reduced to slavery for committing a crime,[15] or for insolvency.[16] Among the tribes of Western {676} Washington and North-Western Oregon, if an Indian has wronged another and failed to make compensation, he may be taken as a slave.[17] The Papuans of Dorey had a law according to which an incendiary with his family became the slave of the late proprietor of the burned house.[18] Among the Line Islanders of Micronesia, if a man of low class stole some food from a person belonging to the "gentry," he became the slave of the latter and lost all his property.[19] Sometimes a man is induced by great poverty to sell himself as a slave.[20] But most intra-tribal slaves are born unfree, being the offspring of parents one or both of whom are slaves.[21] [Footnote 13: _Supra_, p. 599.] [Footnote 14: _Supra_, p. 629 _sq._] [Footnote 15: Butler, _Travels and Adventures in Assam_, p. 94 (Kukis). Mason, 'Dwellings, &c., of the Karens,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxxvii. pt. ii. p. 146 _sq._; Smeaton, _Loyal Karens of Burma_, p. 86. Wilken, 'Het strafrecht bij de volken van het maleische ras,' in _Bijdragen tot de taal- land- en volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië_, 1883, Land- en volkenkunde, p. 108 _sq._ Junghuhn, _Die Battalander auf Sumatra_, ii. 145 _sq._ (Bataks). Raffles, _History of Java_, ii. p. ccxxxv. (people of Bali). Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 320 (people of Timor-laut). von Rosenberg, _Der malayische Archipel_, p. 166 (Niase). Hickson, _A Naturalist in North Celebes_, p. 194 (Sangirese). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 87. Paulitschke, _Ethnographie Nordost-Afrikas_, p. 261. Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 244 _sq._ (Marca). Petherick, _Travels in Central Africa_, ii. 3 (Shilluk of the White Nile). Bowdich, _Mission to Ashantee_, p. 258 n. * (Fantis). Hübbe-Schleiden, _Ethiopien_, p. 152 (Mpongwe). Burton, _Abeokuta_, i. 301. Tuckey, _op. cit._ p. 367 (Negroes of Congo). Mungo Park, _op. cit._ p. 19 (Mandingoes). Tellier, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 171 (Kreis Kita of the French Soudan). Lang, _ibid._ p. 241 (Washambala). Dale, 'Customs of the Natives inhabiting the Bondei Country,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxv. 230, Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 193. Velten, _op. cit._ p. 305 _sq._ (Waswahili).] [Footnote 16: Gibbs, _loc. cit._ p. 188 (Indians of Western Washington and North-western Oregon), Lewin, _Hill Tracts of Chittagong_, p. 34. _Idem_, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, pp. 194 (Khyoungtha), 235 (Mrús). Mason, 'Religion, &c., of the Karens,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxxiv. pt. ii. 216. Blumentritt, 'Die Sitten und Bräuche der alten Tagalen,' in _Zeitschr. f. Ethnol._ xxv. 13 _sqq._ Lala, _Philippine Islands_, p. 111 (natives of Sulu). Low, _Sarawak_, p. 301. Bock, _Head-Hunters of Borneo_, p. 210 (Dyak tribes). Junghuhn, _op. cit._ ii. 151 _sq._ Raffles, _op. cit._ i. 353 n. (Javanese); ii. p. ccxxxv. (people of Bali). Nieboer, _op. cit._ pp. 110, 111, 114, 119 _sq._ (various peoples in the Malay Archipelago). Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, pp. 207 (Takue), 245 (Marea). Kingsley, _West African Studies_, p. 370, Hübbe-Schleiden, _op. cit._ p. 152 (Mpongwe). Burton, _Abeokuta_, i. 301. Mungo Park, _op. cit._ p. 19 (Mandingoes). Dale, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxv. 230 (Wabondei). Baskerville, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 193 _sq._ (Waganda), Lang, _ibid._ p. 240 (Washambala). Walter, _ibid._ p. 381 (Natives of Nossi-Bé and Mayotte, Madagascar). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 90 _sq._ _Idem_, _Grundriss der ethnologischen Jurisprudenz_, i. 363 _sqq._; ii. 564 _sqq._ Kohler, _Shakespeare vor dem Forum der Jurisprudenz_, p. 14 _sq._] [Footnote 17: Gibbs, _loc. cit._ p. 188.] [Footnote 18: Earl, _Papuans_, p. 83.] [Footnote 19: Tutuila, in _Jour. Polynesian Soc._ i. 268 _sq._] [Footnote 20: Azara, _op. cit._ ii. 109 (Mbayas). Hale, _op. cit._ p. 96 (Kingsmill Islanders). Burton, _Abeokuta_, i. 301. Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 231 (Herero). Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 192 _sq._] [Footnote 21: _Cf._ Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 89 _sq._; Mademba, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 83 (natives of the Sansanding States); Nicole, _ibid._ p. 119 (Diakité-Sarracolese); Baskerville, _ibid._ p. 194 (Waganda); Desoignies, _ibid._ p. 278 (Malala); Dale, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxv. 230 (Wabondei); Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 193.] In descriptions of slave-holding savages it is often said that a master has absolute power over his slave. But even in such instances, when details are scrutinised, it frequently appears that custom or public opinion does not allow a person to treat his slave just as he pleases. We have noticed above that in many cases the master is expressly denied the right of killing him at his own discretion.[22] More commonly than one would imagine the master has not {677} even an unlimited right to sell his slave. Among some peoples he may sell at will such slaves only as have been captured in war or purchased, not such as have been born in the house.[23] In several instances a slave, and especially a domestic slave, cannot be sold unless he has been guilty of some crime or misdemeanour.[24] Among the Banaka and Bapuku in the Cameroons the master may chastise or send away a slave who has behaved badly, but is not allowed to sell him.[25] There are, moreover, instances in which the master is entitled not to all the services of his slave, but only to a limited portion of them. In some parts of Africa the slave is obliged to work for his master on certain days of the week or a certain number of hours, but has the rest of his time free.[26] In the highlands of Palembang, Sumatra, a slave may carry on trade and hire himself out as a day labourer on his own behalf, and when he works in the field one-half of his harvesting belongs to him and the other half to his master.[27] Where the slave is allowed to possess property of his own he may in some cases,[28] though not in all,[29] buy his freedom; and debtor-slaves are as a rule entitled to regain their liberty by paying off the debt.[30] Many peoples even permit a dissatisfied slave to change his master. Among the Washambala, if a person does not fulfil his duties towards any of his slaves, the latter has a right to complain of him to the chief, and should the accusation prove true the chief buys the slave of his master for an ox and two cows, and keeps {678} him for himself.[31] Among other peoples a slave, in order to get a new master, has only to cause a slight damage to somebody's property, or to commit some other trifling offence, in which case he must be given up to the person he "injured."[32] It is astonishing to notice how readily, in many African countries, slaves are allowed by custom to rid themselves of tyrannical or neglectful masters.[33] The Barea and Bazes have a law according to which a slave becomes free by simply leaving his lord.[34] Among the Manipuris, in Further India, if a slave flies from one master and selects for himself another, it is presumed that he has been badly treated by the first one, and the fugitive can consequently not be reclaimed.[35] [Footnote 22: _Supra_, p. 422 _sq._] [Footnote 23: Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 95 _sqq._] [Footnote 24: _Ibid._ i. 96 _sq._ Tellier, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 169 (Kreis Kita). Lang, _ibid._ p. 241 (Washambala).] [Footnote 25: Steinmetz, _Rechtsvershältnisse_, p. 43.] [Footnote 26: Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 101. Mademba, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 83 (natives of the Sansanding States). Nicole, _ibid._ p. 118 (Diakité-Sarracolese). Tellier, _ibid._ p. 169 _sqq._ (Kreis Kita).] [Footnote 27: _Glimpses of the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 106.] [Footnote 28: Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 111 _sq._] [Footnote 29: _Ibid._ i. 111 _sq._ Tellier, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 170 (Kreis Kita), Senfft, _ibid._ p. 442 (Marshall Islanders).] [Footnote 30: Post, _Grundriss der ethnologischen Jurisprudenz_, i. 366. Nieboer, _op. cit._ pp. 38, 432. Nicole, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 118 (Diakité-Sarracolese). Baskervilie, _ibid._ p. 194 (Waganda). Lang, _ibid._ p. 240 _sqq._ (Washambala).] [Footnote 31: Lang, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 242.] [Footnote 32: Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 102 _sqq._ _Idem_, _Grundriss der ethnologischen Jurisprudenz_, i. 377. Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 168. Pechuel-Loesche, 'Aus dem Leben der Loango-Neger,' in _Globus_, xxxii. 238.] [Footnote 33: See also Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 102 _sqq._; Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 309 (Beni Amer); _Idem_, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 43.] [Footnote 34: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 484.] [Footnote 35: Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 51.] A slave among the lower races can thus by no means be described as a being destitute of all rights. As a rule, it seems, he is treated kindly, very commonly as an inferior member of the family.[36] Among the Aleuts a slave suffering want would bring dishonour upon his master.[37] The South American Mbayás, says Azara, {679} "aiment extraordinairement tous leurs esclaves; jamais ils ne leur commandent d'un ton imperieux; jamais ils ne les reprimandent, ni ne les châtient, ni ne les vendent, quand même ce seraient des prisonniers de guerre. . . . Quel contraste avec le traitement que les européens font éprouver aux africains!"[38] In West Africa "the condition of slavery is not regarded as degrading, and a slave is not considered an inferior being."[39] On the Gold Coast, with the exception of the unpleasant liability of being sent at any moment to serve his master in the other world, the lot of a slave is not generally one of hardship, but is on the whole far better than that of the agricultural labourer in England. The slave is generally considered a member of the family, and if native-born succeeds in some cases in default of an heir to the property of his master.[40] In the Yoruba country it was quite common for a slave to be named by his master in his last will to be the factor or general manager of the estate, and to be left to take care of the entire establishment.[41] Among the Kreis Kita, of the French Soudan, the master calls his domestic slaves his sons, and they call him their father; nay, the natural guardian of an heir who is not yet of age is not his mother, but the eldest domestic slave of the household.[42] Speaking of the natives in the region of Lake Nyassa, Mr. Macdonald remarks that most Africans like to see their slaves become rich; "Are they not," they say, "our own children?"[43] Among the Wabondei, "if a man buys a slave, he calls his own children and says, 'Behold your brother.' The slave is treated as a son, and is neither beaten nor tied."[44] In Madagascar the slaves "are kindly treated by their masters, they are considered as a kind of inferior members of the family to whom they belong, and many of the slaves have a {680} practical freedom of action to which the free population are quite strangers."[45] The slavery prevalent among the native races of the Malay Archipelago is generally mild. In Borneo, says Mr. Boyle, "we always found a difficulty in distinguishing the servile portion of a household from the freeborn population, and the honours and distinctions open to the latter class are likewise accessible to the former."[46] The slave-debtors of the Dyaks are "just as happy in this state--living in their creditors' houses and working on their farms--as if perfectly free, enjoying all the liberty of their masters."[47] Among the Chittagong Hill tribes the debtor-slaves were treated as members of the creditor's family, and were never exposed to harsh usage.[48] Among the Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush slaves are sometimes chosen among the annually elected magistracy, and Sir Scott Robertson knew of a case in which a master and his slave went through the ceremony of brotherhood together.[49] [Footnote 36: _Ibid._ pp. 51 (Manipuris), 58 (Garos). Lewin, _Hill Tracts of Chittagong_, p. 34 _sq._ _Idem_, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, p. 90 (Chittagong Hill tribes). Colquhoun, _Amongst the Shans_, p. 267. Mouhot, _Travels in the Central Parts of Indo-China_, i. 250 (Stiêns). Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua_, pp. 194 (Watubela Islanders), 293 (people of Tenimber and Timor-laut), 434 (people of Wetter). Earl, _op. cit._ p. 81 (Papuans of Dorey). New, _Life, Wanderings, and Labours in Eastern Africa_, p. 128 (Wanika). Chanler, _Through Jungle and Desert_, p. 404 (Eastern Africans). Baumann, _Usambara_, p. 141 (Wabondei). Felkin, in _Proceed. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh_, xiii. 746; Baskerville, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 194 (Waganda). _Ibid._ p. 43 (Banaka and Bapuku). Mademba, _ibid._ p. 84 (natives of the Sansanding States). Nicole, _ibid._ p. 118 (Diakité-Sarracolese). Lang, _ibid._ p. 242 (Washambala). Desoignies, _ibid._ p. 278 (Msalala). Kraft, _ibid._ p. 291 (Wapokomo). Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 582. Rowley, _Africa Unveiled_, pp. 174, 176. Steinmetz, _Ethnologische Studien zur ersten Entwicklung der Strafe_, i. 313. Nieboer, _op. cit._ pp. 52, 78, 79, 81, 141-143, 305, 439, _sq._] [Footnote 37: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _loc. cit._ p. 152.] [Footnote 38: Azara, _op. cit._ ii. 110.] [Footnote 39: Ellis, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 219. See also Wilson, _Western Africa_, pp. 179, 180, 271 _sq._] [Footnote 40: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 290.] [Footnote 41: MacGregor, 'Lagos, Abeokuta, and the Alake,' in _Jour. African Soc._ 1904, p. 473.] [Footnote 42: Tellier, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 169.] [Footnote 43: Macdonald, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxii. 102.] [Footnote 44: Dale, _ibid._ xxv. 230.] [Footnote 45: Sibree, _The Great African Island_, p. 181. See also Little, _Madagascar_, p. 77; Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 196.] [Footnote 46: Boyle, _Adventures among the Dyaks of Borneo_, p. 284.] [Footnote 47: Low, _Sarawak_, p. 302. See also St. John, _Life in the Forests of the Far East_, i. 83; Bock, _Head-Hunters of Borneo_, p. 210; Kükenthal, _Ergebnisse einer zoologischen Forschungsreise in den Molukken und Borneo_, i. 276 (Kyans); Crawford, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, i. 52; Raffles, _op. cit._ i. 352; Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 253; Junghuhn, _op. cit._ ii. 150 (Bataks).] [Footnote 48: Lewin, _Hill Tracts of Chittagong_, p. 34.] [Footnote 49: Scott Robertson, _Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 100 _sq._] It appears that intra-tribal slaves, especially such as are born in the house, are generally treated better than extra-tribal or purchased slaves,[50] and that slaves are most oppressed by their masters when they belong to a different race.[51] We are told that among the South American Guaycurus the two causes of slavery, captivity and birth, imply a certain difference of caste, which is maintained {681} with great rigour.[52] Mungo Park observes that in Africa the domestic slaves or such as are born in their master's house are treated more leniently than those who are purchased.[53] "I was told," he says, "that the Mandingo master can neither deprive his slave of life, nor sell him to a stranger, without first calling a palaver on his conduct, or, in other words, bringing him to a public trial; but this degree of protection is extended only to the native or domestic slave."[54] Tuckey makes exactly the same observation as regards the natives of Congo.[55] On the Gold Coast slaves are of three kinds--native-born, imported, and prisoners of war; and "a distinction is always made between the first and the two latter, who are treated with far less consideration."[56] Speaking of the Central African tribes generally, Mr. Rowley states that slavery assumes a much severer character among the pastoral than among the agricultural tribes, because the slaves of the former are for the most part captives of war, whereas those of the latter have rarely been acquired by conquest but mostly by inheritance. Among the agricultural tribes, he adds, persons who are in bondage are not called slaves but children, and those to whom they are in bondage are not called masters but fathers.[57] Among the Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush all slaves "are not of the same social position, for the house slave is said to be much higher in grade than the artisan slave. . . . The domestic slaves live with their masters."[58] [Footnote 50: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 484 _sq._ (Barea and Kunáma). New, _op. cit._ p. 56 (Waswahili). Baumann, _Usambara_, p. 61 (natives of the Tanga Coast). Sarbah, _op. cit._ p. 6 _sq._ (Fantis). Nicole, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_ p. 118 _sq._ (Diakité-Sarracolese). Tellier, _ibid._ p. 169 (Kreis Kita). Beverley, _ibid._ p. 213 (Wagogo). Sibree, _op. cit._ p. 256 _sq._ (natives of Madagascar). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, i. 88 _sq._] [Footnote 51: Mademba, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 84 (natives of the Sansanding States). Sibree, _op. cit._ p. 181 (natives of Madagascar).] [Footnote 52: von Spix and von Martius, _Travels in Brazil_, ii. 74.] [Footnote 53: Mungo Park, _op. cit._ p. 262.] [Footnote 54: _Ibid._ p. 19.] [Footnote 55: Tuckey, _op. cit._ p. 367.] [Footnote 56: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples_, p. 289.] [Footnote 57: Rowley, _Africa Unveiled_, p. 174 _sqq._] [Footnote 58: Scott Robertson, _op. cit._ p. 99 _sq._] Among the nations of archaic civilisation slavery presents essentially the same characteristics as among the lower races. In ancient Mexico there were various classes of slaves--prisoners of war, criminals condemned to lose their freedom, children sold by their parents, and persons who had sold themselves. The relations between master and slave are represented as friendly.[59] "Slavery {682} in Mexico." says Mr. Bancroft, "was, according to all accounts, a moderate subjection, consisting merely of an obligation to render personal service, nor could that be exacted without allowing the slave a certain amount of time to labour for his own advantage."[60] Masters could not sell their slaves without their consent, unless they were slaves with a collar, that is, runaway, rebellious, or vicious slaves, who in spite of two or three warnings did not mend their behaviour.[61] Their children were invariably born free;[62] and when their masters died they generally became free themselves.[63] [Footnote 59: Bancroft, _Native Races of the Pacific States_, ii. 217, 221.] [Footnote 60: Bancroft, _Native Races of the Pacific States_, ii. 220 _sq._] [Footnote 61: Clavigero, _History of Mexico_, i. 360.] [Footnote 62: Bancroft, _op. cit._ ii. 221.] [Footnote 63: Clavigero, _op. cit._ i. 360.] In China the slave class is composed of prisoners of war, of persons who sell themselves or are sold by others, and of the children of slaves;[64] and in former days public slavery was a punishment for crime.[65] It is true that the penal code forbids the sale of free persons; according to the letter of the text even the father of a family must not sell his children,[66] and persons who voluntarily submit themselves to be sold are punished by law.[67] But these regulations are frequently transgressed; in times of distress children are often sold by their parents, and the kidnapping of children is an even more common source from which the supply of slaves is kept up.[68] The master's power over his slave is not quite absolute,[69] but it seems to be fully as great as the father's power over his child.[70] A master who falsely accuses his slave suffers no punishment for it; on the other hand, a slave cannot complain in a court of justice of ill-treatment from his master.[71] Yet the condition of slaves in China is generally easy enough.[72] "In all Chinese families of 'the upper ten {683} thousand,' an intimacy exists between masters and men-servants on the one hand, and mistresses and female servants on the other. Servants not unfrequently make suggestions in reference to the well-being of the family, and in many instances, domestic matters of a grave nature are discussed before them."[73] In Chinese novels the servant is the confidant of his master, and harsh behaviour towards slaves is only attributed to vicious persons;[74] according to the Divine Panorama, he who beats or injures his slave without estimating the punishment by the fault is tormented in hell.[75] Many travellers have pointed out the difference between the comparatively happy condition of slaves in China and the degraded position of the former negro slaves in European colonies and the United States of America.[76] "In China," it is observed, "the identity of blood, colour, race, and habit between master and servant, operates as a restraint on the avarice, vices, and cruelty of the former, which would not be the case if they were of different races as in America."[77] [Footnote 64: Biot, 'Mémoire sur la condition des esclaves et des serviteurs gagés en Chine,' in _Journal Asiatique_, ser. iii. vol. iii. 257 _sqq._] [Footnote 65: _Ibid._ p. 249 _sqq._] [Footnote 66: _Supra_, p. 607.] [Footnote 67: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cclxxv. p. 201.] [Footnote 68: Biot, _loc. cit._ p. 260. Giles, _Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio_, p. 211, n. 8. Gray, _China_, i. 241, 242, 246.] [Footnote 69: _Supra_, p. 424.] [Footnote 70: Gray, _op. cit._ i. 243 _sqq._] [Footnote 71: Biot, _op. cit._ p. 292. _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cccxxxvii. p. 373.] [Footnote 72: Biot, _loc. cit._ p. 296 _sq._ Giles, _op. cit._ i. 211 _sq._ n. 8. Gray, _op. cit._ i. 245. Wells Williams, _The Middle Kingdom_, i. 413. Douglas, _Society in China_, p. 349.] [Footnote 73: Gray, _op. cit._ i. 247.] [Footnote 74: Biot, _loc. cit._ p. 296.] [Footnote 75: Giles, _op. cit._ ii. 377.] [Footnote 76: Biot, _loc. cit._ p. 297 _sq._] [Footnote 77: _Chinese Repository_, xviii. 362.] It has been suggested that in ancient Egypt the aboriginal inhabitants of the country were made slaves by the conquering race. "Si nous consultons les monuments," says M. Amélineau, "nous remarquons dans les peintures qui ornent les parois des tombeaux de Saqqarah une certaine race d'hommes sur laquelle Mariette avait déjà appelé l'attention. . . . Je crois que ce sont là des esclaves, vieux restes des populations primitives soumises par les conquérants nouvellement arrivés dans la vallée du Nil, descendants des premières tribus humaines qui s'étaient installées en Égypt."[78] During the eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties, which form the chief period of Egypt's foreign conquests, mention is frequently made of the employment of prisoners of war as slaves. Every Pharao of these dynasties recounts how he filled the god Amon's storehouses with male and female slaves from his {684} spoil. These slaves are occasionally represented in tombs; thus in the tomb of Rekhmere some slaves who are making bricks and building a wall are designated as "the spoil which his Majesty brought for the construction of the temple of Amon."[79] M. Amélineau believes that slavery was in Egypt milder than in Greece and Rome.[80] According to the Book of the Dead, the pity of the god extends to slaves; not only does he command that no one should ill-treat them himself, but he forbids that their masters should be led to ill-treat them.[81] [Footnote 78: Amélineau, _Essai sur l'évolution des idées morales dans l'Égypt Ancienne_, p. 78.] [Footnote 79: For these statements I am indebted to my friend Dr. Alan Gardiner.] [Footnote 80: Amélineau, _op. cit._ p. 349.] [Footnote 81: _Book of the Dead_, ch. 125. _Cf._ Maspero, _Dawn of Civilization_, p. 191.] In ancient Chaldæa, beneath the free Semite and Sumerian population, there was a class of slaves largely consisting of captives from foreign races and their descendants, but continually reinforced by individuals of the native race such as foundlings, women sold by their husbands, children sold by their fathers, and probably debtors whom their creditors had deprived of their liberty.[82] Their position was evidently not one of excessive hardship.[83] As a rule, they were permitted to marry and bring up a family; and it seems that masters, when selling their slaves, as much as possible avoided separating parents and children.[84] The master often apprenticed the children of his slaves, and as soon as they knew a trade he set them up in business in his own name, allowing them a share in the profits.[85] A slave could hire himself out for wages, and could himself acquire slaves to work for him.[86] He was even entitled to purchase his freedom.[87] "La loi babylonienne," says M. Oppert, "lassait aux esclaves sur quelques points {685} plus de prérogatives que le Code français n'en accorde à nos épouses."[88] [Footnote 82: Meissner, _Beiträge zur altbabylonischen Privatrecht_, p. 6. Oppert, 'La condition des esclaves à Babylone,' in _Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres--Comptes rendus des séances de l'année_ 1888, ser. iv. vol. xvi. 122. Maspero, _op. cit._ p. 743.] [Footnote 83: Meissner, _op. cit._ p. 7. Oppert, _loc. cit._ p. 121 _sqq._] [Footnote 84: Oppert, _loc. cit._ p. 125 _sqq._] [Footnote 85: Kohler and Peiser, _Aus dem babylonischen Rechtsleben_, ii, 52 _sqq._] [Footnote 86: Oppert, _loc. cit._ pp. 122, 128.] [Footnote 87: Meissner, _op. cit._ p. 7. Oppert, _loc. cit._ p. 122. Oppert and Ménant, _Documents juridiques de l'Assyrie et de la Chaldée_, p. 14.] [Footnote 88: Oppert, _loc. cit._ p. 121.] Among the Hebrews the slave class consisted of captives taken in war;[89] of persons bought with money from neighbouring nations or from foreign residents in the land;[90] of children of slaves born in the house;[91] of native Hebrews who had been sold by their fathers,[92] or who either alone or with their wives and children had fallen into slavery in consequence of poverty,[93] or who had been sold by the authorities as slaves on account of theft when unable to pay compensation for the stolen property.[94] To deprive an Israelite of his freedom for any other reason, to steal him, use him as a slave, or sell him, was a crime punishable with death.[95] And even the Israelite who lost his liberty because he had become poor on account of poverty was not to be treated in the same way as the slave of foreign origin. He could not be compelled to serve as a bondservant, only as a hired servant.[96] He should not be ruled over with rigour.[97] He might not only be redeemed at any time by his relatives, but if not redeemed he was bound to receive his freedom without payment in the seventh year, and then the master should not let him go away empty, but furnish him liberally out of his flock, his floor, and his wine-press.[98] Slaves of foreign extraction, on the other hand, were not to be emancipated, but should remain slaves for ever, descending to children and children's children.[99] But in no case had the master absolute power over his slave. Whether the latter was an Israelite or a foreigner, his life, and to some extent his body, were protected by law;[100] and if a slave escaped from a hard master, he {686} should not be given up, but be allowed to live unmolested in the place which he should choose in one of the cities of Israel.[101] From everything that we read about slaves among the Hebrews it appears that they were regarded as inferior members of the family, and that the house-father cared for their well-being hardly less than for that of his own children.[102] In the Talmud masters are repeatedly admonished to treat their slaves with kindness;[103] traffic in human beings is regarded as an occupation which incapacitates the dealer to sit as judge;[104] and emancipation of slaves is practically encouraged in various ways,[105] in spite of the dictum of certain rabbis that he who emancipates his slave transgresses the positive precept of Leviticus xxv. 46, "They shall be your bondmen for ever."[106] [Footnote 89: _Deuteronomy_, xx. 14.] [Footnote 90: _Leviticus_, xxv. 44 _sqq._] [Footnote 91: _Genesis_, xiv. 14.] [Footnote 92: _Exodus_, xxi. 7.] [Footnote 93: _Ibid._ xxi. 2 _sq._ _Leviticus_, xxv. 39, 47.] [Footnote 94: _Exodus_, xxii. 3.] [Footnote 95: _Ibid._ xxi. 16. _Deuteronomy_, xxiv. 7.] [Footnote 96: _Leviticus_, xxv. 39, 40, 53.] [Footnote 97: _Ibid._ xxv. 43, 46, 53.] [Footnote 98: _Exodus_, xxi. 2. _Leviticus_, xxv. 40, 41, 48 _sqq._ _Deuteronomy_, xv. 12 _sqq._] [Footnote 99: _Leviticus_, xxv. 44 _sqq._] [Footnote 100: _Supra_, pp. 424, 516.] [Footnote 101: _Deuteronomy_, xxiii. 15 _sq._] [Footnote 102: See Mielziner, _Die Verhältnisse der Sklaven bei den alten Hebräern_, p. 61 _sqq._; André, _L'esclavage chez les anciens Hébreux_, p. 149 _sqq._; Benzinger, 'Slavery,' in Cheyne and Black, _Encyclopædia Biblica_, iv. 4657 _sq._] [Footnote 103: Katz, _Der wahre Talmudjude_, p. 59 _sqq._ See also _Ecclesiasticus_, xxxiii. 31:--"If thou have a servant, entreat him as a brother: for thou hast need of him as of thine own soul."] [Footnote 104: Benny, _Criminal Code of the Jews according to the Talmud Massecheth Synhedrin_, p. 36.] [Footnote 105: Winter, _Die Stellung der Sklaven bei den Juden_, p. 41.] [Footnote 106: _Berakhoth_, fol. 47 B, quoted by Hershon, _Treasures of the Talmud_, p. 81. _R. Samuel_, quoted by André, _op. cit._ p. 180 _sq._] According to Islam, a Muhammedan who is born free can never become a slave. "The slave," says Mr. Lane, "is either a person taken captive in war or carried off by force from a foreign country, and being at the time of capture an infidel; or the offspring of a female slave by another slave, or by any man who is not her owner, or by her owner if he do not acknowledge himself to be the father."[107] The slave should be treated with kindness; the Prophet said, "A man who behaves ill to his slave will not enter into Paradise."[108] The master should give to his slaves of the food which he eats himself, and of the clothes with which he clothes himself.[109] He should not {687} order them to do anything beyond their power, and in the hot season, during the hottest hours of the day, he should let them rest.[110] He may marry them to whom he will, but he may not separate them when married.[111] He may, generally, give them away or sell them as he pleases, but he must not separate a mother from her child. The Prophet said, "Whoever is the cause of separation between mother and child, by selling or giving, God will separate him from his friends on the day of resurrection."[112] Nor is a master allowed to alienate a female slave who has borne to him a child which he recognises as his own; and at his death the mother is entitled to emancipation.[113] To liberate a slave is regarded as an act highly acceptable to God, and as an expiation for certain sins.[114] These rules, it should be added, are not only recognised in theory, but derive additional support from general usage. In the Muhammedan world the slave generally lives on easy terms with his master. He is often treated as a member of the family, and occasionally exercises much influence upon its affairs.[115] In certain countries at least, it is held disreputable or disgraceful for a person to sell his slave, except perhaps in case of absolute necessity or in consequence of intolerable behaviour on the part of the slave.[116] In Persia custom demands that on certain festive occasions, such as the birth of a child or a wedding, one {688} or several of the slaves of the family should be set free;[117] and both there and in other Muhammedan countries testamentary manumissions are of frequent occurrence.[118] In Morocco a slave is sometimes allowed a certain amount of liberty that he may earn enough to buy his freedom;[119] whilst among the Bedouins of the Arabian Desert described by Burckhardt, slaves are always emancipated after a certain lapse of time.[120] No stigma attaches to the emancipated slave. It has been truly said that in Islam slavery is regarded as an accident, not as a "constitution of nature,"[121] hence the freedman is socially on an equal footing with a free-born citizen. He may without discredit marry his former master's daughter, and become the head of the family. Emancipated slaves have repeatedly risen to the highest offices, they have ruled kingdoms and founded dynasties.[122] [Footnote 107: Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 116. _Cf._ Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 245 _sq._; Ameer Ali, _Life and Teachings of Mohammed_, p. 376 _sq._] [Footnote 108: Lane, _Arabian Society in the Middle Ages_, p. 255. Lane-Poole, _Speeches and Table-Talk of the Prophet Mohammad_, p. 163.] [Footnote 109: Lane, _Arabian Society_, p. 254. Lane-Poole, _Speeches_, p. 163.] [Footnote 110: Lane, _Arabian Society_, p. 254. Lane-Poole, _Speeches_, p. 163. Sachau, _Muhammedanisches Recht_, pp. 18, 102.] [Footnote 111: Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, p. 115.] [Footnote 112: _Ibid._ p. 115. Lane, _Arabian Society_, p. 255. Ameer All, _Life of Mohammed_, p. 374 _sq._] [Footnote 113: Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, p. 116.] [Footnote 114: _Koran_, xxiv. 33. Ameer Ali, _Life of Mohammed_, pp. 373, 377. Beltrame, _Il Sènnaar e lo Sciangàllah_, i. 46. Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, p. 119.] [Footnote 115: Lane, _Arabian Society_, p. 253 _sqq._ Polak, _Persien_, i. 251, 255. Urquhart, _Spirit of the East_, ii. 403. Burton, _Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah & Mecca_, i. 61. Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 155. Beltrame, _Il Sènnaar_, i. 46 _sqq._ Loir, 'L'esclavage en Tunisie,' in _Revue scientifique_, ser. iv. vol. xii. 592 _sq._ Villot, _M[oe]urs, coutumes et institutions des indigènes de l'Algérie_, p. 250. Meakin, _Moors_, p. 133. Chavanne, _Die Sahara_, p. 389 (Arabs of the Sahara). Pommerol, _Among the Women of the Sahara_, p. 161 _sqq._ Dyveyrier, _Exploration du Sahara_, p. 339. Hourst, _Sur le Niger et au pays des Touaregs_, p. 206 (Touareg). Hanoteau and Letourneux, _La Kabylie_, ii. 143. Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 582.] [Footnote 116: Polak, _Persien_, i. 250. Beltrame, _Il Sènnaar_, i. 47, 248. Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 155.] [Footnote 117: Polak, _op. cit._ i. 250.] [Footnote 118: _Ibid._ i. 250. Meakin, _op. cit._ p. 139.] [Footnote 119: Meakin, _op. cit._ p. 139.] [Footnote 120: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 202.] [Footnote 121: Ameer Ali, _Life of Mohammed_, p. 375.] [Footnote 122: _Ibid._ p. 375 _sq._ Bosworth Smith, _Mohammed and Mohammedanism_, pp. 206, 211 _sq._] According to the Laws of Manu, the mythical legislator of ancient India, there are slaves of seven kinds, namely, "he who is made a captive under a standard, he who serves for his daily food, he who is born in the house, he who is bought and he who is given, he who is inherited from ancestors, and he who is enslaved by way of punishment."[123] The last mentioned class consists of persons who have lost their freedom because they have been unable to pay a debt or a fine, or because they have left a religious order.[124] The slave is not necessarily a Sûdra, or member of the lowest of the four Indian castes, but Kshatriyas may become the slaves of Brâhmanas and Vaisyas of Brâhmanas and Kshatriyas.[125] On the other hand, the Sûdras as such were not slaves, though it was their duty to serve the other castes; they chose the persons to whom they would offer service, and claimed adequate compensation.[126] {689} The power which a house-holder in India possessed over his slaves is not exactly defined; but he is admonished not to have quarrels with them, and if offended by any of them, to bear it without resentment.[127] In Âpastamba's Aphorisms it is said that a person may at his pleasure stint himself, his wife, or his children, "but by no means a slave who does his work."[128] Elphinstone wrote in 1839 in his 'History of India':--"Domestic slaves are treated exactly like servants, except that they are more regarded as belonging to the family. I doubt if they are ever sold; and they attract little observation, as there is nothing apparent to distinguish them from freemen."[129] The priesthood of modern Buddhism teach that there are five ways in which a master ought to assist his slave:--"He must not appoint the work of children to men, or of men to children, but to each according to his strength; he must give each one his food and wages, according as they are required; when sick, he must free him from work, and provide him with proper medicine; when the master has any agreeable and savoury food, he must not consume the whole himself, but must impart a portion to others, even to his slaves; and if they work properly for a long period, or for a given period, they must be set free."[130] [Footnote 123: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 415.] [Footnote 124: Bühler, in his translation of the Laws of Manu, in _Sacred Books of the East_, xxv. 326, n. 415.] [Footnote 125: _Ibid._ p. 326, n. 415.] [Footnote 126: Ingram, _History of Slavery and Serfdom_, p. 272.] [Footnote 127: _Laws of Manu_, iv. 180, 185.] [Footnote 128: _Âpastamba_, ii. 4. 9. 11.] [Footnote 129: Elphinstone, _History of India_, p. 203.] [Footnote 130: Hardy, _Manual of Budhism_, p. 500.] In Greece, especially in earlier times, capture in war, piracy, and kidnapping were common causes of slavery,[131] and the condition was hereditary. Other legitimate sources were exposure of infants, except at Thebes,[132] and sale of children by their parents.[133] At Athens insolvent debtors became the slaves of their creditors up to the time of Solon;[134] and metics--that is, resident aliens--who did not discharge the obligations imposed on them by the State, {690} were sold as slaves, as were also foreigners who had fraudulently possessed themselves of the rights of citizens.[135] At least in a later age the majority of slaves seem to have been of barbarian origin;[136] indeed, after the Peloponnesian war the principle that captives taken in wars between Greek states should be ransomed and not enslaved was commonly recognised, though not always followed in practice.[137] As we have seen, the master had not the power of life and death over his slave.[138] At sanctuaries the latter found a refuge from cruel oppression.[139] If maltreated he could demand to be sold; and he could purchase his liberty with his _peculium_ by agreement with his master.[140] But by manumission he only entered into an intermediate condition between slavery and complete freedom; thus, at Athens the freedman was in relation to the State a metic and in relation to his master a client.[141] Domestic slaves often lived on terms of intimacy with their masters,[142] but as a class slaves were regarded with contempt even by men like Plato and Aristotle. The former, whilst warning his hearers against insolent and unjust behaviour towards slaves, observes that they should be treated with severity, not admonished as if they were freemen, but punished, and only addressed in words of command.[143] Aristotle compares the relation of the master to his slave with that of the soul to the body and of the craftsman to his tool, and adds that there can be friendship between them only in so far as the slave is regarded not as a slave but as a fellow human being.[144] But whilst the state of slavery always entailed disgrace, the question was raised whether the master's power over his slave was based on justice or {691} on force, and in Greece, for the first time, we meet with the opinion that the institution of slavery is contrary to Nature, and that it is the law which, unjustly, makes one man a slave and another free.[145] However, Aristotle was no doubt in general agreement with his age when he declared that the barbarians, on account of their inferiority, are intended by Nature to be the slaves of the Greeks.[146] [Footnote 131: Wallon, _Histoire de l'esclavage dans l'antiquité_, i. 161 _sqq._ Richter, _Die Sklaverei im griechischen Altertume_, p. 39 _sqq._] [Footnote 132: Aelian, _Historia varia_, ii. 7.] [Footnote 133: Wallon. _op. cit._ i. 159 _sq._] [Footnote 134: Plutarch, _Vita Solonis_, xiii. 4.] [Footnote 135: Wallon, _op. cit._ i. 160 _sq._ Richter, _op. cit._ p. 46.] [Footnote 136: Hermann-Blümner, _Lehrbuch der griechischen Privatalterthümer_, p. 86. Richter, _op. cit._ p. 48.] [Footnote 137: Schmidt, _Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 204, 205, 283. Hermann-Blümner, _op. cit._ p. 86 _sq._] [Footnote 138: _Supra_, p. 425.] [Footnote 139: Wallon, _op. cit._ i. 310 _sq._ Schmidt, _op. cit._ ii. 218 _sq._ Richter, _op. cit._ p. 140 _sq._] [Footnote 140: Ingram, _op. cit._ p. 27 _sq._ Wallon, _op. cit._ i. 335 _sq._ Richter, _op. cit._ p. 151.] [Footnote 141: Richter, _op. cit._ p. 157. Wallon, _op. cit._ i. 346 _sqq._] [Footnote 142: Schmidt, _op. cit._ ii. 212. Richter, _op. cit._ p. 151.] [Footnote 143: Plato, _Leges_, vi. 777 _sq._] [Footnote 144: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, viii. 11. 6 _sq._ _Idem_, _Politica_, i. 5, p. 1254.] [Footnote 145: _Idem_, _Politica_, i. 3, p. 1253 b.] [Footnote 146: _Ibid._ i. 2, 6, pp. 1252 b, 1255 a. See Euripides, _Iphigenia in Aulide_, 1400 _sq._] The Roman jurists held up slavery as a mitigation of the horrors of war: the capture and preservation of enemies, they said, was its sole and exclusive origin in the past.[147] But in Rome as elsewhere, when once established, it contained in itself the germ of extension; all the children of a female slave followed the condition of the mother, according to the principle applicable to the offspring of the lower animals--"Partus sequitur ventrem." And sooner or later, when these sources proved insufficient to maintain the supply, a regular commerce in slaves was established, which was based on the systematically prosecuted hunting of men in foreign lands.[148] To a much smaller extent the slave class was recruited by Roman citizens--by children sold by their fathers, by insolvent debtors, or by criminals condemned to servitude as a punishment for some heinous offence.[149] The idea of a Roman becoming the slave of a fellow-citizen was never quite agreeable to the Roman mind. According to an ancient law the debtor, after being made over to the creditor, should be sold abroad or _trans Tiberim_.[150] Subsequently, in 326 B.C., the creditor's lien was restricted to the goods of his debtor, if the latter was a Roman citizen;[151] and during the Pagan Empire the sale of freeborn {692} children by their fathers was prohibited.[152] The power, originally unlimited, which the master had over his slave was also, in the course of time, subjected to limitations. We have seen that since the days of Claudius and Antoninus Pius legal check was put on the master's right of killing his slave.[153] The Lex Petronia, A.D. 61, forbade masters to compel their slaves to fight with wild beasts.[154] In the time of Nero an official was appointed to hear complaints of the wrongs done by masters to their slaves.[155] Antoninus Pius directed that slaves treated with excessive cruelty, who had taken refuge at an altar or imperial image, should be sold; and this provision was extended to cases in which the master had employed a slave in a way degrading to him or beneath his character.[156] In public auctions of slaves regard was paid to the claims of relationship,[157] and in the interpretation of testaments it was assumed that members of the same family were not to be separated by the division of the succession.[158] In those days when Roman slavery had lost its original patriarchal and, to speak with Mommsen,[159] "in some measure innocent" character, when the victories of Rome and the increasing slave trade had introduced into the city innumerable slaves, when those simpler habits of life which in early times somewhat mitigated the rigour of the law had changed--the lot of the Roman slave was often extremely hard, and numerous acts of shocking cruelty were committed.[160] But we also hear, from the early days of the Empire, that masters who had been cruel to their slaves were pointed at with disgust in all parts of the city, and were hated and loathed.[161] And with a fervour which can hardly be surpassed Seneca and other Stoics argued that the slave is a being with human dignity and human rights, born of the same race as ourselves, living the same life, {693} and dying the same death--in short, that our slaves "are also men, and friends, and our fellow-servants."[162] Epictetus even went so far as to condemn altogether the keeping of slaves, a radicalism explicable from the history of his own life. "What you avoid suffering yourself," he says, "seek not to impose on others. You avoid slavery, for instance; take care not to enslave. For if you can bear to exact slavery from others, you appear to have been yourself a slave."[163] These teachings could not fail to influence both legislation and public sentiment. Imbued with the Stoic philosophy, the jurists of the classical period declared that all men are originally free by the law of Nature, and that slavery is only "an institution of the Law of Nations, by which one man is made the property of another, in opposition to natural right."[164] [Footnote 147: Hunter, _Exposition of Roman Law_, p. 160 _sq._ _Institutiones_, i. 3. 3:--"Slaves are called _servi_, because generals are wont to sell their captives, and so to preserve (_servare_), and not to destroy them. They are also called _mancipia_, because they are taken from the enemy with the strong hand (_manu capiuntur_)."] [Footnote 148: Mommsen, _History of Rome_, iii. 305 _sq._ Wallon, _op. cit._ ii. 46 _sqq._ Ingram, _op. cit._ p. 38.] [Footnote 149: Wallon, _op. cit._ ii. 18 _sqq._ Ingram, _op. cit._ p. 39. _Institutiones_, i. 12. 3.] [Footnote 150: Mackenzie, _Studies in Roman Law_, p. 94.] [Footnote 151: Livy, _Historiæ Romanæ_, viii. 28. Wallon, _op. cit._ ii. 29, n. 1.] [Footnote 152: _Supra_, p. 615.] [Footnote 153: _Supra_, p. 425 _sq._] [Footnote 154: _Digesta_, xlviii. 8. 11. 2.] [Footnote 155: Seneca, _De beneficiis_, iii. 22. 3.] [Footnote 156: Wallon, _op. cit._ iii. 57 _sq._ Ingram, p. 63.] [Footnote 157: Hunter, _Exposition of Roman Law_, p. 159.] [Footnote 158: Wallon, _op. cit._ iii. 53.] [Footnote 159: Mommsen, _History of Rome_, iii. 305.] [Footnote 160: See Lecky, _History of Morals_, i. 302 _sq._] [Footnote 161: Seneca, _De clementia_, i. 18. 3.] [Footnote 162: _Idem_, _Epistolæ_, 47. _Idem_, _De beneficiis_, iii. 28. Epictetus, _Dissertationes_, i. 13. See also the collection of statements referring to slavery made by Holland, _Reign of the Stoics_, p. 186 _sqq._] [Footnote 163: Epictetus, _Fragmenta_, 42.] [Footnote 164: _Institutiones_, i. 3. 2.] Considering that Christianity has commonly been represented as almost the sole cause of the mitigation and final abolishment of slavery in Europe, it deserves special notice that the chief improvement in the condition of slaves at Rome took place at so early a period that Christianity could have absolutely no share in it. Nay, for about two hundred years after it was made the official religion of the Empire there was an almost complete pause in the legislation on the subject.[165] Under Justinian certain reforms were introduced: --enfranchisement was facilitated in various ways;[166] the rights of Roman citizens were granted to emancipated slaves, who had previously occupied an intermediate position between slavery and perfect freedom;[167] and though the law still refused to recognise the marriages of slaves, Justinian gave them a legal value after emancipation in establishing rights of succession.[168] But the inferior position of the slave was asserted as sternly as ever. He belonged to the {694} "corporeal" property of his master, he was reckoned among things which are tangible by their nature, like land, raiment, gold, and silver.[169] The constitution of Antoninus Pius restraining excessive severity on the part of masters was enforced, but the motive for this was not evangelic humanity.[170] It is said in the Institutes of Justinian, "This decision is a just one; for it greatly concerns the public weal, that no one be permitted to misuse even his own property."[171] [Footnote 165: _Cf._ Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 64.] [Footnote 166: _Institutiones_, i. 5 _sqq._] [Footnote 167: _Ibid._ i. 5. 3; iii. 7. 4.] [Footnote 168: _Ibid._ iii. 7 pr.] [Footnote 169: _Institutiones_, ii. 2. 1.] [Footnote 170: _Cf._ Milman, _History of Latin Christianity_, ii. 14.] [Footnote 171: _Institutiones_, i. 8. 2.] It is curious to note that the inconsistency of slavery with the tenet, "Do to others as you would be done by," though emphasised by a pagan philosopher, never seems to have occurred to any of the early Christian writers. Christianity recognised slavery from the beginning. The principle that all men are spiritually equal in Christ does not imply that they should be socially equal in the world. Slavery does not prevent anybody from performing the duties incumbent on a Christian, it does not bar the way to heaven, it is an external affair only, nothing but a name. He only is really a slave who commits sin.[172] Slavery is of course a burden, but a burden which has been laid upon the back of transgression. Man when created by God was free, and nobody was the slave of another until that just man Noah cursed Ham, his offending son; slavery, then, is a punishment sent by Him who best knows how to proportionate punishment to offence.[173] The slave himself ought not to desire to become free,[174] nay, if the master offers him freedom he ought not to accept it.[175] Not one of the Fathers even {695} hints that slavery is unlawful or improper.[176] In the early age martyrs possessed slaves, and so did abbots, bishops, popes, monasteries, and churches;[177] Jews and pagans only were prohibited from acquiring Christian slaves.[178] So little was the abolition of slavery thought of that a Council at Orleans, in the middle of the sixth century, expressly decreed the perpetuity of servitude among the descendants of slaves.[179] On the other hand, the Church showed a zeal to prevent accessions to slavery from capture, but her exertions were restricted to Christian prisoners of war.[180] As late as the nineteenth century the right of enslaving captives was defended by Bishop Bouvier.[181] [Footnote 172: Gregory Nazianzen, _Orationes_, xiv. 25 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, Ser. Graeca, xxxv. 891 _sq._). _Idem_, _Carmina_, i. 2. 26. 29 (_ibid._ xxxvii. 853); i. 2. 33. 133 _sqq._ (_ibid._ xxxvii. 937 _sq._). St. Chrysostom, _In cap. IX. Genes. Homilia XXIX._ 7 (_ibid._ liii. 270). _Idem_, _In Epist. I. ad Cor. Homilia XIX._ 5 (_ibid._ lxi. 158). St. Ambrose, _In Epistolam ad Colossenses_, 3 (Migne, _op. cit._ Ser. Lat. xvii. 439).] [Footnote 173: St. Augustine, _De civitate Dei_, xix. 15 (Migne, _op. cit._ xli. 643 _sq._).] [Footnote 174: St. Ignatius, _Epistola ad Polycarpum_, 4 (Migne, _op. cit._ Ser. Graeca, v. 723 _sq._). St. Augustine, _Ennaratio in Psalmum CXXIV._ 7 (Migne, _op. cit._ xxxvii. 1653).] [Footnote 175: Laurent, _Études sur l'histoire de l'humanité_, iv. 117.] [Footnote 176: _Cf._ Babington, _Influence of Christianity in Promoting the Abolition of Slavery in Europe_, p. 29.] [Footnote 177: _Ibid._ p. 22. Potgiesser, _Commentarii juris Germanici de statu servorum_, i. 4. 8, p. 176. Muratori, _Dissertazioni sopra le antichità italiane_, i. 244.] [Footnote 178: _Concilium Toletanum IV._ A.D. 633, can. 66 (Labbe-Mansi, _Sacrorum Conciliorum collectio_, x. 635). Blakey, _Temporal Benefits of Christianity_, p. 397. Digby, _Mores Catholici_, ii. 341. Cibrano, _Della schiavitù e del servaggio_, i. 272. Rivière, _L'Église et l'esclavage_, p. 350.] [Footnote 179: _Concilium Aurelianense IV._ about A.D. 545, can. 32 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ ix. 118 _sq._).] [Footnote 180: _Concilium Rhemense_, about A.D. 630, can. 22 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ x. 597). Gratian, _Decretum_, ii. 12. 2. 13 _sqq._ Baronius, _Annales Ecclesiastici_, A.D. 1263, ch. 74 vol. xxii. 124. Le Blant, _Inscriptions chrétiennes de la Gaule_, ii. 284 _sqq._ Babington, _op. cit._ pp. 51 _sqq._, 94 _sq._ Nys, _Le droit de la guerre et les précurseurs de Grotius_, p. 114.] [Footnote 181: Bouvier, _Institutiones philosophicæ_, p. 566.] The Apostles reminded slaves of their duties towards their masters and masters of their duties towards their slaves.[182] The same was done by Councils and Popes. The Council of Gangra, about the year 324, pronounced its anathema on anyone who should teach a slave to despise his master on pretence of religion;[183] and so much importance was attached to this decree that it was inserted in the epitome of canons which Hadrian I. in 773 presented to Charlemagne in Rome.[184] But there are also many instances in which masters are recommended to show humanity to their slaves.[185] According to Gregory IX. {696} "the slaves who were washed in the fountain of holy baptism should be more liberally treated in consideration of their having received so great a benefit."[186] Slaves who had taken refuge from their masters in churches or monasteries were not to be given up until the master had sworn not to punish the fugitive;[187] or they were never given up, but became slaves to the sanctuary.[188] The Church, as we have seen, protected the life of the slave by excommunicating for a couple of years masters who killed their slaves.[189] She prohibited the sale of Christian slaves to Jews and heathen nations.[190] The Council of Chalons, in the middle of the seventh century, ordered that no Christians should be sold outside the kingdom of Clovis, so that they might not get into captivity or become the slaves of Jewish masters;[191] and some Anglo-Saxon laws similarly forbade the sale of Christians out of the country, and especially into bondage to heathen, "that those souls perish not that Christ bought with his own life."[192] The clergy sometimes remonstrated against slave markets; but their indignation never reached the trade in heathen slaves,[193] nor was the master's right of selling any of his slaves whenever he pleased called in question at all. The assertion made by many writers that the Church exercised an extremely favourable influence upon slavery[194] surely involves a great exaggeration. As late as the thirteenth century the master practically had the power of life and death over his slave.[195] Throughout Christendom the purchase and {697} the sale of men, as property transferred from vendor to buyer, was recognised as a legal transaction of the same validity with the sale of other merchandise, land or cattle.[196] Slaves had a title to nothing but subsistence and clothes from their masters, all the profits of their labour accruing to the latter; and if a master from indulgence gave his slaves any _peculium_, or fixed allowance for their subsistence, they had no right of property in what they saved out of that, but all that they accumulated belonged to their master.[197] A slave or a freedman was not allowed to bring a criminal charge against a free person, except in the case of a _crimen læsæ majestatis_,[198] and slaves were incapable of being received as witnesses against freemen.[199] The old distinction between the marriage of the freeman and the concubinage of the slave was long recognised by the Church: slaves could not marry, but had only a right of _contubernium_, and their unions did not receive the nuptial benediction of a priest.[200] Subsequently, when conjunction between slaves came to be considered a lawful marriage, they were not permitted to marry without the consent of their master, and such as transgressed this rule were punished very severely, sometimes even with death.[201] [Footnote 182: _Ephesians_, vi. 5 _sqq._ _Colossians_, iii. 22 _sqq._; iv. 1.] [Footnote 183: _Concilium Gangrense_, about A.D. 324, can. 3 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ ii. 1102, 1106, 1110).] [Footnote 184: 'Epitome canonum, quam Hadrianus I. Carolo magno obtulit, A.D. DCCLXXIII.' in Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ xii. 863.] [Footnote 185: Babington, _op. cit._ p. 58 _sqq._] [Footnote 186: Baronius, _Annales Ecclesiastici_, A.D. 1238, ch. 62, vol. xxi. 204.] [Footnote 187: Milman, _op. cit._ ii. 51. Rivière, _op. cit._ p. 306. Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel des peuples modernes_, ii. 246, n. 1.] [Footnote 188: 'Concilium Kingesburiense sub Bertulpho,' in Wilkins, _Concilia Magnæ Britanniæ et Hiberniæ_, i. 181.] [Footnote 189: _Supra_, p. 426.] [Footnote 190: _Concilium Rhemense_, about A.D. 630, can. 11 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ x. 596). _Concilium Liptinense_, A.D. 743, can. 3 (_ibid._ xii. 371). Hefele, _Beiträge zur Kirchengeschichte_, i. 218. _Idem_, _History of the Councils of the Church_, v. 211.] [Footnote 191: _Concilium Cabilonense_, about A.D. 650, can. 9 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ x. 1191).] [Footnote 192: _Laws of Ethelred_, v. 2; vi. 9. _Laws of Cnut_, ii. 3.] [Footnote 193: Hüllmann, _Stædtewesen des Mittelalters_, i. 80 _sq._ Loring Brace, _Gesta Christi_, p. 229. Rivière, _op. cit._ p. 325.] [Footnote 194: Yanoski, _De l'abolition de l'esclavage ancien au moyen age_, p. 74 _sq._ Allard, _Les esclaves chrétiens depuis les premiers temps de l'Église_, p. 487; &c.] [Footnote 195: _Supra_, p. 427 _sq._] [Footnote 196: Potgiesser, _op. cit._ ii. 4. 5, p. 429. Milman, _op. cit._ ii. 16.] [Footnote 197: Potgiesser, _op. cit._ ii. 10, p. 528 _sqq._ Du Cange, _Glossarium ad scriptores mediæ et infimæ Latinitatis_, vi. 451. Robertson, _History of the Reign of the Emperor Charles V._ i. 274.] [Footnote 198: Potgiesser, _op. cit._ iii. 3. 2, p. 612.] [Footnote 199: Beaumanoir, _Coutumes du Beauvoisis_, xxxix. 32, vol. ii, 103. Du Cange, _op. cit._ vi. 452. Potgiesser, _op. cit._ iii. 3. 1, p. 611.] [Footnote 200: Potgiesser, _op. cit._ ii. 2. 10 _sq._, p. 354 _sq._] [Footnote 201: _Ibid._ ii. 2. 12, p. 355 _sq._] The gradual disappearance of slavery in Europe during the latter part of the Middle Ages has also commonly been in the main attributed to the influence of the Church.[202] But this opinion is hardly supported by facts. It is true that the Church in some degree encouraged the manumission of slaves. Though slavery was considered a {698} perfectly lawful institution, the enfranchisement of a fellow-Christian was deemed a meritorious act, and was sometimes strongly recommended on Christian principles. At the close of the sixth century it was affirmed that, as Christ had come to break the chain of our servitude and restore our primitive liberty, so it was well for us to imitate Him by making free those whom the law of nations had reduced to slavery;[203] and the same doctrine was again proclaimed at various times down to the sixteenth century.[204] In the Carlovingian period the abbot Smaragdus expressed the opinion that among other good and salutary works each one ought to let slaves go free, considering that not nature but sin had subjected them to their masters.[205] In the latter part of the twelfth century the prelates of France, and in particular the Archbishop of Sens, pretended that it was an obligation of conscience to accord liberty to all Christians, relying on a decree of a Council held at Rome by Pope Alexander III.[206] And in one of the later compilations of German mediæval law it was said that the Lord Jesus, by his injunction to render unto Cæsar the things which are Cæsar's and unto God the things that are God's, indicated that no man is the property of another, but that every man belongs to God.[207] Slaves were liberated "for God's love," or "for the remedy" or "ransom of the soul."[208] In the formularies of manumission given by the monk Marculfus in the seventh century we read, for instance:--"He that releases his slave who is bound to him, may trust that God will recompense him in the next world";[209] "For the remission of my sins, I absolve thee";[210] "For the glory {699} of God's name and for my eternal retribution," &c.[211] Too much importance, however, has often been attached to these phrases; the most trivial occurrences, such as giving a book to a monastery, are commonly accompanied by similar expressions,[212] and it appears from certain formulas that slaves were not only liberated, but also bought and sold, "in the name of God."[213] Nor can we suppose that it was from religious motives only that manumissions were encouraged by the clergy. It has been pointed out that, "as dying persons were frequently inclined to make considerable donations for pious uses, it was more immediately for the interest of churchmen, that people of inferior condition should be rendered capable of acquiring property, and should have the free disposal of what they had acquired." It also seems that those who obtained their liberty by the influence of the clergy had to reward their benefactors, and that the manumission should for this reason be confirmed by the Church.[214] And whilst the Church favoured liberation of the slaves of laymen, she took care to prevent liberation of her own slaves; like a physician she did not herself swallow the medicine which she prescribed to others. She allowed alienation of such slaves only as showed a disposition to run away.[215] The Council of Agatho, in 506, considered it unfair to enfranchise the slaves of monasteries, seeing that the monks themselves were daily compelled to labour;[216] and, as a matter of fact, the slaves of monasteries were everywhere among the last who were manumitted.[217] In the seventh century a Council at Toledo threatened with damnation any bishop who should liberate a slave belonging to the Church, without giving {700} due compensation from his own property, as it was thought impious to inflict a loss on the Church of Christ;[218] and according to several ecclesiastical regulations no bishop or priest was allowed to manumit a slave in the patrimony of the Church unless he put in his place two slaves of equal value.[219] Nay, the Church was anxious not only to prevent a reduction of her slaves, but to increase their number. She zealously encouraged people to give up themselves and their posterity to be the slaves of churches and monasteries, to enslave their bodies--as some of the charters put it--in order to procure the liberty of their souls.[220] And in the middle of the seventh century a Council decreed that the children of incontinent priests should become the slaves of the churches where their fathers officiated.[221] [Footnote 202: Clarkson, _Essay on Slavery_, p. 19, _sq._ Biot, _De l'abolition de l'esclavage ancien en Occident_, p. xi. Thérou, _Le Christianisme et l'esclavage_, p. 147. Martin, _Histoire de France jusqu'en_ 1789, iii. 11, n. 2. Balmes, _El Protestantismo comparado con el Catolicismo_, i. 285. Blakey, _op. cit._ p. 170. Yanoski, _op. cit._ p. 75. Cochin, _L'abolition de l'esclavage_, ii. 349, 458. Littré, _Études sur les Barbares et le Moyen Age_, p. 230 _sq._ Allard, _op. cit._ p. 490. Tedeschi, _La schiavitù_, p. 68. Lecky, _History of Rationalism in Europe_, ii. 216, 236 _sqq._ Maine, _International Law_, p. 160. Kidd, _Social Evolution_, p. 168.] [Footnote 203: St. Gregory the Great, _Epistolæ_, vi. 12 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, lxxvii. 803 _sq._). Gratian, _op. cit._ ii. 12. 2. 68. Potgiesser, _op. cit._ iv. 1. 3, p. 666 _sq._] [Footnote 204: Babington, _op. cit._ p. 180.] [Footnote 205: Smaragdus, _Via Regia_, 30 (d'Achery, _Spicilegium_, i. 253).] [Footnote 206: de Boulainvilliers, _Histoire de l'ancien gouvernement de la France_, i. 312.] [Footnote 207: _Speculum Saxonum_, iii. 42 (Goldast, _Collectio consuetudinum et legum imperialium_, p. 158).] [Footnote 208: Du Cange, _op. cit._ iv. 460 _sqq._ Potgiesser, _op. cit._ iv. 12. 5, p. 751 _sqq._ Muratori, _op. cit._ i. 249. Robertson, _op. cit._ i. 323. Milman, _op. cit._ ii. 51 _sq._] [Footnote 209: Marculfus, _Formulæ_, ii. 32 (Migne, _op. cit._ lxxxvii. 747).] [Footnote 210: _Ibid._ ii. 33 (Migne, _op. cit._ lxxxvii. 748).] [Footnote 211: Marculfus, _Formulæ_, ii. 34 (Migne, _op. cit._ lxxxvii. 748).] [Footnote 212: Babington, _op. cit._ p. 61, n. 6.] [Footnote 213: _Formulæ Bignonianæ_, 2, 'Venditio de servo' (Baluze, _Capitularia regum Francorum_, ii. 497):--"Domino magnifico fratri illi emptori, ego in Dei nomine ille venditor."] [Footnote 214: Millar, _Origin of the Distinction of Ranks_, p. 274 _sq._] [Footnote 215: Gratian, _op. cit._ ii. 12. 2. 54.] [Footnote 216: _Concilium Agathense_, A.D. 506, can. 56 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ viii. 334).] [Footnote 217: Hallam, _View of the State of Europe during the Middle Ages_ (ed. 1837), i. 221.] [Footnote 218: _Concilium Toletanum IV._ A.D. 633, can. 67 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ x. 635).] [Footnote 219: Gratian, _op. cit._ ii. 12. 2. 58. Potgiesser, _op. cit._ iv. 2. 4, p. 673.] [Footnote 220: Du Cange, _op. cit._ iv. 1286. Potgiesser, _op. cit._ i. 1. 6 _sq._, p. 5 _sqq._ Muratori, _op. cit._ i. 234 _sqq._ Robertson, _op. cit._ i. 326.] [Footnote 221: _Concilium Toletanum IX._ A.D. 655, can. 10 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ xi. 29).] The disappearance of mediæval slavery has further, to some extent, been attributed to the efforts of kings to weaken the power of the nobles.[222] Thus Louis X. and Philip the Long of France issued ordinances declaring that, as all men were by nature free, and as their kingdom was called the kingdom of the Franks, they would have the fact to correspond with the name, and emancipated all persons in the royal domains upon paying a just compensation, as an example for other lords to follow.[223] Muratori believes that in Italy the wars during the twelfth and following centuries contributed more than anything else to the decline of slavery, as there was a need of soldiers and soldiers must be freemen.[224] According to others the disappearance of slavery was largely effected by the great famines and epidemics with which Europe was visited during the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth {701} centuries.[225] The number of slaves was also considerably reduced by the ancient usage of enslaving prisoners of war being replaced by the more humane practice of accepting ransom for them, which became the general rule in the later part of the Middle Ages, at least in the case of Christian captives.[226] But it seems that the chief cause of the extinction of slavery in Europe was its transformation into serfdom. [Footnote 222: Robertson, _op. cit._ i. 47 _sq._ Millar, _op. cit._ p. 276 _sqq._] [Footnote 223: Decrusy, Isambert, and Jourdan, _Recueil général des anciennes lois françaises_, iii. 102 _sqq._] [Footnote 224: Muratori, _op. cit._ i. 234 _sq._ _Idem_, _Rerum Italicarum scriptores_, xviii. 268, 292.] [Footnote 225: Biot, _op. cit._ p. 318 _sqq._ Saco, _Historia de la esclavitud_, iii. 241 _sqq._] [Footnote 226: Ward, _Enquiry into the Foundation and History of the Law of Nations in Europe_, i. 298 _sq._ Babington, _op. cit._ p. 147. Ayala, _De jure et officiis bellicis_, i. 5. 19. In the sixteenth century the statutes of some Italian towns make mention of the sale of slaves, who probably were Turkish captives (Nys, _Le droit de la guerre et les précurseurs de Grotius_, p. 140).] This transformation has been traced to the diminished supply of slaves, which made it the interest of each family to preserve indefinitely its own hereditary slaves, and to keep up their number by the method of propagation. The existence and physical well-being of the slave became consequently an object of greater value to his master, and the latter found it most profitable to attach his slaves to certain pieces of land.[227] Moreover, the cultivation of the ground required that the slaves should have a fixed residence in different parts of the master's estate, and when a slave had thus been for a long time engaged in a particular farm, he was so much the better qualified to continue in the management of it for the future. By degrees he therefore came to be regarded as belonging to the stock upon the ground, and was disposed of as a part of the estate which he had been accustomed to cultivate.[228] [Footnote 227: Storch, _Cours d'économie politique_, iv. 260. Ingram, _op. cit._ p. 72.] [Footnote 228: Millar, _op. cit._ p. 263 _sqq._] But serfdom itself was merely a transitory condition destined to lead up to a state of entire liberty. As the proprietor of a large estate could not oversee the behaviour of his villeins, scattered over a wide area of land, the only means of exciting their industry would be to offer them a reward for the work which they performed. Thus, besides the ordinary maintenance allotted {702} to them, they frequently obtained a part of the profits, and became capable of having separate property.[229] In many cases this no doubt enabled the serf to purchase his liberty out of his earnings;[230] whilst in others the master would have an interest in allowing him to pay a fixed rent and to retain the surplus for himself. The landlord was then freed from the hazard of accidental losses, and obtained not only a certain, but frequently an additional, revenue from his land, owing to the greater exertions of cultivators who worked for their own benefit;[231] and at the same time the personal subjection of the peasants naturally came to an end, as it was of no consequence to the landlord how they conducted themselves provided that they punctually paid the rents. Nor was there any reason to insist that they should remain in the farm longer than they pleased; for the profits it afforded made them commonly not more willing to leave it than the proprietor was to put them away.[232] Another factor which led to the disappearance of serfdom was the encouragement which Sovereigns, always jealous of the great lords, gave to the villeins to encroach upon their authority.[233] We have convincing proof that in England, before the end of Edward III.'s reign, the villeins found themselves sufficiently powerful to protect one another, and to withhold their ancient and accustomed services from their lord.[234] In Germany, again, the landlords sometimes furnished their villeins with arms to defend the cause of their master, and this undoubtedly tended to their enfranchisement, as persons who are taught to use and allowed to possess weapons will soon make {703} themselves respected.[235] A great number of villeins also shook off the fetters of their servitude by fleeing for refuge to some chartered town,[236] where they became free at once,[237] or, more commonly, after a certain stipulated period--a year and a day,[238] or more;[239] and it seems, besides, that the rapid disappearance of serfdom in the prospering free towns indirectly, by way of example, promoted the enfranchisement of rural serfs.[240] There are, further, instances of lords liberating their villeins at the intercession of their spiritual confessors, the clergy availing themselves of every opportunity to lessen the formidable power of their great rivals, the temporal nobility.[241] But the influence which the Church exercised in favour of the enfranchisement of serfs was even less than her share in the abolition of slavery proper.[242] She represented serfdom as a divine institution,[243] as a school of humility, as a road to future glory.[244] She was herself the greatest {704} serf-holder;[245] and so strenuously did she persist in retaining her villeins, that after Voltaire had raised his powerful outcry in favour of liberty and Louis XVI. himself had been induced to abolish "the right of servitude" in consideration of "the love of humanity," the Church still refused to emancipate her serfs.[246] But whilst the cause of freedom owes little to the Christian Church, it owes so much the more to the feelings of humanity and justice in some of her opponents. [Footnote 229: Millar, _op. cit._ p. 264. Simonde de Sismondi, _Histoire des républiques italiennes du moyen âge_, xvi. 365 _sq._ Guérard, _Cartulaire de l'Abbaye de Saint-Père de Chartres_, i. p. xli. Dunham, _History of the Germanic Empire_, i. 230.] [Footnote 230: See Vinogradoff, _Villainage in England_, p. 87; Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the Time of Edward I._ i. 36, 427.] [Footnote 231: Adam Smith, _Wealth of Nations_, p. 173. Millar, _op. cit._ p. 267 _sqq._ Mill, _Principles of Political Economy_, i. 309, 311. Dunham, _op. cit._ i. 228 _sq._ On the inefficiency of slave labour, see also Storch, _op. cit._ iv. 275 _sqq._] [Footnote 232: Millar, _op. cit._ p. 269 _sq._] [Footnote 233: Adam Smith, _Wealth of Nations_, p. 173.] [Footnote 234: Eden, _State of the Poor_, i. 30.] [Footnote 235: Dunham, _op. cit._ i. 229.] [Footnote 236: Guibertus de Novigento, 'De vita sua,' in Bouquet, _Rerum Gallicarum et Franciarum scriptores_, xii. 257. 'Fragmentum historicum vitam Ludovici VII. summatim complectens,' _ibid._ xii. 286. Beaumanoir, _op. cit._ xlv. 36, vol. ii. 237. Eden, _op. cit._ i. 30. Laurent, _op. cit._ vii. 531 _sq._ Saco, _op. cit._ iii. 252.] [Footnote 237: Laurent, _op. cit._ vii. 532.] [Footnote 238: Glanville, _Tractates de Legibus et Consuetudinibus Regni Angliæ_, v. 5. Bracton, _De Legibus et Consuetudinibus Angliæ_, fol. 198 b, vol. iii. 292 _sq._ Beaumanoir, _op. cit._ xlv. 36, vol. ii. 237. Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ i. 429, 648 _sq._ Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 337 _sq._ Laurent, _op. cit._ vii. 532.] [Footnote 239: Laurent, _op. cit._ vii. 532.] [Footnote 240: _Ibid._ vii. 533 _sq._] [Footnote 241: Thomas Smith, _Common-wealth of England_, p. 250. Eden, _op. cit._ i. 10. Sugenheim, _Geschichte der Aufhebung der Leibeigenschaft und Hörigkeit in Europa_, p. 109.] [Footnote 242: _Cf._ Rivière, _op. cit._ p. 511. Babington says (_op. cit._ p. 148 _sq._) that in the five-hundred pages of Wilkins' _Concilia_, which comprise the ecclesiastical documents of the British churches in the thirteenth century, we only find the following regulations concerning the unfree population:--that neither freemen nor villeins are to be impeded in making their wills when death approaches; that monks are not to alienate their less useful slaves (_famulos_); that Jews are not allowed to possess Christian slaves.--It was said that "he puts a disgrace on God who raises a villein above his station" (_ibid._ p. 150).] [Footnote 243: Adalbero, _Carmen ad Rotbertum regem Francorum_, 291, 292, 297 _sqq._ (Bouquet, _op. cit._ x. 70):--"Thesaurus, vestis, cunctis sunt pascua servi. Nam valet ingenuus sine servis vivere nullus. . . . Triplex ergo Dei domus est, quæ creditur una. Nunc orant alii; pugnant; aliique laborant: Quæ tria sunt simul, et scissuram non patiuntur." St. Bonaventura, quoted by Laurent, _op. cit._ vii. 522:--"Non solum secundum humanam institutionem, sed etiam secundum divinam dispensationem, inter Christianos sunt domini et servi."] [Footnote 244: Laurent, _op. cit._ vii. 523.] [Footnote 245: Laurent, _op. cit._ vii. 524.] [Footnote 246: Hettner, _Geschichte der französischen Literatur im achtzehnten Jahrhundert_, p. 169. Babington, _op. cit._ p. 108. Sugenheim, _op. cit._ p. 156 _sqq._ Laurent, _op. cit._ vii. 537 _sq._] * * * * * Not long after serfdom had begun to disappear in the most advanced communities of Christendom a new kind of slavery was established in the colonies of European states. It grew up under circumstances particularly favourable to the employment of slaves. Whether slave labour or free labour is more profitable to the employer depends on the wages of the free labourer, and these again depend on the numbers of the labouring population compared with the capital and the land. In the rich and underpeopled soil of the West Indies and in the Southern States of America the balance of the profits between free and slave labour was on the side of slavery. Hence slavery was introduced there, and flourished, and could be abolished only with the greatest difficulty.[247] [Footnote 247: Mill, _Principles of of Political Economy_, i. 311.] From a moral point of view negro slavery is interesting chiefly because it existed in the midst of a highly developed Christian civilisation, and nevertheless, at least in the British colonies and the United States, was the most brutal form of slavery ever known. It may be worth while to consider more closely some points of the legislation relating to it. In America, as elsewhere, the state of slavery was hereditary. The child of a female slave was itself a slave and belonged to the owner of its mother even if its father was a freeman, whereas the child of a free woman was {705} free even if its father was a slave.[248] When the slave-trade was prohibited, heredity remained the only legitimate source of slavery; but even then a freeborn negro was far from safe. In the British colonies and in all the Slave States except one, every negro was presumed to be a slave until he could prove the reverse.[249] A man who, within the limits of a slave-holding State, could exhibit a person of African extraction in his custody was exempted from all necessity of making proof how he had obtained him or by what authority he claimed him as a slave. Nay more, through the direct action of Congress it became law that persons known to be free should be sold as slaves in order to cover the costs of imprisonment which they had suffered on account of the false suspicion that they were runaway slaves. This law was repeatedly put into effect. "How many crowned despots," says Professor von Hoist, "can be mentioned in the history of the old world who have done things which compare in accursedness with this law to which the democratic republic gave birth?"[250] [Footnote 248: Stroud, _Laws relating to Slavery in the United States of America_, p. 16 _sqq._ Cobb, _Inquiry into the Law of Negro Slavery in the United States of America_, p. 68. Stephen, _Slavery of the British West India Colonies_, i. 122. _Code Noir_, Édit du mois de Mars 1685, art. 13, p. 35 _sq._; Édit donné au mois de Mars 1724, art. 10, p. 288 _sq._ In Maryland, according to an early enactment, which obtained till the year 1699 or 1700, all the children born of a slave were slaves "as their fathers were" (Stroud, _op. cit._ p. 14 _sqq._). In Cuba the nobler parent determined the rank of the offspring (Newman, _Anglo-Saxon Abolition of Negro Slavery_, p. 17).] [Footnote 249: Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 369 _sq._ Stroud, _op. cit._ pp. 125, 126, 130. Cobb, _op. cit._ p. 67. Wheeler, _Treatise on the Law of Slavery_, p. 5.] [Footnote 250: von Holst, _Constitutional and Political History of the United States_, i. 305.] Slaves were defined as "chattels personal in the hands of their respective owners or possessors, and their executors, administrators, and assigns, to all intents and purposes whatsoever."[251] In the British colonies and the American Slave States they were at all times liable to be sold or otherwise alienated at the will of their masters, as absolutely as cattle, or any other personal effects. They were {706} also liable to be sold by process of law for satisfaction of the debts of a living, or the debts or bequests of a deceased master, at the suit of creditors or legatees. They were transmitted by inheritance or by will to heirs at law or to legatees, and in the distribution of estates they were distributed like other property.[252] No regard was paid to family ties. Except in Louisiana, where children under ten years of age could not be sold separately from their mothers,[253] no law existed to prevent the violent separation of parents from their children or from each other.[254] And what the law did not prevent, the slave-owners did not omit doing; thus Virginia was known as a breeding place out of which the members of one household were sold into every part of the country.[255] All this, however, holds true of the British colonies and Slave States only. In the Spanish, Portuguese, and French colonies plantation slaves were real estate, attached to the soil they cultivated. They partook therewith of all the restraints upon voluntary alienation to which the possessor of the land was there liable, and they could not be seized or sold by creditors, for satisfaction of the debts of the owner.[256] As regards the sale of members of the same family the Code Noir expressly says, "Ne pourront être saisis et vendus séparément, le mari et la femme, et leurs enfans impubéres, s'ils sont tous sous la puissance du même Maître."[257] A slave could make no contract; he could not even contract marriage, in the juridical sense of the word. The association which took place among slaves and was called marriage was virtually the same as the Roman _contubernium_, a relation which had no sanctity and to which no civil rights were attached.[258] The master could whenever {707} he liked separate the "husband" and "wife"; he could, if he pleased, commit "adultery" with the "wife," and was the absolute owner of all the children born by her. A slave had "no more legal authority over his child than a cow has over her calf." On the other hand, the common rules of sexual morality were not enforced on the slaves. They were not admonished for incontinence, nor punished for adultery, nor prosecuted for bigamy. Incontinence was rather thought a matter of course in the slave. We are told that even in Puritan New England female slaves in ministers' and magistrates' families bore children, black or yellow, without marriage, that no one inquired who their fathers were, and that nothing more was thought of it than of the breeding of sheep or swine. And concerning the "slave-quarters" connected with the plantations the universal testimony was that the sexes were there "herded together promiscuously, like beasts."[259] [Footnote 251: Brevard, _Digest of the Public Statute Law of South-Carolina_, p. 229. Prince, _Digest of the Laws of Georgia_, p. 777. In the French _Code Noir_ (Édit du mois de Mars 1685, art. 44, p. 49; Édit donné au mois de Mars 1724, art. 40, p. 305) slaves are declared to be "meubles."] [Footnote 252: Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 62. Stroud, _op. cit._ p. 84. Goodell, _American Slave Code in Theory and Practice_, p. 63 _sqq._] [Footnote 253: Peirce, Taylor, and King, _Consolidation and Revision of the Statutes of the State_ [_Louisiana_], pp. 523, 550 _sq._] [Footnote 254: Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 62 _sq._ Stroud, _op. cit._ p. 82.] [Footnote 255: Pearson, _National Life and Character_, p. 210.] [Footnote 256: Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 69.] [Footnote 257: _Code Noir_, Édit du mois de Mars 1685, art. 47, p. 51; Édit donné au mois de Mars 1724, art. 43, p. 306.] [Footnote 258: Cobb, _op. cit._ p. 240 _sqq._ Stroud, _op. cit._ p. 99. Goodell, _American Slave Code_, p. 105 _sqq._ Wheeler, _op. cit._ p. 199. According to the Civil Code of Louisiana, "slaves cannot marry without the consent of their masters, and their marriages do not produce any of the civil effects which result from such contract" (Morgan, _Civil Code of Louisiana_, art. 182, p. 29).] [Footnote 259: Goodell, _American Slave Code_, p. 111. In 1835 the query was presented to a Baptist Association of ministers, "whether, in case of involuntary separation of such a character as to preclude all future intercourse, the parties may be allowed to marry again?" The answer was, "that such separation among persons situated as our slaves are, is civilly a separation by death, and they believe that, in the sight of God, it would be so viewed. To forbid second marriages in such cases would be to expose the parties not only to greater hardships and stronger temptations, but to church censure for acting _in obedience to their masters_." Incidentally here the fact leaks out that slave cohabitation is enforced by the authority of the masters for the increase of their human chattels (Goodell, _Slavery and Anti-Slavery_, p. 185).] Yet though slaves were regarded as chattels, the master could not do with his slave exactly what he pleased. We have noticed that the life of the slave was in some degree, though very insufficiently, protected by law,[260] and that a master who mutilated his slave was subject to a slight penalty.[261] The law also took care to prohibit the master from doing things which were considered injurious to the community or the State. There was a great fear of teaching negroes to read and write. William Knox, in a tract addressed to "the venerable Society for propagation {708} of the Gospel in foreign parts" in the year 1768, remarks that "instruction renders them less fit or less willing to labour," and that, if they were universally taught to read, there would undoubtedly be a general insurrection of the negroes leading to the massacre of their owners.[262] A similar fear underlies the laws on the subject which we meet with in the codes of some of the Slave States. According to the Negro Act of 1740 for South Carolina, any person who instructed a slave in writing was subject to a fine of one hundred pounds;[263] but this enactment was later on considered too liberal. A law of 1834 placed under the ban all efforts to teach the coloured race either reading or writing, and the punishment was no longer a pecuniary fine only, but, besides, imprisonment for six months or a shorter time or, if the offender was a free person of colour, whipping not exceeding fifty lashes.[264] In Georgia a law of 1770, which prohibited the instruction of slaves in reading and writing, was in 1833 followed by an act which extended the prohibition to free persons of colour.[265] In Louisiana the teaching of slaves was punished with imprisonment for not less than one month nor more than twelve months.[266] North Carolina allowed slaves to be made acquainted with arithmetical calculations, but sternly interdicted instruction in reading and writing;[267] whilst Alabama warred with the rudiments of reading, forbidding any coloured persons, bond or free, to be taught not only reading and writing, but spelling.[268] In all these States the prohibitions referred to the master of the slave as well as to other persons. In Virginia, on the other hand, the master might teach his slave whatever he liked, but others might not.[269] [Footnote 260: _Supra_, p. 428 _sq._] [Footnote 261: _Supra_, p. 517.] [Footnote 262: Knox, _Three Tracts respecting the Conversion and Instruction of the Free Indians and Negroe Slaves in the Colonies_, p. 15 _sq._] [Footnote 263: Brevard, _op. cit._ ii. 243.] [Footnote 264: McCord, _Statutes at large of South Carolina_, vii. 468.] [Footnote 265: Prince, _op. cit._ pp. 785, 658.] [Footnote 266: Peirce, Taylor, and King, _op. cit._ p. 552.] [Footnote 267: _Revised Statutes of North Carolina passed by the General Assembly at the Session of_ 1836-7, xxxiv. 74, cxi. 27, vol. i. 209, 578.] [Footnote 268: Clay, _Digest of the Laws of Alabama_, p. 543.] [Footnote 269: _Code of Virginia_, cxcviii. 31 _sq._ Stroud, _op. cit._ p. 142.] {709} There is yet another point in which the master's power was restricted in a most unusual way: in many cases he was not allowed to liberate his slave, or formidable obstacles were put in the way of manumission. Thus, in North Carolina a slave could formerly not be enfranchised except for meritorious services;[270] but this enactment was altered by the Revised Statutes of 1836-1837, according to which any emancipation granted to any slave "shall be upon the express condition, that he, she or they will leave the State, within ninety days from the granting thereof, and never will return within the State afterwards."[271] The Civil Code of Louisiana required that a slave, to be emancipated, should have attained the age of thirty years and behaved well at least for four years preceding the emancipation, unless, indeed, the slave had saved the life of his master or of one of his children, in which case he might be set free at any age;[272] and, according to a statute of 1852, the emancipated slave should be sent out of the United States within twelve months after his emancipation.[273] In several other States manumission was likewise hampered by various regulations;[274] and throughout the British West Indies there were restraints on manumission prior to the Emancipation Act.[275] By an act passed in Saint Christopher in the year 1802, a tax of £1,000 was imposed on the manumission of any slave who was not a native of, or had not resided for two years within, the island, whilst natives or residents might be enfranchised at half that price. But the authors of this act went further still. They considered that a master, though unwilling to pay £500 or £1,000 for the legal enfranchisement of a slave, might, during his own life, make him or her practically free by not exercising his own rights as master. Hence {710} they enacted "that if any proprietor of a slave should, by any contract in writing or otherwise, dispense with the slave's service, or should be proved before a justice of peace not to have exercised any right of ownership over such slave, and maintained him or her at his own expense, within a month, the slave should be publicly sold at vendue by the provost marshall; and should become the property of the purchaser, and the purchase-money should be paid into the colonial treasury."[276] In St. Vincents one hundred pounds sterling was required to be paid into the treasury for each slave sought to be manumitted,[277] whilst in Barbados a person minded to manumit a slave should pay £50 to the churchwarden of the parish in which he resided.[278] Very different were the Spanish laws on the subject of manumission. According to a law of 1528 a negro slave who had served a certain length of time was entitled to his liberty upon the payment of a certain sum, not less than twenty marks of gold, the exact amount to be settled by the royal authorities.[279] In 1540 a law was issued to the effect that "if any negro, or negress, or any other persons reputed slaves, should publicly demand their liberty, they should be heard, and justice be done to them, and care be taken that they should not on that account be maltreated by their masters."[280] Nay, a slave who wished to change his master and could prevail on any other person to buy him by appraisement, could demand and compel such a transfer,[281] and a master who treated his slaves inhumanly could be by the judge deprived of them.[282] In most of the British colonies and American Slave States, on the other hand, the slave had no legal right to obtain a change of master when cruel treatment made it necessary for his relief or preservation.[283] {711} The exceptions to this rule[284] were few and of little practical value. [Footnote 270: Stroud, _op. cit._ p. 233.] [Footnote 271: _Revised Statutes of North Carolina_, cxi. 58, vol. i. 585.] [Footnote 272: Morgan, _Civil Code of Louisiana_, art. 185 _sq._, p. 30 _sqq._] [Footnote 273: _Ibid._ Stat. 18th March, 1852, §1, p. 29.] [Footnote 274: Brevard, _op. cit._ ii. 255 _sq._ (South Carolina). Prince, _op. cit._ p. 787 (Georgia). Stroud, _op. cit._ p. 231 (Alabama). Alden and van Hoesen, _Digest of the Laws of Mississippi_, p. 761. Haywood and Cobbs, _Statute Laws of the State of Tennessee_, i. 327 _sq._] [Footnote 275: Cobb, _op. cit._ p. 282.] [Footnote 276: Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 401 _sq._] [Footnote 277: Cobb, _op. cit._ p. 282 _sq._] [Footnote 278: Moore, _Public Acts passed by the Legislature of Barbados_, p. 224 _sq._] [Footnote 279: Helps, _Spanish Conquest in America_, iv. 373.] [Footnote 280: _Recopilacion de leyes de los reinos de las Indias_, vii. 5. 8, vol. ii. 321.] [Footnote 281: Barre Saint Venant, quoted by Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 119 _sq._] [Footnote 282: Edwards, _History of the British West Indies_, iv. 451.] [Footnote 283: Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 106. Stroud, _op. cit._ p. 93.] [Footnote 284: Morgan, _Civil Code of Louisiana_, art. 192, p. 33. Morehead and Brown, _Digest of the Statute Laws of Kentucky_, ii. 1481. Edwards, _op. cit._ ii. 192 (Jamaica). Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 106 (some other British colonies). In the French islands a negro who had been cruelly treated, contrary to royal ordinances, was forfeited to the crown, and acquired, if not freedom, at least deliverance from a tyrannical master (_Code Noir_, Édit du mois de Mars 1685, art. 42, p. 48 _sq._; Édit donné au mois de Mars 1724, art. 38, p. 303 _sq._); but the Court which adjudged the offence might also decree the sufferer to be manumitted (Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 119).] This system of slavery, which at least in the British colonies and the Slave States surpassed in cruelty the slavery of any pagan country ancient or modern, was not only recognised by Christian governments, but was supported by the large bulk of the clergy, Catholic[285] and Protestant alike. In the beginning of the abolitionist movement the Churches acknowledged slavery to be a great evil, but with the making of this acknowledgment they believed that they had done their share, and denied that there was any obligation on them, or even that they had any right, to proceed against the slave-holders. But things did not stop here. The lamentations of resignation were gradually changed into excuses, and the excuses into justifications.[286] The Bible, it was said, contains no prohibition of slavery; on the contrary, slavery is recognised both in the Old and New Testaments. Abraham, the father of the faithful and the friend of God, had slaves; the Hebrews were directed to make slaves of the surrounding nations; St. Paul and St. Peter approved of the {712} relation of master and slave when they gave admonitions to both as to their reciprocal behaviour; the Saviour Himself said nothing in condemnation of slavery, although it existed in great aggravation while He was upon earth. If slavery were sinful, would it have been too much to expect that the Almighty had directed at least one little word against it in the last revelation of His will?[287] Nay, God not only permitted slavery, but absolutely provided for its perpetuity;[288] it is the very legislation of Heaven itself;[289] it is an institution which it is a religious duty to maintain,[290] and which cannot be abolished, because "God is pledged to sustain it."[291] According to some, slavery was founded on the judgment of God on a damned race, the descendants of Ham; according to others, it was only in this way that the African could be raised to a participation in the blessings of Christianity and civilisation.[292] With the name of "abolitionist" was thus associated the idea of infidelity, and the emancipation movement was branded as an attempt to spread the evils of scepticism through the land.[293] According to Governor Macduffie, of South Carolina, no human institution is more manifestly consistent with the will of God than slavery, and every community ought to punish the interference of abolitionists with death, without the benefit of clergy, "regarding the authors of it as enemies of the human race."[294] It is true that religious arguments were also adduced in favour of abolition. To hold men in bondage was said to be utterly inconsistent with the inalienable rights which the Creator had granted mankind, and still more obviously {713} at variance with the dictates of Christian love.[295] Many clergymen also joined the abolitionists. But it seems that in the middle of the nineteenth century the Quakers and the United Brethren were the only religious bodies that regarded slave-holding and slave-dealing as ecclesiastical offences.[296] The American Churches were justly said to be "the bulwarks of American slavery."[297] [Footnote 285: The attempts to represent the Roman Catholic clergy as ardent abolitionists (Cochin, _L'abolition de l'esclavage_, ii. 443; de Locqueneuille, _L'esclavage, ses promoteurs et ses adversaires_, p. 193) are certainly not justified by facts. Among the Catholics of the United States there were some advocates of emancipation, but their number was not large (Goodell, _Slavery and Anti-Slavery_, 195 _sq._; Parker, _Collected Works_, vi. 127 _sq._). Dr. England, the Catholic bishop of Charleston, South Carolina, undertook in public to prove that the Catholic Church had always been the uncompromising friend of slave-holding (Parker, _op. cit._ v. 57). In Brazil it was common for clergymen not only to possess slaves, but to buy and sell them with as little scruple as other merchandises (da Fonseca, _A esravidão, o clero e o abolicionismo_, pp. 28, 33). Bishop Bouvier wrote (_op. cit._ p. 568):--"Servi autem dominis suis obedire, sortem suam patienter tolerare et officia sibi imposita fideliter exsequi debent, quoadusque libertas ipsis concedatur. Meminerint præsentem vitam esse momentaneam, futuram vero æternam."] [Footnote 286: von Holst, _op. cit._ ii. 231 _sqq._] [Footnote 287: Barnes, _The Church and Slavery_, p. 15. Birney, _Letter to the Churches_, p. 3 _sq._ Bledsoe, _Essay on Liberty and Slavery_, p. 138 _sqq._ Gerrit Smith, _Letter to Rev. James Smylie_, p. 3. Cobb, _op. cit._ p. 54 _sqq._ Goodell, _Slavery and Anti-Slavery_, pp. 154-156, 167, 176, 181, 184, 186, &c. Parker, _Collected Works_, v. 157.] [Footnote 288: Thornton, quoted by Goodell, _Slavery and Anti-Slavery_, p. 147. Fisk, quoted _ibid._ p. 147.] [Footnote 289: Bledsoe, _op. cit._ p. 138.] [Footnote 290: Smylie, quoted by Gerrit Smith, _op. cit._ p. 3.] [Footnote 291: Quoted by Goodell, _Slavery and Anti-Slavery_, p. 347.] [Footnote 292: Barnes, _op. cit._ p. 16.] [Footnote 293: _Ibid._ p. 18. Newman, _Anglo-Saxon Abolition of Negro Slavery_, p. 56. Bledsoe, _op. cit._ p. 223.] [Footnote 294: Newman, _op. cit._ p. 53. von Holst, _op. cit._ ii. 118, n. 1.] [Footnote 295: Gurney, _Views and Practices of the Society of Friends_, p. 390. 'Anti-Slavery Declaration of 1833,' quoted by Goodell, _Slavery and Anti-Slavery_, p. 398. Birney, _Second Letter_, p. 1.] [Footnote 296: Parker, _op. cit._ v. 56.] [Footnote 297: von Holst, _op. cit._ ii. 230.] Nobody would suppose that this attitude towards slavery was due to religious zeal. It was one of those cases, only too frequent in the history of morals, in which religion is called in to lend its sanction to a social institution agreeable to the leaders of religious opinion. Many clergymen and missionaries were themselves slave-holders,[298] the chapel funds largely rested on slave property,[299] and the ministers naturally desired to be on friendly terms with the more important members of their respective congregations, who were commonly owners of slaves. Adam Smith observes that the resolution of the Quakers in Pennsylvania to set at liberty all their slaves, was due to the fact that the principal produce there was corn, the raising of which cannot afford the expense of slave cultivation; had the slaves "made any considerable part of their property, such a resolution could never have been agreed to."[300] [Footnote 298: Barnes, _op. cit._ p. 13. Goodell, _Slavery and Anti-Slavery_, pp. 151, 186 _sq._] [Footnote 299: Newman, _op. cit._ p. 53.] [Footnote 300: Adam Smith, _Wealth of Nations_, p. 172.] To explain the establishment of colonial slavery, the difficulties in the way of its abolition, and the laws relating to it, it is necessary to consider not only economic conditions and the motive of self-interest, but, as a factor of equal importance, the want of sympathy for, or positive antipathy to, the coloured race. The negro was looked upon almost as an animal, according to some he was a being without a soul.[301] Even when free he was a pariah, subject to special laws and regulations. In the Code of {714} Louisiana it is said:--"Free people of colour ought never to insult or strike white people, nor presume to conceive themselves equal to the whites; but, on the contrary, they ought to yield to them on every occasion, and never speak or answer them but with respect, under the penalty of imprisonment, according to the nature of the offence."[302] The Code Noir prohibited white men and women from marrying negroes, "à peine de punition et d'amende arbitraire";[303] and in the Revised Statutes of North Carolina we read:--"If any white man or woman, being free, shall intermarry with an Indian, negro, mustee or mulatto man or woman, or any person of mixed blood to the third generation, bond or free, he shall, by judgment of the county court, forfeit and pay the sum of one hundred dollars to the use of the county."[304] In Mississippi a free negro or mulatto was legally punished with thirty-nine lashes if he exercised the functions of a minister of the Gospel.[305] Coloured men in the North were excluded from colleges and high schools, from theological seminaries and from respectable churches, as also from the town hall, the ballot, and the cemetery where white people were interred.[306] The Anglo-Saxon aversion to the black race is thus expressed by an English writer:--"We hate slavery, but we hate the negroes still more."[307] Among the Spaniards and Portuguese racial antipathies were not so strong, and their slaves were consequently better treated.[308] [Footnote 301: von Holst, _op. cit._ i. 279. Malloch, 'How the Church dealt with Slavery,' in _The Month_, xxvii. 454.] [Footnote 302: Quoted by Stroud, _op. cit._ p. 157.] [Footnote 303: _Code Noir_, Édit donné au mois de Mars 1724, art. 6, p. 286.] [Footnote 304: _Revised Statutes of North Carolina_, lxxi. 5, vol. i. 386 _sq._] [Footnote 305: Alden and van Hoesen, _op. cit._ p. 771.] [Footnote 306: Parker, _op. cit._ v. 58. Goodell _Slavery and Anti-Slavery_, p. 200.] [Footnote 307: Seward, quoted by Newman, _Abolition of Negro Slavery_, p. 54.] [Footnote 308: Couty, _L'esclavage au Brésil_, p. 8 _sqq_.] Thus we notice in the opinions regarding slavery throughout the same distinction as in the judgments on other matters of moral concern. A person is, as a rule, allowed to enslave or to keep as slaves only persons belonging to a different community or a different race from his own, or their descendants. To deprive anybody of his liberty is to inflict an injury on him, and is regarded as {715} wrong whenever the act gives rise to sympathetic resentment, whereas nothing is thought of it where no sympathy is felt for its victim. Thus, whilst slavery grows up only under economic conditions favourable to slave labour, it is always limited by feelings of an altruistic character, and where these feelings are sufficiently broad and powerful it is not tolerated at all. The same factor also influences the condition of the slaves where slavery exists. We have seen that native slaves are better treated than foreign ones and slaves born in the household better than those who have been captured or purchased. The advancement of a nation, again, is frequently attended with greater severity in the treatment of the slaves, because, whilst the simplicity of early ages admits of little distinction between the master and his servants in their employments and manner of living, the introduction of wealth and luxury gradually destroys the equality. Besides, the number of slaves maintained in a wealthy nation makes them formidable both to their owners and to the State, hence it is necessary that they should be strictly watched and kept in the utmost subjection.[309] [Footnote 309: Millar, _op. cit._ p. 256 _sqq._] The condition of slaves is in various respects influenced by the selfish considerations of their masters. Stuart Mill observes:--"When, as among the ancients, the slave-market could only be supplied by captives either taken in war, or kidnapped from thinly scattered tribes on the remote confines of the human world, it was generally more profitable to keep up the number by breeding, which necessitates a far better treatment of them, and for this reason, joined with several others, the condition of slaves . . . was probably much less bad in the ancient world, than in the colonies of modern nations."[310] Among the Bedouins, says Burckhardt, "the slaves are treated with kindness, and seldom beaten, as severity might induce them to run away."[311] Superstition may also help to {716} improve the lot of the slave. In West Africa "the authority which a master exercises over a slave is very much modified by his constitutional dread of witchcraft. If he treats his slave unkindly, or inflicts unmerited punishment upon him, he exposes himself to all the machinations of witchcraft which that slave may be able to command."[312] It is said in the Proverbs, "Accuse not a servant unto his master, lest he curse thee, and thou be found guilty."[313] The same danger threatens the cruel master. We read in the Apostolic Constitutions, "Thy man-servant or thy maid-servant who trust in the same God, thou shalt not command with bitterness of spirit; lest they groan against thee, and wrath be upon thee from God."[314] [Footnote 310: Mill, _Principles of Political Economy_, i. 307. _Cf._ _supra_, p. 701.] [Footnote 311: Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 103.] [Footnote 312: Wilson, _Western Africa_, p. 271. See also _ibid._ p. 179; Cruickshank, _Eighteen Years on the Gold Coast_, ii. 180 _sqq._; Du Chaillu, _Explorations and Adventures in Equatorial Africa_, p. 331; Landtman, _Origin of Priesthood_, p. 198, n. 2.] [Footnote 313: _Proverbs_, xxx. 10.] [Footnote 314: _Constitutiones Apostolicæ_, vii. 13.] END OF VOL. I * * * * * _Printed by_ LOWE & BRYDONE (PRINTERS) LTD., _London, N.W. 1._ * * * * * THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE MORAL IDEAS [Macmillan icon] MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED LONDON . BOMBAY . CALCUTTA MELBOURNE THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK . BOSTON . CHICAGO DALLAS . SAN FRANCISCO THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. TORONTO THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE MORAL IDEAS BY EDWARD WESTERMARCK _Ph.D., LL.D._ (_Aberdeen_) MARTIN WHITE PROFESSOR OF SOCIOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF LONDON PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY AT THE UNIVERSITY OF FINLAND, HELSINFORS AUTHOR OF "THE HISTORY OF HUMAN MARRIAGE," "MARRIAGE CEREMONIES IN MOROCCO," ETC IN TWO VOLUMES VOL. II _SECOND EDITION_ MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON 1917 _COPYRIGHT_ _First Edition_, 1908 _Second Edition_, 1917 PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION OF VOL. II WHILE the text of the first edition has been left almost unchanged, some notes have been added at the end of it. E. W. LONDON, _September_, 1916. CONTENTS CHAPTER XXVIII THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY The meaning of the term "property," p. 1.--Savages accused of thievishness, p. 2.--Theft condemned by savages, pp. 2-13.--The condemnation of theft influenced by the value of the goods stolen, pp. 13-15.--The stealing of objects of a certain kind punished with particular severity, p. 14.--The appropriation of a small quantity of food not punished at all, p. 14 _sq._--Exceptions to the rule that the punishment of theft is influenced by the worth or nature of the appropriated property, p. 15.--The degree of criminality attached to theft influenced by the place where it is committed, p. 15 _sq._--A theft committed by night punished more heavily than one committed by day, p. 16.--Distinction made between ordinary theft and robbery, p. 16 _sq._--Distinction made between manifest and non-manifest theft, p. 17.--Successful thieves not disapproved of but rather admired, pp. 17-19.--The moral valuation of theft influenced by the social position of the thief and of the person robbed, p. 19 _sq._--Varies according as the victim is a tribesman or fellow-countryman or a stranger, pp. 20-25.--The treatment of ship-wrecked people in Europe, p. 25.--The destruction of property held legitimate in warfare, p. 25 _sq._--The seizure of private property in war, p. 26 _sq._--Military contributions and requisitions levied upon the inhabitants of the hostile territory, p. 27.--Proprietary incapacities of children, p. 27 _sq._--Of women, pp. 28-31.--Of slaves, pp. 31-33.--The theory that nobody but the chief or king has proprietary rights, p. 33. CHAPTER XXIX THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY (_concluded_) Acquisition of property by occupation, pp. 35-39.--By keeping possession of a thing, pp. 39-41.--By labour, pp. 41-43.--By a transfer of property by its owner, p. 43.--By inheritance, pp. 44-49.--By the fact that ownership in a thing directly follows from ownership in another thing, p. 49 _sq._--By the custom which prescribes community of goods, p. 50.--The origin of proprietary rights and of the various modes of acquisition, pp. 51-57. --Explanation of the incapacity of children, wives, and slaves to acquire property, p. 57.--Why the moral judgments vary with regard to different acts of theft, pp. 57-59.--Theft {viii} supposed to be avenged by supernatural powers, pp. 59-69.--The removing of landmarks regarded as sacrilegious, p. 60 _sq._ --Cursing as a method of punishing thieves or compelling them to restore what they have stolen, p. 62 _sq._--Cursing as a means of preventing theft, pp. 63-67.--Spirits or gods invoked in curses referring to theft, p. 66 _sq._--Why gods take notice of offences against property, pp. 67-69.--The belief that thieves will be punished after death, p. 69.--The opposition against the established principles of ownership, pp. 69-71. CHAPTER XXX THE REGARD FOR TRUTH AND GOOD FAITH Definition of lying, p. 72.--Of good faith, _ibid._--The regard for truth and good faith among uncivilised races, pp. 72-88. --Foreigners visiting a savage tribe apt to underrate its veracity, pp. 86-88.--The regard for truth varies according as the person concerned is a foreigner or a tribesman, p. 87 _sq._--The regard for truth and good faith among the Chinese, p. 88 _sq._--Among the Japanese, Burmese, and Siamese, p. 89. --Among the Hindus, pp. 89-92.--In Buddhism, p. 92.--Among the ancient Persians, p. 93 _sq._--Among Muhammedan peoples, p. 94. --In ancient Greece, pp. 94-96.--In ancient Rome, p. 96.--Among the ancient Scandinavians, p. 96 _sq._--Among the ancient Irish, p. 97.--Among the ancient Hebrews, pp. 97-99.--In Christianity, pp. 99-101.--In the code of Chivalry, p. 101 _sq._--In the Middle Ages and later, p. 102 _sq._--In modern Europe, pp. 103-106.--The views of philosophers, _ibid._--Deceit in the relations between different states, in peace and war, pp. 106-108. CHAPTER XXXI THE REGARD FOR TRUTH AND GOOD FAITH (_concluded_) Explanation of the moral ideas concerning truthfulness and good faith, pp. 109-131.--When detected a deception implies a conflict between two irreconcilable ideas, which causes pain, p. 109.--Men like to know the truth, p. 109 _sq._--The importance of knowing the truth, p. 110.--Deception humiliating, _ibid._--A lie or breach of faith held more condemnable in proportion to the magnitude of the harm caused by it, _ibid._--The importance of truthfulness and fidelity even in apparently trifling cases, p. 110 _sq._--Deceit held permissible or obligatory when promoting the true interest of the person subject to it, p. 111.--The moral valuation of an act of falsehood influenced by its motive, p. 111 _sq._--The opinion that no motive can justify an act of falsehood, p. 112.--Why falsehood is held permissible, or praiseworthy, or obligatory, when directed against a stranger, _ibid._--Deceit condemned as cowardly, p. 113.--A clever lie admired or approved of, p. 114.--The duties of sincerity and good faith to some extent founded on prudential considerations, pp. 114-124.--Lying attended with supernatural danger, _ibid._--A mystic efficacy ascribed to the untrue word, pp. 116-118.--The efficacy of oaths and the methods of charging them with supernatural energy, pp. 118-122.--Oaths containing appeals to supernatural beings, pp. 120-122.--By being frequently appealed to in oaths a god may come to be looked upon as a guardian of veracity and good faith, p. 123.--The influence of oath-taking upon veracity, p. 123 _sq._--The influence of education upon the regard for truth, p. 124.--The influence {ix} of habit upon the regard for truth, p. 125.--Natural to speak the truth, p. 125 _sq._--Intercourse with strangers destructive to savage veracity, pp. 126-129.--Social incoherence apt to lead to deceitful habits, p. 129.--Social differentiation a cause of deception, p. 129 _sq._--Oppression an inducement to falsehood, p. 130 _sq._--The duty of informing other persons of the truth, p. 131.--The regard for knowledge, pp. 131-136. CHAPTER XXXII THE RESPECT FOR OTHER MEN'S HONOUR AND SELF-REGARDING PRIDE--POLITENESS Definition of "honour," p. 137.--The feeling of self-regarding pride in animals, p. 137 _sq._--In savages, pp. 138-140.--The moral disapproval of insults, pp. 140-142.--The condemnation of an insult influenced by the _status_ of, or the relations between, the parties concerned, p. 142 _sq._--Pride disapproved of and humility praised as a virtue or enjoined as a duty, p. 144 _sq._--Humility an object of censure, p. 145 _sq._--Deviation from what is usual arouses a suspicion of arrogance, p. 146. --Politeness a duty rather than a virtue, _ibid._--Many savages conspicuous for their civility, p. 146 _sq._--Politeness a characteristic of all the great nations of the East, p. 147 _sq._--The courtesies of Chivalry, p. 148.--The demands of politeness refer to all sorts of social intercourse and vary indefinitely in detail, p. 148 _sq._--Salutations, pp. 149-151. --The rule of politeness most exacting in relation to superiors, p. 151 _sq._--Politeness shown by men to women, p. 152. --Politeness shown to strangers, _ibid._ CHAPTER XXXIII REGARD FOR OTHER PERSONS' HAPPINESS IN GENERAL--GRATITUDE--PATRIOTISM AND COSMOPOLITANISM The regard for other persons' happiness in general, p. 153 _sq._--The moral ideas concerning conduct which affects other persons' welfare influenced by the relationship between the parties, pp. 154-166.--The feeling of gratitude said to be lacking in many uncivilised races, pp. 155-157.--Criticism of statements to this effect, pp. 157-161.--Savages described as grateful for benefits bestowed on them, pp. 161-165.--Gratitude represented as an object of praise or its absence as an object of disapproval, p. 165 _sq._--Why ungratefulness is disapproved of, p. 166.--The patriotic sentiment defined, p. 167.--Though hardly to be found among the lower savages, it seems to be far from unknown among uncultured peoples of a higher type, p. 167 _sq._--Many of the elements out of which patriotism proper has grown clearly distinguishable among savages, even the lowest, pp. 168-172.--National conceit, pp. 170-174.--The relation between the national feeling and the religious feeling, p. 174 _sq._--The patriotism of ancient Greece and Rome, p. 175 _sq._--The moral valuation of patriotism, p. 176.--Duties to mankind at large, pp. 176-179.--The ideal of patriotism rejected by Greek and Roman philosophers, p. 177 _sq._--By Christianity, p. 178 _sq._--The lack of patriotism and national feeling during the Middle Ages, pp. 179-181.--The development of the national feeling in England, p. 181 _sq._--In France, p. 182.--The cosmopolitanism of the eighteenth century, p. 182 _sq._--European patriotism after the French revolution, p. 183 _sq._--The theory cf nationalism, p. 184.--The cosmopolitan spirit, p. 184 _sq._ {x} CHAPTER XXXIV THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE ALTRUISTIC SENTIMENT Maternal affection, pp. 186-189.--Prof. Espinas's theory, p. 186 _sq._--Prof. Bain's theory, p. 187 _sq._--Mr. Spencer's theory, p. 188.--Distinction between maternal love and the mere love of the helpless, p. 188 _sq._--The paternal instinct, p. 189 _sq._--Conjugal attachment, pp. 190-192.--The duration of conjugal attachment, p. 192 _sq._--The duration of parental affection, p. 193.--Filial affection, p. 194.--Man originally, as it seems, not a gregarious animal, p. 195 _sq._--How he became gregarious, p. 196 _sq._--The gregarious instinct, p. 197. --Social affection, p. 197 _sq._--The evolution of social aggregates influenced by economic conditions, pp. 198-201.--The social aggregates of savages who know neither cattle-rearing nor agriculture, pp. 198-200.--Of pastoral peoples, p. 201.--Of peoples subsisting on agriculture, _ibid._--Social units based on marriage or a common descent, p. 201 _sq._--The social force in kinship, pp. 202-204.--Mr. Hartland's theory, pp. 204-206.--The blood-covenant, pp. 206-209.--The social influence of a common cult among savages, pp. 209-213.--The "four generations" of the Chinese, p. 213.--Traces of a clan organisation in China, p. 213 _sq._--The joint family among so-called Aryan peoples, pp. 214-216.--Village communities, clans, phratries, and tribes among these peoples, pp. 216-220.--The prevalence of the paternal system of descent among the peoples of archaic culture, p. 220.--Associations of tribes among uncivilised races, p. 220 _sq._--Civilisation only thrives in states, p. 221 _sq._--The origin of states p. 222.--The influence of the State upon the smaller units of which it is composed, p. 222 _sq._--The State and the notion of a common descent, pp. 223-225.--The archaic State not only a political but a religious community, p. 225 _sq._--The national importance of a common religion, p. 226.--The influence of social development upon the altruistic sentiment, p. 226 _sq._--The altruistic sentiment has not necessarily reference only to individuals belonging to the same social unit, p. 227 _sq._--The expansion of altruism in mankind, p. 228. CHAPTER XXXV SUICIDE Suicide and civilisation, p. 229.--Suicide said to be unknown among several uncivilised races, p. 229 _sq._--The prevalence of suicide among savages and barbarians, pp. 230-232.--The causes of suicide among savages, pp 232-235.--The moral valuation of suicide among savages, pp. 235-241.--The fate of self-murderers after death, pp. 235-239.--The treatment of the bodies of suicides among uncivilised races, pp. 238-240.--The opinions as to suicide in China, pp. 241-243.--In Japan, p. 243 _sq._--Among the Hindus, pp. 244-246.--Among Buddhists, p. 246.--Among the Hebrews, p. 246 _sq._--Among Muhammedans, p. 247.--In ancient Greece, pp. 247-249.--Among classical philosophers, pp. 248-250.--In ancient Rome, p. 250 _sq._--Among the Christians, pp. 251-254.--Why suicide was condemned by the Church, pp. 252-254.--The secular legislation influenced by the doctrine of the Church, p. 254.--The treatment of suicides' bodies in Europe, pp. 254-257.--More humane feelings towards suicides in the Middle Ages, p. 257 _sq._--Attacks upon the views of the Church and upon the laws of the State concerning suicide, pp. 258-260.--Modern philosophers' arguments against suicide, {xi} p. 260 _sq._--The legislation on the subject changed, p. 261.--Explanation of the moral ideas concerning suicide, pp. 261-263.--Criticism of Prof. Durkheim's opinion as to the moral valuation of suicide in the future, p. 263 _sq._ CHAPTER XXXVI SELF-REGARDING DUTIES AND VIRTUES--INDUSTRY--REST General statements referring to the nature and origin of self-regarding duties and virtues, pp. 265-268.--Man naturally inclined to idleness, pp. 268-271.--Among savages either necessity or compulsion almost the sole inducement to industry, _ibid._--Savages who enjoin work as a duty or regard industry as a virtue, p. 271 _sq._--Industrial activity looked down upon as disreputable for a free man, p. 272 _sq._--Contempt for trade, p. 274. Progress in civilisation implies an increase of industry and leads to condemnation of idleness, _ibid._--Idleness prohibited by law in ancient Peru p. 274 _sq._--Industry enjoined in ancient Persia, p. 275 _sq._--In ancient Egypt, p. 276.--In ancient Greece, p. 276 _sq._--Greek views on agriculture, p. 277.--On trade and handicrafts, p. 278 _sq._--Roman views on labour, p. 279 _sq._--The Christian doctrine on the subject, pp. 280-282. --Not applicable to laymen, p. 282.--Modern views on labour, p. 282 _sq._--Rest regarded as a duty, p. 283.--Work suspended after a death, p. 283 _sq._--On certain other occasions, especially in connection with changes in the moon, pp. 284-286. --Tabooed days among the peoples of Semitic stock, pp. 286-288. --The Jewish Sabbath, p. 286 _sq._--The seventh day among the Assyrians and Babylonians, p. 287 _sq._--The Christian Sunday, p. 288 _sq._ CHAPTER XXXVII RESTRICTIONS IN DIET The gluttony of savages and their views on it, p. 290 _sq._--At higher stages of culture intemperance often subject to censure, p. 291.--Views on pleasures of the table, p. 291 _sq._--Fasting as a means of having supernatural converse or acquiring supernatural powers, p. 292 _sq._--Abstinence from food before or in connection with the performance of a magical or religious ceremony, pp. 293-298.--Fasting prevents pollution, pp. 294-296. --Sacrificial victims should be clean, and may therefore have to fast, p. 295 _sq._--Fasting before the performance of a sacrifice may be due to the idea that it is dangerous or improper for the worshipper to partake of food before the god has had his share, pp 296-298.--Fasting after a death, pp. 298-308.--Observed only in the daytime, p. 299 _sq._--Abstinence from certain victuals only, pp. 300-302.--Various attempts to explain the custom of fasting after a death, p. 302 _sq._--Mourners fast for fear of being polluted by the food, pp. 303-306.--Or because they, by eating a piece of food, might pollute all victuals belonging to the same species, p. 306 _sq._--Or because they are supposed to be in a delicate condition imposing upon them restrictions in their diet, p. 307 _sq._--Or because grief is accompanied by a loss of appetite, p. 308.--The Lent fast, p. 308 _sq._--Fasts connected with astronomical changes, pp. 309-315. --Among the Jews, pp. 310-312.--Among the Harranians and Manichæans, p. 312 _sq._--The Muhammedan {xii} fast of Rama[d.]ân, pp. 313-315.--Fasting as a form of penance, pp. 315-318.--As a survival of an expiatory sacrifice, pp. 316-318. --Fasting and almsgiving, _ibid._--Fasting "the beginning of chastity," p. 318. CHAPTER XXXVIII RESTRICTIONS IN DIET (_concluded_) Certain kinds of food forbidden to certain classes of persons, pp. 319-324.--To young persons, p. 319 _sq._--To women, p. 320 _sq._--To men, p. 321 _sq._--To priests or magicians, p. 322. --Restrictions in diet connected with totemism, p. 323 _sq._ --Abstinence from animals which excite disgust by their appearance, p. 324 _sq._--From reptiles, p. 324.--From fish, p. 324 _sq._--From fowl, p. 325.--From eggs, p. 325 _sq._--From milk, _ibid._--From animals which are regarded with disgust on account of their filthy habits or the nasty food on which they live, pp. 326-328.--From pork, _ibid._--From foreign animals, p. 327.--From animals which are supposed to be metamorphosed ancestors or which resemble men, p. 328 _sq._--From animals which excite sympathy, pp. 329-331.--From beef, p. 330 _sq._--Restrictions in diet due to the disinclination to kill certain animals for food or, generally, to reduce the supply of a certain kind of victuals, pp. 330-332.--Abstinence from domestic animals which are regarded as sacred, p. 331 _sq._--From food which is believed to injure him who partakes of it, pp. 332-334.--The sources to which the general avoidance of certain kinds of food may be traced, p. 334 _sq._--The moral disapproval of eating certain kinds of food, p. 335. The moral prohibition sanctioned by religion, _ibid._--Vegetarianism, pp. 335-338.--Among many peoples drunkenness so common that it can hardly be looked upon as a vice, pp. 338-341.--Sobriety or total abstinence from intoxicating liquors insisted upon by Eastern religions, p. 341 _sq._--Explanation of the moral ideas concerning drunkenness and the use of alcoholic drink, pp. 342-345.--Wine or spirituous liquor inspires mysterious fear, p. 344 _sq._--The Muhammedan prohibition of wine, p. 345. CHAPTER XXXIX CLEANLINESS AND UNCLEANLINESS--ASCETICISM IN GENERAL Man naturally feeling some aversion to filth, p. 346.--Savages who are praised for their cleanliness, pp. 346-348.--Savages who are clean in certain respects but dirty in others, p. 348. --Savages who are described as generally filthy in their habits, p. 348 _sq._--Various circumstances which may account for the prevalence of cleanly or dirty habits among a certain people, pp. 349-351.--The moral valuation of cleanliness, p. 351 _sq._--Cleanliness practised and enjoined from religious or superstitious motives, pp. 352-354.--In other instances religious or superstitious beliefs have led to uncleanliness, pp. 354-356. --Uncleanliness as a form of asceticism, p. 355 _sq._--Ascetic practices, p. 356 _sq._--The idea underlying religious asceticism derived from several different sources, pp. 357-363.--Certain ascetic practices originally performed for another purpose, p. 358 _sq._--An ascetic practice may be the survival of an earlier sacrifice, p. 359.--Ascetic practices due to the idea of expiation, pp. 359-361.--Self-mortification intended to excite divine compassion, p. 361.--Suffering voluntarily endured with a view to preventing the commission of sin, pp. 361-363.--The gratification of earthly desires deemed sinful or disapproved of, _ibid._ {xiii} CHAPTER XL MARRIAGE Definition of the term "marriage," p. 364.--The horror of incest well-nigh universal in the human race, pp. 364-366.--The prohibited degrees as a rule more numerous among peoples unaffected by modern civilisation than in more advanced communities, p. 366.--The violation of the prohibitory rules regarded by savages as a most heinous crime, p. 366 _sq._--The horror of incest among nations that have passed beyond savagery and barbarism, p. 367 _sq._--Attempt to explain the prohibition of marriage between near kin, pp. 368-371.--Refutation of various objections raised against the author's theory, pp. 371-378.-- Incestuous unions stigmatised by religion, p. 375 _sq._--Endogamous rules of various kinds, pp. 378-382.--Marriage by capture, p. 382. --Marriage by purchase, pp. 382-384.--The disappearance of marriage by purchase, p. 384 _sq._--The morning gift, p. 385.--The marriage portion, p. 385 _sq._--The form of marriage influenced by the numerical proportion between the sexes, p. 387 _sq._--Polyandry, p. 387.--Group marriage of the Toda type, _ibid._--The causes of polygyny, pp. 387-389.--Of monogamy, p. 389. Polygyny less prevalent at the lowest stages of civilisation than at somewhat higher stages, pp. 389-391.--Civilisation in its higher forms leads to monogamy, p. 391.--The moral valuation of the various forms of marriage, p. 392.--The assumed prevalence of group marriage in Australia, pp. 392-396.--The duration of marriage and the laws of divorce, pp. 396-398. CHAPTER XLI CELIBACY Marriage considered indispensable among savage and barbarous races of men, p. 399.--Celibacy a great exception and marriage regarded as a duty among peoples of archaic culture, pp. 399-403. --Why celibacy is disapproved of, p. 403 _sq._--Modern views on celibacy, p. 404 _sq._--Celibacy of persons whose function it is to perform religious or magical rites, pp. 405-412.--Marriage looked down upon by the Essenes, p. 410.--By the Christians, pp. 410-412.--Religious celibacy due to the idea that the priestess is married to the god whom she is serving, pp. 412-414.--Goddesses jealous of the chastity of their priests, p. 414.--Religious celibacy connected with the idea that sexual intercourse is defiling, pp. 414-420.--Holiness easily destroyed by pollution, pp. 417-419.--Causes of religious celibacy among the Christians, p. 420 _sq._--Religious celibacy enjoined or commended as a means of self-mortification, p. 421. CHAPTER XLII FREE LOVE--ADULTERY Uncivilised peoples among whom both sexes enjoy perfect freedom previous to marriage, pp. 422-424.--Among whom unchastity before marriage is looked upon as a disgrace or a crime for a woman, p. 424.--The wantonness of savages in several cases due to foreign influence, _ibid._--In many tribes the free intercourse which prevails between unmarried people not of a promiscuous nature, p. 424 _sq._--Uncivilised peoples among {xiv} whom the man who seduces a girl is subject to punishment or censure, pp. 425-427. --Moral opinions as to sexual intercourse between unmarried people among the Chinese, p. 427.--Among the ancient Hebrews, p. 427 _sq._ --Among Muhammedan peoples, p. 428.--Among the Hindus, _ibid._--In Zoroastrianism, _ibid._--Among the ancient Teutons, p. 429.--In ancient Greece and Rome, pp. 429-431.--In Christianity, p. 431 _sq._ --During the Middle Ages, p. 432 _sq._--After the Reformation, p. 433.--In present Europe, p. 433 _sq._--Explanation of the moral ideas concerning sexual intercourse between unmarried people, pp. 434-443.--Prostitution, pp. 441-443.--Religious prostitution, connected with religious celibacy, p. 443 _sq._--Of the Babylonian type, pp. 444-446.--Moral opinions as to the seduction of a married woman, pp. 447-450.--As to unfaithfulness in a wife, p. 450 _sq._ --As to the remarriages of widows, _ibid._--As to unfaithfulness in a husband, pp. 451-455. CHAPTER XLIII HOMOSEXUAL LOVE Homosexual practices among the lower animals, p. 456.--Among various races of men, pp. 456-464.--Between women, p. 464 _sq._--The causes of homosexual practices, pp. 465-471.--Congenital sexual inversion, p. 465 _sq._--Absence of the other sex or lack of accessible women, p. 466 _sq._--Acquired inversion, pp. 467-470.--Homosexuality in ancient Greece partly due to the methods of training the youth, p. 469 _sq._--Partly due to the great gulf which mentally separated the sexes, p. 470 _sq._--Causes of pederasty in China and Morocco, p. 471.--Moral ideas concerning homosexual practices, pp. 471-489.--Among uncivilised peoples, pp. 471-475.--Among the ancient Peruvians, p. 473 _sq._--Among the ancient Mexicans, Mayas, and Chibchas, p. 474.--Among Muhammedans, p. 475 _sq._--Among the Hindus, p. 476.--In China, p. 476 _sq._--In Japan, p. 477.--Among the ancient Scandinavians, p. 477 _sq._--In ancient Greece, p. 478 _sq._--In Zoroastrianism, p. 479 _sq._--Among the ancient Hebrews, p. 480.--In early Christianity, p. 480 _sq._--In Pagan Rome, _ibid._--In Christian Rome, p. 481.--European legislation regarding homosexual practices during the Middle Ages and later, p. 481 _sq._--Modern legislation on the subject, p. 482 _sq._--Moral ideas concerning it in present Europe, p. 483.--Why homosexual practices are frequently subject to censure, p. 483 _sq._--Criticism of Dr. Havelock Ellis's suggestion as to the popular attitude towards homosexuality, pp. 484-486.--The excessive sinfulness attached to homosexual practices by Zoroastrianism, Hebrewism, and Christianity, due to the fact that such practices were intimately associated with unbelief, idolatry, or heresy, pp. 486-489. CHAPTER XLIV REGARD FOR THE LOWER ANIMALS Animals treated with deference for superstitious reasons, pp. 490-493.--Butchers regarded as unclean, p. 493.--Many peoples averse from killing their cattle from economic motives, p. 493 _sq._--Domestic animals treated kindly by savages out of sympathy, pp. 494-496.--Savages who are said to be lacking in sympathy for the brute creation, {xv} p. 496.--Moral valuation of men's conduct towards the lower animals among savages, p. 496 _sq._--In Brahmanism, p. 497.--In Buddhism, pp. 497, 498, 500.--In Jainism, p. 498 _sq._--In Taouism, p. 499.--In China, p. 499 _sq._--In Japan, p. 500.--In Zoroastrianism, p. 501 _sq._ --In Muhammedanism, p. 502 _sq._--In ancient Greece and Rome, pp. 503-505.--In Hebrewism, p. 505 _sq._--In Christianity, pp. 506-508.--The views of modern philosophers, p. 508.--Of legislators, p. 508 _sq._--Indifference to animal suffering a characteristic of public opinion in European countries up to quite modern times, p. 509 _sq._--Laws against cruelty to animals, p. 510.--Humane feelings towards animals in Europe, pp. 510-512.--The crusade against vivisection, pp. 512-514.--Explanation of the increasing sympathy with animal suffering in Europe, p. 512 _sq._--The influence of human thoughtlessness upon the treatment of the lower animals and upon the moral ideas relating to it, pp. 512-514. CHAPTER XLV REGARD FOR THE DEAD The belief in a future life, p. 515 _sq._--Notions as regards the disembodied soul, p. 516.--The dead considered to have rights very similar to those they had whilst alive, pp. 516-520.--The soul must not be killed or injured, p. 516 _sq._--Its living friends must positively contribute to its comfort and subsistence, p. 517 _sq._--The right of ownership does not cease with death, p. 518 _sq._--Robbery or violation committed at a tomb severely condemned, _ibid._--Respect must be shown for the honour and self-regarding pride of the dead, p. 519.--The dead demand obedience, p. 519 _sq._--The sacredness attached to a will, p. 519.--The rigidity of ancestral custom, p. 519 _sq._--Duties to the dead that arise from the fact of death itself, pp. 520-524.--The funeral, the rites connected with it, and the mourning customs, largely regarded as duties to the dead, _ibid._--The duties to the dead influenced by the relationship between the parties, p. 524 _sq._--By the age and sex of the departed, pp. 525-527.--By class distinctions, p. 527.--By moral distinctions, p. 527 _sq._--The causes from which the duties to the dead have sprung, pp 528-549.--These duties partly based on sympathetic resentment, p. 528.--The dead regarded as guardians of their descendants, p. 529 _sq._--But the ancestral guardian spirit does not bestow his favours for nothing, p. 530 _sq._--The dead more commonly regarded as enemies than friends, pp. 531-534. --Explanation of the belief in the irritable or malevolent character of the dead, p. 534 _sq._--The fear of death and the fear of the dead, pp. 535-538.--The conduct of the survivors influenced by their beliefs regarding the character, activity, and polluting influence of the dead, pp. 538-546.--The origin of funeral and mourning customs, pp. 541-547.--Why practices connected with death which originally sprang from self-regarding motives have come to be enjoined as duties, p. 547 _sq._--Why the duties to the dead are rarely extended to strangers, p. 548 _sq._--Explanation of the differences in the treatment of the dead which depend upon age, sex, social position, and moral distinctions, p. 549.--The duties to the departed become less stringent as time goes on, p. 549 _sq._--The duties to the dead affected by progress in intellectual culture, pp. 550-552.--The funeral sacrifice continued as a mark of respect or affection, p. 550.--Offerings made to the dead become alms given to the poor, pp. 550-552. {xvi} CHAPTER XLVI CANNIBALISM The prevalence of cannibalism, p. 553.--Various forms of it, p. 554.--Cannibalism due to scarcity or lack of animal food, p. 555.--To _gourmandise_ pp. 555-557.--To revenge, pp. 557-559. --The practice of eating criminals, p. 558 _sq._--Cannibalism a method of making a dangerous individual harmless after death, p. 559 _sq._--Due to the idea that the cannibal, by eating the supposed seat of a certain quality in a person, incorporates it with his own system, pp. 560-562.--Cannibalism in connection with human sacrifice, p. 562 _sq._--The eating of man-gods, p. 563 _sq._--Other instances in which a supernatural or medicinal effect is ascribed to human flesh or blood, pp. 564-566.--Cannibalism as a covenant rite, p. 566 _sq._--Special reasons given for the practice of eating relatives or friends, pp. 567-569.--The cannibalism of modern savages represented as the survival of an ancient practice which was once universal in the human race, p. 569 _sq._--Criticism of this theory pp. 570-580.--Savages who feel the greatest dislike of cannibalism, p. 570 _sq._--Cannibals often anxious to deny that they are addicted to this practice, p. 572.--The rapid extinction of it among certain savages p. 572 _sq._--Even among peoples very notorious for cannibalism there are individuals who abhor it, p. 573.--The aversion to cannibalism may be due to sympathy for the dead, p. 574.--In the first instance it is probably an instinctive feeling akin to those feelings which regulate the diet of the various animal species, _ibid._--The eating of human flesh regarded with superstitious dread, pp. 574-576.--The feeling of reluctance may be overcome by other motives and may be succeeded by a taste for human flesh, p. 577 _sq._--Early man probably not addicted to cannibalism, pp. 578-580.--Cannibalism much less prevalent among the lowest savages than among races somewhat more advanced in culture, p. 578 _sq._--Among some savages cannibalism known to be of modern origin or to have spread in recent times, p. 579 _sq._--The moral valuation of cannibalism, p. 580 _sq._ CHAPTER XLVII THE BELIEF IN SUPERNATURAL BEINGS Distinction between "natural" and "supernatural" phenomena, p. 582 _sq._--Supernatural mechanical energy, p. 583 _sq._--Supernatural qualities attributed to the mental constitution of animate beings, especially to their will, p. 584.--The difference between religion and magic, _ibid._--The meaning of the word _religio_, pp. 584-586.--That mystery is the essential characteristic of supernatural beings is testified by language, p. 586 _sq._--This testimony corroborated by facts referring to the nature of such objects or individuals as are most commonly worshipped, pp. 587-593.--Startling events ascribed to the activity of invisible supernatural agents, p. 593 _sq._--The origin of animism, p. 594 _sq._--A mind presupposes a body, p. 595 _sq._--The animist who endows an inanimate object with a soul regards the visible thing itself as its body, p. 596 _sq._--The origin of anthropomorphism, p. 597 _sq._--The difference between men and gods, p. 599. --Materiality at last considered a quality not becoming to a god, pp. 599-601. {xvii} CHAPTER XLVIII DUTIES TO GODS Definition of the term "god," p. 602.--Gods have the rights to life and bodily integrity, pp. 602-604.--Not necessarily considered immortal, p. 602 _sq._--The killing of totemic animals, p. 603 _sq._--Divine animals killed as a religious or magical ceremony, pp. 604-606.--The killing of man-gods or divine kings, pp. 606-610.--The right to bodily integrity granted to gods occasionally suspended, p. 610.--Supernatural beings believed to be subject to human needs, p. 610 _sq._--To require offerings, p. 611 _sq._--Sacrificial gifts offered to supernatural beings with a view to averting evils, pp. 612-614. --With a view to securing positive benefits, pp. 614-616. --Thank-offerings, p. 615 _sq._--Sacrificial victims intended to serve as substitutes for other individuals, whose lives are in danger, pp. 616-618.--Occasionally regarded as messengers, p. 618.--Sacrifices offered for the purpose of transferring curses, pp. 618-624.--The covenant sacrifice, pp. 622-624.--The sacrificial victim or offered article a vehicle for transferring benign virtue to him who offered it or to other persons, p. 624 _sq._--Sacrifice becomes a symbol of humility and reverence, p. 625 _sq._--Sacrifice as a duty, p. 626.--Supernatural beings possess property, and this must not be interfered with, p. 626 _sq._--Sacred objects must not be appropriated for ordinary purposes, p. 627 _sq._--The right of sanctuary, pp. 628-638.--Its prevalence, pp. 628-634.--Explanation of this right, pp. 634-638. CHAPTER XLIX DUTIES TO GODS (_concluded_) Supernatural beings sensitive to insults and disrespect, p. 639 _sq._--Irreverence to gods punished by men, _ibid._--The names of supernatural beings tabooed, pp. 640-643.--Explanation of these taboos, p. 642 _sq._--Atheism, p. 643 _sq._--Unbelief, pp. 644-646.--Heresy, p. 646 _sq._--Polytheism by nature tolerant, pp. 647-649.--The difference in toleration between monotheistic and polytheistic religions shows itself in their different attitudes towards witchcraft, pp. 649-652.--The highest stage of religion free from intolerance, p. 652 _sq._--Prayer a tribute to the self-regarding pride of the god to whom it is addressed, pp. 653-655.--Prayers connected with offerings, p. 655 _sq._--Magic efficacy ascribed to prayer, pp. 656-659.--Gods demand obedience, p. 659.--The influence of this demand upon the history of morals, p. 659 _sq._--Explanation of the obligatory character attached to men's conduct towards their gods, pp. 660-662. CHAPTER L GODS AS GUARDIANS OF MORALITY The supernatural beings of savage belief frequently described as utterly indifferent to all questions of worldly morality, pp. 663-665.--The gods of many savages mostly intent on doing harm to mankind, pp. 665-667.--Adoration of supernatural beings which are considered at least occasionally beneficent also very prevalent among uncivilised peoples, {xviii} pp. 667-669.--Their benevolence, however, does not prove that they take an active interest in morality at large, p. 669.--Instances in which savage gods are supposed to punish the transgression of rules relating to worldly morality, pp. 669-687.--Savages represented as believing in the existence of a supreme being who is a moral law-giver or judge, pp. 670-687.--The prevalence of such a belief in Australia, pp. 670-675.--In Polynesia and Melanesia, p. 675.--In the Malay Archipelago, p. 675 _sq._--In the Andaman Islands, p. 676.--Among the Karens of Burma, p. 677.--In India, p. 677 _sq._--Among the Ainu of Japan, p. 678.--Among the Samoyedes, _ibid._--Among the Greenlanders, _ibid._--Among the North American Indians, pp. 679-681.--Among the South American Indians, p. 681 _sq._--In Africa, pp. 682-685.--Explanation of this belief, pp. 685-687.--The supreme beings of savages invoked in curses or oaths, p. 686 _sq._--The oath and ordeal do not involve a belief in the gods as vindicators of truth and justice, pp. 687-690.--The ordeal essentially a magical ceremony, _ibid._--Ordeals which have a different origin, p. 690.--The belief in a moral retribution after death among savages, pp. 690-695.--The sources to which it may be traced, pp. 691-695. --The influence of religion upon the moral consciousness of savages, p. 695 _sq._ CHAPTER LI GODS AS GUARDIANS OF MORALITY (_continued_) The attitude of religion towards matters of worldly morality in ancient Mexico, p. 697 _sq._--In ancient Peru, p. 698.--In ancient Egypt, pp. 698-701.--In ancient Chaldea, pp. 701-704.--In Zoroastrianism, pp. 704-706.--Among the Vedic people, pp. 706-709.--In post-Vedic times in India, pp. 709-711.--In Buddhism, p. 711 _sq._--In China, p. 712 _sq._--In ancient Greece, pp. 713-716.--In ancient Rome, p. 716 _sq._--Among the Hebrews, p. 717 _sq._--Christian doctrines of salvation and the future life, pp. 718-725.--The attitude of Muhammedanism towards matters of worldly morality and its doctrine of the future life, pp. 725-727. CHAPTER LII GODS AS GUARDIANS OF MORALITY (_concluded_) Explanation of the malevolence of savage gods, p. 728 _sq._--Of the growing tendency to attribute more amiable qualities to the gods, pp. 729-731.--Men selecting their gods, p. 729 _sq._--The good qualities of gods magnified by their worshippers, p. 730 _sq._--How various departments of social morality have come to be placed under the supervision of gods, p. 731 _sq._--How the guardianship of gods has been extended to the whole sphere of justice, p. 732.--How gods have become guardians of morality at large, p. 733 _sq._--The influence of the religious sanction of morality, p. 734 _sq._--Religious devotion frequently accompanied by great laxity of morals, pp. 735-737.--Greater importance attached to ceremonies or the niceties of belief than to good behaviour towards fellow men, p. 736 _sq._--The religious sanction of moral rules often leads to an external observance of these rules from purely selfish motives, p. 737.--The moral influence of Christianity, _ibid._ {xix} CHAPTER LIII CONCLUSION Recapitulation of the theory of the moral consciousness set forth in vol. I., pp. 738-741.--This theory supported by the fact that not only moral emotions but non-moral retributive emotions are felt with reference to phenomena exactly similar in their general nature to those on which moral judgments are passed, p. 741.--As also by the circumstance that the very acts, forbearances, and omissions which are condemned as wrong are also apt to call forth anger and revenge, and that the acts and forbearances which are praised as morally good are apt to call forth gratitude, p. 741 _sq._--The variations of the moral ideas partly due to different external conditions, p. 742.--But chiefly to psychical causes, pp. 742-746.--The duties to neighbours have gradually become more expansive owing to the expansion of the altruistic sentiment, p. 743 _sq._--The influence of reflection upon moral judgments has been increasing, p. 744 _sq._--The influence of sentimental antipathies and likings has been decreasing, _ibid._--The influence which the belief in supernatural forces or beings or in a future state has exercised upon the moral ideas of mankind, p. 745 _sq._--Remarks as to the future development of the moral ideas, p. 746. ADDITIONAL NOTES . . . pp. 747-754 AUTHORITIES QUOTED . . pp. 755-835 SUBJECT INDEX . . . . pp. 837-865 THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE MORAL IDEAS CHAPTER XXVIII THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY THE right of property implies that a certain person or certain persons are recognised as having a right to the exclusive disposal of a certain thing. The owner is not necessarily allowed to do with his property whatever he likes; but whether absolute or limited, his right to disposal is not shared by anybody else, save under very exceptional circumstances, as in the case of "compulsion by necessity."[1] Property in a thing thus means not only that the owner of it is allowed, at least within certain limits, to use or deal with it at his discretion, but also that other persons are forbidden to prevent him from using or dealing with it in any manner he is entitled to. [Footnote 1: _Supra_, i. 285 _sqq._] The most common offence against property is illicit appropriation of other persons' belongings. Not the mere fact that individuals are in actual possession of certain objects, but the public disapproval of acts by which they are deprived of such possession, shows that they have proprietary rights over those objects. Hence the universal condemnation of what we call theft or robbery proves that the right of property exists among all races of men known to us. {2} Travellers often accuse savages of thievishness.[2] But then their judgments are commonly based upon the treatment to which they have been subject themselves, and from this no conclusions must be drawn as regards intra-tribal morality. Nor can races who have had much to do with foreigners be taken as fair representatives of savage honesty, as such contact has proved the origin of thievish propensities.[3] In the majority of cases uncivilised peoples seem to respect proprietary rights within their own communities, and not infrequently even in their dealings {3} with strangers. Many of them are expressly said to condemn or abhor theft, at any rate when committed among themselves. And that all of them disapprove of it may be inferred from the universal custom of subjecting a detected thief to punishment or revenge, or, at the very least, of compelling him to restore the stolen property to its owner. [Footnote 2: Beni, 'Notizie sopra gli indigeni di Mexico,' in _Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia_, xii. 15 (Apaches). Burton, _City of the Saints_, p. 125 (Dacotahs and Prairie Indians). Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 127 (Yuki). Macfie, _Vancouver Island and British Columbia_, p. 468. Heriot, _Travels through the Canadas_, p. 22 (Newfoundland Eskimo). Coxe, _Russian Discoveries between Asia and America_, p. 300 (Kinaighi). Georgi, _Russia_, iv. 22 (Kalmucks), 133 (Buriats). Scott Robertson, _Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 193 _sq._ Modigliani, _Viaggio a Nías_, p. 468. Powell, _Wanderings in a Wild Country_, p. 23 (South Sea Islanders). Romilly, _From my Verandah in New Guinea_, p. 50; Comrie, 'Anthropological Notes on New Guinea,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ vi. 109 _sq._ de Labillardière, _Voyage in Search of La Pérouse_, i. 275; Moseley, _Notes by a Naturalist on the "Challenger,"_ p. 391 (Admiralty Islanders). Brenchley, _Jottings during the Cruise of H.M.S. Curaçoa_, p. 58 (natives of Tutuila). Lisiansky, _Voyage round the World_, p. 88 _sq._ (Nukahivans). Williams, _Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea Islands_, p. 126 (natives of Rarotonga). Cooke, _Journal of a Voyage round the World_, p. 40; Montgomery, _Journal of Voyages and Travels by Tyerman and Bennet_, ii. 11 (Society Islanders). Barrington, _History of New South Wales_, p. 22; Breton, _Excursions in New South Wales_, p. 221; Collins, _Account of the English Colony in New South Wales_, i. 599 _sq._; Hodgson, _Reminiscences of Australia_, p. 79; Mitchell, _Expeditions into the Interior of Eastern Australia_, i. 264, 304; Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 71 _sq._ (Australian tribes). Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 579 (West African Negroes). Bosman, _Description of the Coast of Guinea_, p. 324 _sq._ (Negroes of Fida and the Gold Coast). Caillié, _Travels through Central Africa_, i. 353 (Mandingoes). Beltrame, _Il Fiume Bianco_, p. 83 (Shilluk). Wilson and Felkin, _Uganda and the Egyptian Soudan_, ii. 310 (Gowane people of Kordofan). Krapf, _Travels, Researches and Missionary Labours in Eastern Africa_, p. 355 (Wakamba). Burton, _Zanzibar_, ii. 92 (Wanika). Bonfanti, 'L'incivilimento dei negri nell' Africa intertropicale,' in _Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia_, xv. 133 (Bantu races). Arbousset and Daumas, _Exploratory Tour to the North-East of the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope_, p. 323 (Bechuanas). Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, pp. 468 _sq._ (Bechuanas), 499 (Bayeye). Leslie, _Among the Zulus and Amatongas_, p. 256. Fritsch, _Die Eingeborenen Süd-Afrika's_, pp. 53 (Kafirs), 372, 419 (Hottentots and Bushmans).] [Footnote 3: Domenech, _Great Deserts of North America_, ii. 321. Mackenzie, _Voyages to the Frozen and Pacific Oceans_, p. xcvi. note (Crees). Burton, _Highlands of the Brazil_, i. 403 _sq._ Moorcroft and Trebeck, _Travels in the Himalayan Provinces_, i. 321 (Ladakhis). Anderson, _Mandalay to Momien_, p. 151 (Kakhyens). Earl, _Papuans_, p. 80. Tyler, _Forty Years among the Zulus_, p. 192.] The Fuegians have shown themselves enterprising thieves on board European vessels visiting their shores;[4] but, when presents were given to them, a traveller noticed that "if any present was designed for one canoe, and it fell near another, it was invariably given to the right owner."[5] The boys are taught by their fathers not to steal;[6] and in case a theft has been committed, "quand le coupable est découvert et chatié, l'opinion publique est satisfaite."[7] In his dealings with the Tehuelches Lieutenant Musters was always treated with fairness, and the greatest care was taken of his belongings, though they were borrowed at times. He gives the following advice to the traveller:--"Never show distrust of the Indians; be as free with your goods and chattels as they are to each other. . . . As you treat them so they will treat you."[8] Among the Abipones doors, locks, and other things with which civilised men protect their possessions from thieves, were as unnecessary as they were unknown; and if children pilfered melons grown in the gardens of the missionaries or chickens reared in their houses, "they falsely imagined that these things were free to all, or might be taken not much against the will of the owner."[9] Among the Brazilian Indians theft and robbery were extremely rare, and are so still in places where strangers have not settled.[10] We are told that the greatest insult which could be offered to an Indian was to accuse him of stealing, and that the wild women preferred the epithet of a prostitute to that of a {4} thief.[11] When detected a thief was not only obliged to restore the property he had stolen, but was punished with stripes and wounds, the chief often acting as executioner.[12] Among the Indians of British Guiana theft and pilfering rarely occur; "if they happen to take anything, they do it before one's eyes, under the notion of having some claim to it, which, when called to an account, they are always prepared to substantiate."[13] If anything is stolen from his house during his absence, the Guiana Indian thinks that the missing article has been carried off by people of some other race than his own.[14] Formerly, when the Caribs lost anything, they used to say, "The Christians have been here."[15] In Hayti the punishment of a thief was to be eaten.[16] [Footnote 4: Weddell, _Voyage towards the South Pole_, pp. 151, 154, 182. King and Fitzroy, _Voyages of the "Adventure" and "Beagle,"_ i. 128; ii. 188.] [Footnote 5: Darwin, _Journal of Researches_, p. 242. See also Snow, 'Wild Tribes of Tierra del Fuego,' in _Jour. Ethn. Soc. London_, N.S. i. 264.] [Footnote 6: Bridges, in _A Voice for South America_, xiii. 204.] [Footnote 7: Hyades and Deniker, _Mission scientifique du Cap Horn_, vii. 243.] [Footnote 8: Musters, _At Home with the Patagonians_, pp. 195, 197 _sq._] [Footnote 9: Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, ii. 148 _sq._] [Footnote 10: von Martius, _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 85, 87 _sq._ _Idem_, in _Jour. Roy. Geo. Soc._ ii. 196. von Spix and von Martius, _Travels in Brazil_, ii. 242. Southey, _History of Brazil_, i. 247. von den Steinen, _Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens_, p. 332. Burton, _Highlands of the Brazil_, i. 403 _sq._] [Footnote 11: Burton, _Highlands of the Brazil_, i. 404.] [Footnote 12: von Martius, _Beiträge_, i. 88. _Idem_, in _Jour. Roy. Geo. Soc._ ii. 196.] [Footnote 13: Bernau, _Missionary Labours in British Guiana_, p. 51.] [Footnote 14: Brett, _Indian Tribes of Guiana_, p. 348.] [Footnote 15: Kames, _Sketches of the History of Man_, iv. 133 _sq._] [Footnote 16: von Martius, _Beiträge_, i. 88, n.*] It is known that many North American tribes had a very high standard of honesty among themselves. Domenech wrote:--"The Indians who do not come in contact with the Palefaces never appropriate what belongs to others; they have no law against theft, as it is a crime unknown among them. They never close their doors."[17] According to Colonel Dodge, theft was the sole unpardonable crime amongst them; a man found guilty of stealing even the most trifling article from a member of his own band was whipped almost to death, deprived of his property, and together with his wives and children driven away from the band to starve or live as best he could.[18] Among the Rocky Mountains Indians visited by Harmon theft was frequently punished with death.[19] Among the Omahas, "when the suspected thief did not confess his offence, some of his property was taken from him until he told the truth. When he restored what he had stolen, one-half of his own property was returned to him, and the rest was given to the man from whom he had stolen. Sometimes all of the policemen whipped the thief. But when the thief fled from the tribe, and remained away for a year or two, the offence was not remembered."[20] Among the Wyandots the punishment for theft is twofold restitution.[21] The Iroquois looked down upon {5} theft with the greatest disdain, although the lash of public indignation was the only penalty attached to it.[22] The Potawatomis considered it one of the most atrocious crimes.[23] Among the Chippewas Keating found a few individuals who were addicted to thieving, but these were held in disrepute.[24] Richardson praises the Chippewyans for their honesty, no precautions for the safety of his and his companions property being required during their stay among them.[25] Mackenzie was struck by the remarkable honesty of the Beaver Indians; "in the whole tribe there were only two women and a man who had been known to have swerved from that virtue, and they were considered as objects of disregard and reprobation."[26] Among the Ahts "larceny of a fellow-tribesman's property is rarely heard of, and the aggravation of taking it from the house or person is almost unknown"; nay, "anything left under an Indian's charge, in reliance on his good faith, is perfectly safe."[27] The Thlinkets generally respect the property of their fellow-tribesmen; but although they admit that theft is wrong they do not regard it as a very serious offence, which disgraces the perpetrator, and if a thief is caught he is only required to return the stolen article or to pay its value.[28] Among the Aleuts "theft was not only a crime but a disgrace"; for the first offence of this kind corporal punishment was inflicted, for the fourth the penalty was death.[29] According to Egede, the Greenlanders had as great an abhorrence of stealing among themselves as any nation upon earth;[30] according to Cranz, they considered such an act "excessively disgraceful."[31] Similar views still prevail among them, as also among other Eskimo tribes.[32] A Greenlander never touches driftwood which another {6} has placed above high-water mark, though it would often be easy to appropriate it without fear of detection.[33] Parry states that, during his stay at Igloolik and Winter Island, a great many instances occurred in which the Eskimo scrupulously returned articles that did not belong to them, even though detection of a theft, or at least of the offender, would have been next to impossible.[34] [Footnote 17: Domenech, _op. cit._ ii. 320.] [Footnote 18: Dodge, _Our Wild Indians_, pp. 64, 79. _Cf._ Charlevoix, _Journal of a Voyage to North America_, ii. 26, 28 (Hurons).] [Footnote 19: Harmon, _Voyages and Travels in the Interior of North America_, p. 348.] [Footnote 20: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 367.] [Footnote 21: Powell, 'Wyandot Government,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ i. 66.] [Footnote 22: Colden, in Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, iii. 191. Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 333 _sq._ Loskiel, _History of the Mission of the United Brethren among the Indians_, i. 16.] [Footnote 23: Keating, _Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River_, i. 127.] [Footnote 24: _Ibid._ ii. 168.] [Footnote 25: Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, ii. 19 _sq._] [Footnote 26: Mackenzie, _Voyages to the Frozen and Pacific Oceans_, p. 148.] [Footnote 27: Sproat, _Scenes and Studies of Savage Life_, p. 159.] [Footnote 28: Krause, _Die Tlinkit-Indianer_, p. 167. Holmberg, 'Ethnographische Skizzen über die Völker des russischen Amerika,' in _Acta Soc. Scient. Fennicæ_, iv. 322. Petroff, _Report on Alaska_, p. 170. Dall, _Alaska_, p. 416.] [Footnote 29: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _op. cit._ pp. 155, 152.] [Footnote 30: Egede, _Description of Greenland_, p. 124. See also Dalager, _Grønlandske Relationer_, p. 69.] [Footnote 31: Cranz, _History of Greenland_, 160.] [Footnote 32: Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 335. _Idem_, _Eskimo Life_, p. 158. Rink, _Danish Greenland_, p. 224. Hall, _Arctic Researches_, pp. 567, 571. Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, i. 352. Parry, _Second Voyage for the Discovery of a North-West Passage_, p. 522; Lyon, _Private Journal_, p. 347 (Eskimo of Igloolik). Seemann, _Voyage of "Herald,"_ ii. 65 (Western Eskimo). Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 293. Among the Point Barrow Eskimo, however, "men who were said to be thieves did not appear to lose any social consideration" (Murdoch, 'Ethnological Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 41).] [Footnote 33: Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 162.] [Footnote 34: Parry, _op. cit._ p. 521.] Among the Chukchi it is held criminal to thieve "in the family and race to which a person belongs";[35] and incorrigible thieves are sometimes banished from the village.[36] In Kamchatka, if anybody was found to be a thief he was beaten by the person from whom he had stolen, without being allowed to make resistance, and no one would ever after be friends with him.[37] The three principal precepts of the Ainu are to honour old age, not to steal, not to lie;[38] theft is also uncommon among them, and is severely punished.[39] Among the Kirghiz "whoever commits a robbery on any of the nation must make restitution to nine times the value."[40] Among the Tunguses a thief is punished by a certain number of strokes; he is besidesobliged to restore the things stolen, and remains covered with ignominy all the rest of his life.[41] The Jakuts,[42] Ostyaks,[43] Mordvins[44] Samoyedes,[45] and Lapps,[46] are praised for their honesty, at least among their own people; and so are the Butias,[47] Kukis,[48] Santals,[49] the hill people in the Central Provinces of India,[50] and the Chittagong Hill tribes.[51] The Kurubars of the Dekhan are of such known honesty, that on all occasions they are entrusted with the custody of produce by the farmers, who know that they would rather starve than take one grain of what was given them in {7} charge.[52] "Honest as a Pahari," is a proverbial expression. In fact, among these mountaineers theft is almost unknown, and the men "carry treasures, which to them would be priceless, for days and days, along wild mountain tracks, whence at any moment they might diverge, and never be traced. Even money is safely entrusted to them, and is invariably delivered into the right hands."[53] Harkness says of the Todás:--"I never saw a people, civilised or uncivilised, who seemed to have a more religious respect for the rights of _meum et tuum_. This feeling is taught to their children from the tenderest age."[54] Among the Chukmas "theft is unknown."[55] Among the Karens habitual thieves are sold into slavery.[56] Among the Shans theft of valuable property is punishable with death, though it may be expiated by a money payment; but in cases of culprits who cannot pay, or whose relatives cannot pay, death is looked upon as a fitting punishment even for petty thefts.[57] At Zimmé, "if a theft is proved, three times the value of the article is decreed to the owner; and if not paid, the offender, after suffering imprisonment in irons, is made over with his family, to be dealt with as in cases of debt."[58] Among the hill tribes of North Aracan a person who commits theft is bound to return the property or its value and pay a fine not exceeding Rs. 30.[59] Among the Kandhs, on the other hand, the restitution of the property abstracted or the substitution of an equivalent is alone required by ancient usage; but this leniency extends to the first offence only, a repetition of it being followed by expulsion from the community.[60] The Andaman Islanders call theft a _y[=u]bda_, or sin.[61] Among those Veddahs who live in their natural state, theft and robbery are not known at all.[62] They think it perfectly inconceivable that any person should ever take that which does not belong to him,[63] and death only would, in their opinion, be the punishment for such an offence.[64] [Footnote 35: Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 183.] [Footnote 36: Dall, _op. cit._ p. 382.] [Footnote 37: Steller, _Beschreibung von Kamtschatka_, p. 356. See also _supra_, i. 311 _sq._] [Footnote 38: von Siebold, _Die Aino auf der Insel Yesso_, p. 25.] [Footnote 39: _Ibid._ pp. 11, 34 _sq._ See also _supra_, i. 312.] [Footnote 40: Georgi, _op. cit._ ii. 262.] [Footnote 41: _Ibid._ iii. 83 _sq._ _Cf._ _ibid._ iii. 78.] [Footnote 42: _Ibid._ ii. 397. Sauer, _Expedition to the Northern Parts of Russia_, p. 122.] [Footnote 43: Castrén, _Nordiska resor och forskningar_, i. 319.] [Footnote 44: Georgi, _op. cit._ i. 113.] [Footnote 45: _Ibid._ iii. 13. von Struve, in _Das Ausland_, 1880, p. 796.] [Footnote 46: Jessen, _Afhandling om de Norske Finners og Lappers Hedenske Religion_, p. 72. Castrén, _op. cit._ i. 118 _sq._] [Footnote 47: Fraser, _Tour through the Him[=a]l[=a] Mountains_, p. 335.] [Footnote 48: Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, p. 256. _Cf._ Butler, _Travels in Assam_, p. 94.] [Footnote 49: Man, _Sonthalia_, p. 20.] [Footnote 50: Hislop, _Papers relating to the Aboriginal Tribes of the Central Provinces_, p. 1.] [Footnote 51: Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, p. 341.] [Footnote 52: Buchanan, quoted by Elliot, 'Characteristics of the Population of Central and Southern India,' in _Jour. Ethn. Soc. London_, N.S. i. 105.] [Footnote 53: Cumming, _In the Himalayas_, p. 356.] [Footnote 54: Harkness, _Description of a Singular Aboriginal Race inhabiting the Neilgherry Hills_, p. 17 _sq._] [Footnote 55: Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, p. 188.] [Footnote 56: Mason, 'Dwellings, &c., of the Karens,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxxvii. pt. ii. p. 146 _sq._ Smeaton, _Loyal Karens of Burma_, p. 86.] [Footnote 57: Woodthorpe, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. 21.] [Footnote 58: Colquhoun, _Amongst the Shans_, p. 131.] [Footnote 59: St. John, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ ii. 241.] [Footnote 60: Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 82.] [Footnote 61: Man, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 112.] [Footnote 62: Sarasin, _Ergebnisse naturwissenschaftlicher Forschungen auf Ceylon_, iii. 548. Deschamps, _Carnet d'un voyageur_, p. 385. Nevill, 'Vaeddas of Ceylon,' in _Taprobanian_, i. 192.] [Footnote 63: Hartshorne, 'Weddas,' in _Indian Antiquary_, viii. 320.] [Footnote 64: Sarasin, _op. cit._ iii. 549.] {8} In the Malay Archipelago native custom punishes theft with a fine, most frequently equivalent to twice the value of the stolen article,[65] or with slavery,[66] mutilation,[67] or even death;[68] and in many islands it was lawful to kill a thief caught in the act.[69] Among the Malays of Perak,[70] Dyaks,[71] Kyans,[72] Bataks,[73] and the natives of Ambon and Uliase,[74] theft is said to be unknown or almost so, at least within their own communities. [Footnote 65: Wilken, 'Het strafrecht bij de volken van het maleische ras,' in _Bijdragen tot de taal- land- en volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië_, 1883, Land- en volkenkunde, p. 109 _sq._ Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, iii. 117. Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, pp. 221 (Rejangs), 389 (Bataks). von Brenner, _Besuch bei den Kannibalen Sumatras_, p. 213 (Bataks). Junghuhn, _Die Battaländer auf Sumatra_, ii. 145 (Bataks), 308 (natives of Passumah in Central Sumatra), 317 (Timorese), 339 (natives of Bali and Lombok). Modigliani, _op. cit._ p. 496; von Rosenberg, _Der malayische Archipel_, p. 166 (Niase). Worcester, _Philippine Islands_, p. 108 (Tagbanuas of Palawan).] [Footnote 66: Wilken, _loc. cit._ p. 108 _sq._ Junghuhn, _op. cit._ ii. 145 _sq._ (Bataks). Raffles, _History of Java_, ii. p. ccxxxv. (people of Bali). Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 320 (people of Timor-laut). von Rosenberg, _op. cit._ p. 166 (Niase).] [Footnote 67: St. John, _Life in the Forests of the Far East_, ii. 297 (natives of the kingdom of Borneo, formerly). Low, _Sarawak_, p. 133. Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 404 (Achinese of Sumatra). Hickson, _A Naturalist in North Celebes_, p. 198 (Sangirese). Crawfurd, _op. cit._ iii. 107, 115. Crawfurd thinks (_ibid._ iii. 107) that the punishment of mutilation was introduced by Muhammedanism.] [Footnote 68: Crawfurd, _op. cit._ iii. 115 (Javanese) Kükenthal, _Ergebnisse einer zoologischen Forschungsreise in den Molukken und Borneo_, i. 188 (Alfura of Halmahera). Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 471 (Poggi Islanders). Among the Bataks (von Brenner, _op. cit._ p. 212) and Achinese of Sumatra (Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 404) robbery is punished with death.] [Footnote 69: Wilken, _loc. cit._ p. 88 _sqq._ von Rosenberg, _op. cit._ p. 166; Modigliani, _op. cit._ p. 496 (Niase).] [Footnote 70: McNair, _Perak and the Malays_, p. 204.] [Footnote 71: Boyle, _Adventures among the Dyaks of Borneo_, p. 235. Bock, _Head-Hunters of Borneo_, p. 209. Selenka, _Sonnige Welten_, p. 19. Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, i. 81, 82, 92.] [Footnote 72: Low, _op. cit._ p. 336.] [Footnote 73: Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 389. Junghuhn, _op. cit._ ii. 148.] [Footnote 74: Martin, _Reisen in den Molukken_, p. 63.] Many of the South Sea Islanders have been described as honest among themselves, and some of them as honest even towards Europeans.[75] In the opinion of Captain Cook the light-coloured Polynesians have thievish propensities, but the dark-coloured not.[76] In the Tonga Islands theft was considered {9} an act of meanness rather than a crime,[77] whereas in many other islands it was regarded as a very grave offence.[78] Sometimes the delinquent was subject to private retaliation,[79] sometimes to a fine,[80] or blows,[81] or the loss of a finger,[82] or the penalty of death.[83] [Footnote 75: Earl, _Papuans_, pp. 49, 80, 105. Seemann, _Viti_, p. 46 _sq._; Anderson, _Travel in Fiji_, p. 130. Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 73 (Micronesians). Melville, _Typee_, pp. 294 (Marquesas Islanders), 295 n. 1 (various Polynesians). Williams, _Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea Islands_, p. 530 (Samoans). von Kotzebue, _Voyage of Discovery into the South Sea_, iii. 164 (people of Radack), 255 (Sandwich Islanders). Lisiansky, _op. cit._ p. 125 (Sandwich Islanders). Dieffenbach, _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 105; Meade, _Ride through the disturbed Districts of New Zealand_, p. 162 _sq._; Thomson, _Story of New Zealand_, i. 86; Colenso, _Maori Races_, p. 43. Bonwick, _Daily Life and Origin of the Tasmanians_, p. 9.] [Footnote 76: Seemann, _Viti_, p. 47.] [Footnote 77: Mariner, _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 162. In Ponapé (Christian, _Caroline Islands_, p. 72) and among the Maoris (Meade, _op. cit._ p. 162) thieves are said to be despised.] [Footnote 78: Earl, _op. cit._ p. 80 (Papuans of Dorey). Ellis, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 429; &c.] [Footnote 79: Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 278 (natives of Humphrey's Island), 343 (New Caledonians). Lisiansky, _op. cit._ p. 80 _sq._ (Nukahivans). Williams, _Missionary Enterprises_, p. 127 (natives of Rarotonga). Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, iv. 420 (Sandwich Islanders).] [Footnote 80: Earl, _op. cit._ p. 83 (Papuans of Dorey). Sorge, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse von eingeborenen Völkern in Afrika und Ozeanien_, p. 421 (Nissan Islanders of the Bismarck Archipelago). Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, p. 22. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 281 (natives of the Mitchell Group).] [Footnote 81: Cook, _Journal of a Voyage round the World_, p. 42 (Tahitians). Yate, _Account of New Zealand_, p. 104.] [Footnote 82: Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, p. 23.] [Footnote 83: Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, p. 47. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 290 (natives of Hudson's Island), 295 (natives of Arorae), 297 (natives of Nikumau of the Gilbert Group), 300 (natives of Francis Island), 337 (Efatese, of the New Hebrides). Tutuila, in _Jour. Polynesian Soc._ i. 268 (Line Islanders). Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, iv. 421 (Sandwich Islanders). Cook, _Journal of a Voyage round the World_, p. 41 _sq._ (Tahitians).] Among the natives of Herbert River, Northern Queensland, there is "considerable respect for the right of property, and they do not steal from one another to any great extent. . . . If they hunt they will not take another person's game, all the members of the same tribe having apparently full confidence in each other."[84] When a theft does occur, "the thief is challenged by his victim to a duel with wooden swords and shields; and the matter is settled sometimes privately, the relatives of both parties serving as witnesses, sometimes publicly at the borboby, where two hundred to three hundred meet from various tribes to decide all their disputes. The victor in the duel wins in the dispute."[85] So also among the Dieyerie tribe, "should any native steal from another, and the offender be known, he is challenged to fight by the person he has robbed, and this settles the matter."[86] Of the Bangerang tribe of Victoria we are told that, amongst themselves, they were scrupulously honest;[87] and, speaking of West Australian natives, Mr. Chauncy expresses his belief that "the members of a tribe never pilfer from each other."[88] In their relations to Europeans, again, Australian blacks have been sometimes accused of thievishness,[89] sometimes praised for their {10} honesty.[90] From his own observation Mr. Curr has no doubt that they feel that theft is wrong.[91] Of the aborigines of West Australia we are told that they occasionally speared the sheep and robbed the potato gardens of the early settlers simply because they did not understand the settlers' views regarding property, having themselves no separate property in any living animal except their dogs or in any produce of the soil. But "only entrust a native with property, and he will invariably be faithful to the trust. Lend him your gun to shoot game, and he will bring you the result of his day's sport; send him a long journey with provisions for your shepherd, and he will certainly deliver them safely. Entrust him with a flock of sheep through a rugged country to a distant run, and he and his wife will take them generally more safely than a white man would."[92] [Footnote 84: Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 147.] [Footnote 85: _Ibid._ p. 126.] [Footnote 86: Gason, in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 266.] [Footnote 87: Curr, _Recollections of Squatting in Victoria_, p. 298.] [Footnote 88: Chauncy, in Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, ii. 278.] [Footnote 89: _Supra_, ii. 2, n. 1.] [Footnote 90: Howitt, in Brought Smyth, _op. cit._ ii. 306. Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 90.] [Footnote 91: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 100.] [Footnote 92: Chauncy, in Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ ii. 278.] "The Arab," says Burckhardt, "robs his enemies, his friends, and his neighbours, provided that they are not actually in his own tent, where their property is sacred. To rob in the camp, or among friendly tribes, is not reckoned creditable to a man; yet no stain remains upon him for such an action, which, in fact, is of daily occurrence. But the Arab chiefly prides himself on robbing his enemies."[93] This, however, seems to hold true only of Bedouin tribes inhabiting rich pasture plains, who are much exposed to attacks from others, whereas in more sheltered territories a person who "attempts to steal in the tents of his own tribe, is for ever dishonoured among his friends." Thus among the Arabs of Sinai robberies are wholly unknown; any articles of dress or of furniture may be left upon a rock without the least risk of their being taken away.[94] According to Waháby law, a robber is obliged to return the stolen goods or their value, but if the offence is not attended with circumstances of violence he escapes without further punishment, except a fine to the treasury.[95] Among some Bedouins of [H.]adhramaut theft from a tribesman is punished with banishment from the tribe.[96] Lady Anne and Mr. Blunt state that, with regard to honesty, the pure Bedouin stands in marked contrast to his half-bred brethren. Whilst the Kurdish and semi-Kurdish tribes of Upper Mesopotamia make it almost a point of honour to steal, the genuine Arab accounts theft disgraceful, although he holds {11} highway robbery to be a right. In the large tribes persons of known dishonesty are not tolerated.[97] [Footnote 93: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 90.] [Footnote 94: _Ibid._ p. 184 _sq._ Wallin, _Första resa från Cairo till Arabiska öknen_, p. 64.] [Footnote 95: Burckhardt, _op. cit._ p. 301.] [Footnote 96: von Wrede, _Reise in [H.]adhramaut_, p. 51.] [Footnote 97: Blunt, _Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates_, ii. 204, 225.] In Africa honesty between members of the same tribe is no uncommon characteristic of the native races, and some of them have displayed the same quality in their dealings with European travellers.[98] Andersson, for instance, tells us that the Ovambo, so far as they came under his observation, were strictly honest and appeared to entertain great horror of theft. "Without permission," he says, "the natives would not even touch anything; and we could leave our camp free from the least apprehension of being plundered. As a proof of their honesty, I may mention, that, when we left the Ovambo country, the servants forgot some trifles; and such was the integrity of the people, that messengers actually came after us a very considerable distance to restore the articles left behind."[99] A few African peoples are said to look upon petty larceny almost with indifference.[100] Among others thieves are only compelled to restore stolen property, or to return an equivalent for it,[101] but at the same time they are disgraced or laughed at.[102] In Africa, as elsewhere, theft is frequently punished with a fine.[103] Thus {12} among the Bahima,[104] Wadshagga,[105] and Tanala of Madagascar,[106] thieves are made to pay twice the value of the stolen goods; among the Takue,[107] Rendile,[108] and Herero,[109] three times their value; among the Bechuanas double or fourfold.[110] Among the Taveta, if a man commits a theft, he has to refund what he has robbed, and five times the value of the stolen property can be claimed by the person who has suffered the loss.[111] Among the Kafirs, "in cases of cattle stealing, the law allows a fine of ten head, though but one may have been stolen, provided the animal has been slaughtered, or cannot be restored."[112] Among the Masai, according to Herr Merker, the fine for stealing cattle is likewise a tenfold one;[113] whilst, according to another authority, "if a man steals one cow, or more than one cow, all his property is given to the man from whom he has stolen."[114] Among the Basukuma all thieves, it seems, are punished with the confiscation of everything they possess.[115] Other punishments for theft are imprisonment,[116] banishment,[117] slavery,[118] flogging,[119] mutilation,[120] and, especially under aggravating circumstances, death.[121] {13} In some African countries a thief caught in the act may be killed with impunity.[122] [Footnote 98: St. John, _Village Life in Egypt_, ii. 198. Tristram, _The Great Sahara_, p. 193 _sq._ (Beni Mzab). Nachtigal, _Sahara und Sudan_, i. 188 (inhabitants of Fezzân). Dyveyrier, _Exploration du Sahara_, p. 385 (Touareg); _cf._ Chavanne, _Die Sahara_, p. 188. Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 531 _sq._ (Barea and Kunáma). Scaramucci and Giglioli, 'Notizie sui Danakil,' in _Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia_ xiv. 25. Baumann, _Durch Massailand zur Nilquelle_, pp. 165 (Masai), 179 (Wafiomi). Thomson, _Through Masai Land_, p. 64 (Wakwafi of the Taveta). Baker, _Ismailïa_, p. 56; Petherick, _Travels in Central Africa_, ii. 3 (Shilluk). Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 182 (Eastern Central Africans). Mungo Park, _Travels in the Interior of Africa_, p. 239; Caillié, _Travels through Central Africa to Timbuctoo_, i. 353 (Mandingoes). Ward, _Five Years with the Congo Cannibals_, p. 93; Tuckey, _Expedition to explore the River Zaire_, p. 374. Johnston, _Uganda Protectorate_, ii. 590 (Wanyoro). Kolben, _Present State of the Cape of Good Hope_, i. 326; Hahn, _The Supreme Being of the Khoi-Khoi_, p. 32 (Hottentots); _cf._ Fritsch, _Die Eingeborenen Süd-Afrika's_, p. 307. Tyler, _Forty Years among the Zulus_, p. 191 _sq._] [Footnote 99: Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 197. _Cf._ _Idem_, _Notes on Travel in South Africa_, p. 236.] [Footnote 100: Monrad, _Skildring af Guinea-Kysten_, p. 6, n.*; Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 580 (West African Negroes). Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 144.] [Footnote 101: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, pp. 389 (inhabitants of Saraë), 494 (Barea and Kunáma). Arbousset and Daumas, _op. cit._ p. 66 (Mantetis). Cunningham, _Uganda_, p. 293 (Baziba). Rautanen, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 343 (Ondonga). Warner, in Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, pp. 65, 67. Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 84.] [Footnote 102: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, pp. 386 (inhabitants of Saraë), 531 (Barea and Kunáma). Arbousset and Daumas, _op. cit._ p. 66 (Mantetis).] [Footnote 103: Scaramucci and Giglioli, in _Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia_, xiv. 39 (Danakil). Nachtigal, _op. cit._ i. 449 (Tedâ). Bosman, _Description of the Coast of Guinea_, p. 142 (Negroes of Axim, on the Gold Coast). Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 303. _Idem_, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 225. _Emin Pasha in Central Africa_, p. 86 (Wanyoro). Cunningham, _Uganda_, p. 322 (Manyema). Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 52 (Banaka and Bapuku). Beverley, _ibid._ p. 215 (Wagogo). Lang, _ibid._ p. 259 (Washambala). Wandrer, _ibid._ p. 325 (Hottentots). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 85 _sq._] [Footnote 104: Cunningham, _Uganda_, p. 20.] [Footnote 105: Volkens, _Der Kilimandscharo_, p. 250.] [Footnote 106: Richardson, 'Tanala Customs,' in _Antananarivo Annual_, ii. 95 _sq._] [Footnote 107: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 208.] [Footnote 108: Chanler, _Through Jungle and Desert_, p. 317.] [Footnote 109: François, _Nama und Damara_, p. 174.] [Footnote 110: Holub, _Seven Years in South Africa_, i. 395. Casalis, _Basutos_, p. 228.] [Footnote 111: Hollis, in _Jour. African Soc._ i. 123.] [Footnote 112: Dugmore, in Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 36. _Cf._ _ibid._ pp. 112, 143.] [Footnote 113: Merker, _Die Masai_, p. 208.] [Footnote 114: Hinde, _The Last of the Masai_, p. 107.] [Footnote 115: Cunningham, _Uganda_, p. 304.] [Footnote 116: Mademba, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 90 (inhabitants of the Sansanding States).] [Footnote 117: Chavanne, _Die Sahara_, p. 315 (Beni Mzab).] [Footnote 118: Bowdich, _Mission to Ashantee_, p. 258, n.* (Fantis). Petherick, _op. cit._ ii. 3 (Shilluk of the White Nile). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 87.] [Footnote 119: Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 261 (West Equatorial Africans). Ellis, _Yoruba-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 191. Volkens, _op. cit._ p. 250 (Wadshagga). Velten, _Sitten und Gebräuche der Suaheli_, p. 363. Campbell, _Travels in South Africa_, p. 519. Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 88.] [Footnote 120: de Abreu, _Discovery and Conquest of the Canary Islands_, p. 27 (aborigines of Ferro). Ellis, _Yoruba-speaking Peoples_, p. 191. Beltrame, _Il Fiume Bianco_, p. 280 (Dinka). Casati, _Ten Years in Equatoria_, i. 163 (Mambettu and Wanyoro). Wilson and Felkin, _Uganda and the Egyptian Soudan_, i. 201 (Waganda). Holub, _op. cit._ i. 395 _sq._ (Bechuanas). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 87 _sq._] [Footnote 121: Ellis, _Yoruba-speaking Peoples_, p. 191; Burton, _Abeokuta_, i. 304 (Yoruba). Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples_, p. 303. Bosman, _op. cit._ p. 143 (Negroes of Axim). Cunningham, _Uganda_, pp. 69 (Banabuddu), 102 (Bakoki), 346 (Karamojo). François, _op. cit._ p. 175 (Herero). Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 197 (Ovambo). Casalis, _op. cit._ p. 228 (Basutos). Shooter, _Kafirs of Natal_, p. 155. Tyler, _op. cit._ p. 192 (Zulus). Kolben, _op. cit._ i. 158 (Hottentots). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 88 _sq._] [Footnote 122: Hübbe-Schleiden, _Ethiopien_, p. 143 (Mpongwe). Cunningham, _Uganda_, p. 333 (Lendu). Burton, _Zanzibar_, ii. 94 (Wanika). Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 162, 183 (Eastern Central Africans). Macdonald, 'East Central African Customs,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxii. 109. _Supra_, i. 289.] The condemnation of theft, in one and the same people, varies in degree according to a variety of circumstances. It is influenced by the value of the goods stolen, as appears from the different punishments inflicted in cases where the value differs.[123] Thus, when the penalty consists of a fine, its amount is often strictly proportioned to the loss suffered by the owner, the thief being compelled to pay twice, or three, or four, or five, or ten times the worth of the appropriated article.[124] Among the Aztecs a petty thief became the slave of the person from whom he had stolen, whilst theft of a large amount was almost invariably punished with death.[125] According to the Koran, theft is to be punished by cutting off the offender's right hand for the first offence; but a Sunneh law ordains that this punishment shall not be inflicted if the value of the stolen property is less than a quarter of a deenár.[126] Ancient Scotch law proportioned the punishment of theft to the value of the goods stolen, heightening it gradually from a slight corporal to a capital punishment, if the value {14} amounted to thirty-two pennies Scots, which in the reign of David I. was the price of two sheep.[127] In England a distinction was made between "grand" and "petty larceny," the line between them being drawn at twelve pence, and grand larceny was capital at least as early as the time of Edward I.[128] Among various peoples custom or law punishes with particular severity the stealing of objects of a certain kind, such as cattle, horses, agricultural implements, corn, precious metals, or arms.[129] The Negroes of Axim, says Bosman, "will rather put a man to death for stealing a sheep, than killing a man."[130] The Kalmucks regard horse-stealing as the greatest of all crimes.[131] The ancient Teutons held cattle-lifting and robbery of crops to be particularly disgraceful.[132] According to Roman law, people who stole an ox or horse from the pastures or from a stable, or ten sheep, or four or five swine, might be punished even with death.[133] The natives of Danger Island, in the South Seas, punished with drowning anyone who was caught stealing food, "the most valuable property they knew of."[134] In Tahiti, on the other hand, those who stole clothes or arms were commonly put to death, whereas those who stole provisions were bastinadoed.[135] Among other peoples the appropriation of a small quantity of food belonging to somebody else is not punished at all.[136] The Masai do not punish a person for stealing milk or meat.[137] Among the Bakoki "it was not a crime to steal bananas."[138] In ancient Mexico "every poor traveller was permitted to {15} take of the maize, or the fruit-bearing trees, which were planted by the side of the highway, as much as was sufficient to satisfy immediate hunger."[139] Among the Hebrews a person was allowed to go into his neighbour's vineyard and eat grapes at his own pleasure, or to pluck ears in his field, but the visitor was forbidden to put any grapes in his vessel or to move a sickle into the standing corn.[140] It is said in the Laws of Manu that "a twice-born man, who is travelling and whose provisions are exhausted, shall not be fined, if he takes two stalks of sugar-cane or two esculent roots from the field of another man."[141] According to ancient Swedish laws, a passer-by could take a handful of peas, beans, turnips, and so forth, from another person's field, and a traveller could give to his fatigued horse some hay from any barn he found in the wood.[142] However, whilst the punishment of theft is commonly, to some extent, influenced by the worth or nature of the appropriated property, there are peoples who punish thieves with the same severity whether they have stolen little or much. Among the North American Indians described by Colonel Dodge "the value of the article stolen is not considered. The crime is the theft."[143] Among the Yleou, a Manchurian tribe mentioned by ancient Chinese chroniclers, theft of any kind was punished with death.[144] The Beni Mzab in the Sahara sentence a thief to two years banishment and the payment of fifty francs, independently of the value of the thing he has stolen.[145] [Footnote 123: Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 52 (Banaka and Bapuku). Nicole, _ibid._ p. 133 (Diakité-Sarracolese). Beverley, _ibid._ p. 215 (Wagogo). Bosman, _op. cit._ p. 142 (Negroes of Axim). Hinde, _op. cit._ p. 107 (Masai). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 91. _Idem_, _Grundriss der ethnologischen Jurisprudenz_, ii. 420. _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cclxix. _sqq._ p. 284 _sqq._ (Chinese). Keil, _Manual of Biblical Archæology_, ii. 366. _Laws of Manu_, viii. 320 _sqq._ Wilda, _Das Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 870 _sqq._; Nordström, _Bidrag till den svenska samhälls-författningens historia_, ii. 296 _sqq._; Stemann, _Den danske Retshistorie indtil Christian V.'s Lov_, pp. 621, 677 _sq._; Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 639 _sqq._ (ancient Teutons). Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, p. 721.] [Footnote 124: _Supra_, ii. 4, 6-8, 12.] [Footnote 125: Bancroft, _Native Races of the Pacific States_, ii. 456.] [Footnote 126: _Koran_, v. 42. Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 120 _sq._ _Idem_, _Arabian Society in the Middle Ages_, p. 20. Sachau, _Muhammedanisches Recht_, pp. 810, 811, 825 _sqq._] [Footnote 127: Erskine, _Principles of the Law of Scotland_, p. 568. Innes, _Scotland in the Middle Ages_, p. 190. Mackintosh, _History of Civilisation in Scotland_, 231.] [Footnote 128: Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the Time of Edward I._ ii. 495 _sq._ Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 640. Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, iii. 129.] [Footnote 129: Post, _Grundriss der ethnologischen Jurisprudenz_, ii. 421 _sqq._] [Footnote 130: Bosman, _op. cit._ p. 143.] [Footnote 131: Bergmann, _Nomadische Streifereien unter den Kalmüken_, ii. 297.] [Footnote 132: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 636 _sq._ Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 875 _sq._ Nordström, _op. cit._ ii. 307. Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 645 _sq._] [Footnote 133: _Digesta_, xlvii. 14. 1. pr., 1, 3; xlvii. 14. 3.] [Footnote 134: Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, p. 47.] [Footnote 135: Cook, _Journal of a Voyage round the World_, p. 41 _sq._] [Footnote 136: _Supra_, i. 286 _sq._ Post, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, ii. 426. Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 385.] [Footnote 137: Hollis, _Masai_, p. 310.] [Footnote 138: Cunningham, _Uganda_, p. 102 _sq._] [Footnote 139: Clavigero, _History of Mexico_, i. 358.] [Footnote 140: _Deuteronomy_, xxiii. 24 _sq._] [Footnote 141: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 341. _Cf._ _ibid._ viii. 339.] [Footnote 142: Nordström, _op. cit._ ii. 297.] [Footnote 143: Dodge, _op. cit._ p. 64.] [Footnote 144: Castrén, _op. cit._ iv. 27.] [Footnote 145: Chavanne, _Die Sahara_, p. 315.] The degree of criminality attached to theft also depends on the place where it is committed. To steal from a house, especially after breaking the door, is frequently regarded as an aggravated form of theft.[146] According to Muhammedan {16} law, the punishment of cutting off the right hand of the thief is inflicted on him only if the stolen property was deposited in a place to which he had not ordinary or easy access; hence a man who steals in the house of a near relative is not subject to this punishment, nor a slave who robs the house of his master.[147] Among some peoples a theft committed by night is punished more heavily than one committed by day.[148] [Footnote 146: Post, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, ii. 423 _sq._ von Rosenberg, _Der malayische Archipel_, p. 166 (Niase). Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua_, p. 103 (Serangese). Lang, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 259. (Washambala). Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 878 _sq._; Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 646 (ancient Teutonic law). _Digesta_, xlvii. 11. 7; xlvii. 18. 2.] [Footnote 147: Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, p. 121. _Cf._ Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 301.] [Footnote 148: Wilken, _loc. cit._ p. 109 (people of Bali). _Digesta_, xlvii. 17. 1. _Lex Saxonum_, 32, 34; Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 877; Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 637; Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 646 (ancient Teutonic law).] A distinction is further made between ordinary theft and robbery. The robber is treated sometimes more severely,[149] sometimes more leniently than the thief, and is not infrequently regarded with admiration. Among the Wanyamwezi thieves are despised, but robbers are honoured, especially by the women, on account of their courage.[150] In Uganda robbery is not thought shameful, although it is rigorously punished.[151] In Sindh no disgrace is attached to larceny when the perpetrators are armed.[152] Among the Ossetes, "where open robbery has been committed outside a village, the court merely requires the stolen article or an equivalent to be restored; but in cases of secret theft, five times the value must be paid. Robbery and theft within the boundaries of a village are rated much higher. A proverb says, 'What a man finds on the high-road is God's gift'; and in fact highway robbery is hardly regarded as a crime."[153] The Kazak Kirghiz go so far as to consider it almost dishonourable for a man never to have taken part in a _baranta_, or cattle-lifting exploit.[154] According to {17} Bedouin notions, there is a clear distinction between "taking and stealing." To steal is to abstract clandestinely, "whereas to take, in the sense of depriving another of his property, generally implies to take from him openly, by right of superior force."[155] The Arabian robber, says Burckhardt, considers his profession honourable, and "the term _haràmy_ (robber) is one of the most flattering titles that could be conferred on a youthful hero."[156] In ancient Teutonic law theft and robbery were kept apart; the one was the secret, the other the open crime. In most law-books robbery was subject to a milder punishment than theft, and was undoubtedly regarded as far less dishonourable. Indeed, however illegal the mode of acquiring property may have been, publicity was looked upon as a palliation of the offence, if not as a species of justification, even though the injured party was a fellow-countryman.[157] This difference between theft and robbery seems still to have been felt in the thirteenth century, when Bracton had to argue that the robber is a thief.[158] But in later times robbery was regarded by the law of England as an aggravated kind of theft.[159] [Footnote 149: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cclxviii. p. 283 (Chinese law). _Digesta_, xlviii. 19. 28. 10. Erskine, _Principles of the Law of Scotland_, p. 566. Post, _Grundriss der ethnologischen Jurisprudenz_, ii. 455 _sq._] [Footnote 150: Reichardt, quoted by Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 281.] [Footnote 151: Ashe, _Two Kings of Uganda_, p. 294.] [Footnote 152: Burton, _Sindh_, p. 195.] [Footnote 153: von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 411. _Cf._ Kovalewsky, _Coutume contemporaine_, p. 342.] [Footnote 154: Vámbéry, _Das Türkenvolk_, p. 306. _Cf._ Georgi, _op. cit._ ii. 270 _sq._ (Kirghiz).] [Footnote 155: Ayrton, in Wallin, _Notes taken during a Journey through Part of Northern Arabia_, p. 29, n. [double dagger] (in _Jour. Roy. Geo. Soc._ xx. 317, n. [double dagger]).] [Footnote 156: Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 90. _Cf._ Burton, _Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah & Meccah_, ii. 101; Blunt, _op. cit._ ii. 204 _sq._] [Footnote 157: Wilda, _op. cit._ pp. 860, 911, 914. Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 634 _sq._ Nordström, _op. cit._ ii. 314 _sq._ Maurer, _Bekehrung des Norwegischen Stammes_, ii. 173 _sq._ Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 647 _sq._ Thrupp, _The Anglo-Saxon Home_, p. 288. Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 493 _sq._] [Footnote 158: Bracton, _De Legibus et Consuetudinibus Angliæ_, fol. 150 b, vol. ii. 508 _sqq._ Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 494.] [Footnote 159: Coke, _Third Part of the Institutes of the Laws of England_, p. 68. Blackstone, _Commentaries on the Laws of England_, iv. 252. Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, iii. 149. Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 493. _Cf._ Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 914.] A line has been drawn between manifest and non-manifest theft. Among many peoples thieves who are caught in the act may be killed with impunity,[160] or are punished much more heavily than other thieves, frequently with death.[161] We also hear that the worst part of the offence {18} consists in being detected, and that a successful thief is admired rather than disapproved of. [Footnote 160: _Supra_, i. 293; ii. 8, 13. Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 642. Post, _Grundriss der ethnologischen Jurisprudenz_, ii. 441 _sq._] [Footnote 161: Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 750 _sq._ Du Boys, _Histoire du droit criminel de l'Espagne_, p. 378. Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 642 _sq._; Dareste, _Études d'histoire du droit_, p. 299 _sq._ Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 495 (ancient Teutonic law). Post, _Grundriss der ethnologischen Jurisprudenz_, ii. 443.] It is said of the Navahos that "the time is evidently not long gone by when with them, as among the Spartans, adroit theft was deemed honourable."[162] Among the Californian Yuki "thieving is a virtue . . . , provided the thief is sly enough not to get caught."[163] The Ahts "have a tendency to sympathise with some forms of theft, in which dexterity is required."[164] Among the Thlinkets "theft does not seem to be considered a disgrace; the detected thief is at most ashamed of his want of skill."[165] The Chukchi "have but a bad opinion of a young girl who has never acquitted herself cleverly in some theft; and without such testimony of her dexterity and address she will scarcely find a husband."[166] In Mongolia "known thieves are treated as respectable members of society. As long as they manage well and are successful, little or no odium seems to attach to them; and it is no uncommon thing to hear them spoken of in terms of high praise. Success seems to be regarded as a kind of palliation of their crimes."[167] Among the Kukis, according to early notices, the accomplishment most esteemed was dexterity in thieving, whilst the most contemptible person was a thief caught in the act.[168] The Persians say that "it is no shame to steal, only to be found out."[169] The same view seems to be held by the Motu tribe of New Guinea,[170] the natives of Tana (New Hebrides),[171] the Maoris,[172] and several African peoples.[173] In Fiji "success, without discovery, is deemed quite enough to make thieving virtuous, and a participation in the ill-gotten gain honourable."[174] Among the Matabele {19} "the thief is not despised because he has stolen, but because he has allowed himself to be caught, and if his crime remains undetected he is admired by all."[175] Among the aborigines of Palma, in the Canary Islands, "he was esteemed the cleverest fellow who could steal with such address as not to be discovered."[176] [Footnote 162: Matthews, 'Study of Ethics among the Lower Races,' in _Journal of American Folk-Lore_, xii. 4.] [Footnote 163: Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 133.] [Footnote 164: Sproat, _op. cit._ p. 158 _sq._] [Footnote 165: Krause, _op. cit._ p. 167.] [Footnote 166: Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 183. Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, p. 232.] [Footnote 167: Gilmour, _Among the Mongols_, p. 291.] [Footnote 168: Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 45.] [Footnote 169: Polak, _Persien_, ii. 81.] [Footnote 170: Stone, _A few Months in New Guinea_, p. 95.] [Footnote 171: Brenchley, _op. cit._ p. 208.] [Footnote 172: Shortland, _Traditions and Superstitions of the New Zealanders_, p. 224. Waitz-Gerland, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, vi. 224. Dieffenbach _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 111.] [Footnote 173: Zöller, _Forschungsreisen in der deutschen Colonie Kamerun_, ii. 64 (Dualla). Wilson and Felkin, _op. cit._ i. 224 (Waganda). Leslie, _op. cit._ p. 256 (Amatongas).] [Footnote 174: Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 110.] [Footnote 175: Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, p. 165.] [Footnote 176: de Abreu, _op. cit._ p. 138.] The moral valuation of theft varies according to the social position of the thief and of the person robbed. Among the Marea a nobleman who commits theft is only obliged to restore the appropriated article; but if a commoner steals from another commoner, the whole of his property may be confiscated by the latter's master, and if he steals from a nobleman he becomes the nobleman's serf.[177] Among the Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush the penalty for theft is theoretically a fine of seven or eight times the value of the thing stolen; "but such a punishment in ordinary cases would only be inflicted on a man of inferior mark, unless it were accompanied by circumstances which aggravated the original offence."[178] In Rome, according to an old law, a freeman caught in the act of thieving was scourged and delivered over to the party aggrieved, whereas a slave in similar circumstances was scourged and then hurled from the Tarpeian rock;[179] and according to an enactment of Hadrian, the punishment for stealing an ox or horse from the pastures or from a stable was only relegation if the offender was a person of rank, though ordinary persons might have to suffer death for the same offence.[180] In ancient India, on the other hand, the punishment increased with the rank of the criminal. According to the Laws of Manu, "in a case of theft the guilt of a Sûdra shall be eightfold, that of a Vaisya sixteenfold, that of a Kshatriya two-and-thirtyfold, that of a Brâhmana sixty-fourfold, or quite a hundredfold, or even twice four-and-sixtyfold; each of them knowing the nature {20} of the offence."[181] In other cases, again, the degree of guilt is determined by the station of the person robbed.[182] Among the Gaika tribe of the Kafirs, for instance, the fine by which a theft is punished "is fixed according to the rank of the person against whom the offence is committed, confiscation of property being the general punishment imposed for offences against chiefs."[183] Among many other peoples theft or robbery committed on the property of a chief or king is treated with exceptional severity.[184] Sometimes difference in religion affects the criminality of the thief. According to modern Buddhism, "to take that which belongs to a sceptic is an inferior crime, and the guilt rises in magnitude in proportion to the merit of the individual upon whom the theft is perpetrated. To take that which belongs to the associated priesthood, or to a supreme Buddha, is the highest crime."[185] But the commonest and most important personal distinction influencing the moral valuation of theft and robbery is that between a tribesman or fellow-countryman and a stranger. [Footnote 177: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 243 _sq._] [Footnote 178: Scott Robertson, _Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 440.] [Footnote 179: Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 751.] [Footnote 180: _Digesta_, xlvii. 14. 1. pr., 3.] [Footnote 181: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 337 _sq._] [Footnote 182: Crawfurd, _op. cit._ iii. 115 (Javanese). Desoignies, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 281 (Msalala). Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 143.] [Footnote 183: Brownlee, in Maclean, _op. cit._ p. 112.] [Footnote 184: Ellis, _Tour through Hawaii_, p. 429 _sq._ Ellis, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 225 (Dahomans). Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, p. 73. Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 91. _Laws of Æthelbirht_, 4, 9 (Anglo-Saxons).] [Footnote 185: Hardy, _Manual of Budhism_, p. 483.] Among uncivilised races intra-tribal theft is carefully distinguished from extra-tribal theft. Whilst the former is forbidden, the latter is commonly allowed, and robbery committed on a stranger is an object of praise.[186] [Footnote 186: _Cf._ Tylor, 'Primitive Society,' in _Contemporary Review_, xxi. 715 _sq._; _Anthropology_, p. 413 _sq._] The Tehuelches of Patagonia, "although honest enough as regards each other, will, nevertheless, not scruple to steal from any one not belonging to their party."[187] The Abipones, who never took anything from their own countrymen, "used to rob and murder the Spaniards whilst they thought them their enemies."[188] Among the Mbayás the law, Thou shalt not steal, "applies only to tribesmen and {21} allies, not to strangers and enemies."[189] The high standard of honesty which prevailed among the North American Indians did not refer to foreigners, especially white men, whom they thought it no shame to rob or cheat.[190] "A theft from an individual of another band," says Colonel Dodge, "is no crime. A theft from one of the same band is the greatest of all crimes."[191] Among the Californian Indians, for instance, who are proverbially honest in their own neighbourhood, "a stranger in the gates who seems to be friendless may lose the very blankets off him in the night."[192] Among the Ahts thieving "is a common vice where the property of other tribes, or white men, is concerned."[193] Of the Dacotahs we read that, though the men think it undignified for them to steal even from white people, "they send their wives thus unlawfully to procure what they want."[194] Of the Greenlanders the old missionary Egede writes:--"If they can lay hands upon any thing belonging to us foreigners, they make no great scruple of conscience about it. But, as we now have lived some time in the country amongst them, and are look'd upon as true inhabitants of the land, they at last have forborne to molest us any more that way."[195] Another early authority states, "If they can purloin or even forcibly seize the property of a foreigner, it is a feather in their cap";[196] and, according to Dr. Nansen, it is still held by the Greenlanders "to be far less objectionable to rob Europeans than their own fellow-countrymen."[197] Many travellers have complained of the pilfering tendencies of Eskimo tribes with whom they have come into contact.[198] Richardson believes that, in the opinion of an Eskimo, "to steal boldly and adroitly from a stranger is an act of heroism."[199] Of the Eskimo about Behring Strait Mr. Nelson writes:--"Stealing from people of the same village or tribe is regarded as wrong. . . . To steal from a stranger or from people of another tribe is not considered wrong so long as it does not bring trouble on the community."[200] [Footnote 187: Musters, _op. cit._ p. 195.] [Footnote 188: Dobrizhoffer, _op. cit._ ii. 148.] [Footnote 189: Tylor, in _Contemporary Review_, xxi. 716.] [Footnote 190: _Ibid._ p. 716.] [Footnote 191: Dodge, _op. cit._ p. 79.] [Footnote 192: Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 410 _sq._] [Footnote 193: Sproat, _op. cit._ p. 159. _Cf._ Macfie, _Vancouver Island and British Columbia_, p. 468.] [Footnote 194: Eastman, _Dacotah_, p. xvii.] [Footnote 195: Egede, _op. cit._ p. 124 _sq._] [Footnote 196: Cranz, _op. cit._ i. 175. See also Dalager, _op. cit._ p. 69.] [Footnote 197: Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 335 _sq._ _Cf._ _Idem_, _Eskimo Life_, p. 159 _sq._] [Footnote 198: Murdoch, 'Ethnological Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 41. Seemann, _Voyage of "Herald,"_ ii. 65; Armstrong, _Discovery of the North-West Passage_, p. 196 (Western Eskimo).] [Footnote 199: Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, i. 352.] [Footnote 200: Nelson, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 293.] {22} The Chukchi[201] and Koriaks[202] consider theft reputable or glorious if committed on a stranger, though criminal if committed in their own communities. The hill people of the Central Provinces of India, whilst observant of the rights of property among themselves, do not scruple to plunder those to whom they are under no obligation of fidelity.[203] The Bataks of Sumatra, who hardly ever steal among themselves, are expert at pilfering from strangers when not restrained by the laws of hospitality, and think it no moral offence to do so.[204] Other tribes in the Malay Archipelago likewise hold it allowable to plunder the same stranger or traveller who, when forlorn and destitute, would find a hospitable reception among them.[205] "The strict honesty," says Mr. Melville, "which the inhabitants of nearly all the Polynesian Islands manifest towards each other is in striking contrast with the thieving propensities some of them evince in their intercourse with foreigners. It would almost seem that, according to their peculiar code of morals, the pilfering of a hatchet or a wrought nail from a European is looked upon as a praiseworthy action. Or rather, it may be presumed, that, bearing in mind the wholesale forays made upon them by their nautical visitors, they consider the property of the latter as a fair object of reprisal."[206] In Fiji theft is regarded as no offence at all when practised on a foreigner.[207] The Savage Islanders consider theft from a tribesman a vice, but theft from a member of another tribe a virtue.[208] Of the Sandwich Islanders, again, we are told that they stole from rich strangers on board well loaded ships, whereas Europeans settled among them left their doors and shops unlocked without apprehension.[209] Speaking of the honesty of the Herbert River natives, Northern Queensland, Mr. Lumholtz adds:--"It is, of course, solely among members of the same tribe that there is so great a difference between mine and thine; strange tribes look upon each other as wild beasts."[210] The aborigines of West Australia "would not consider the act of pillaging base when practised on another people, or carried on beyond the limits of their own tribe."[211] [Footnote 201: Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 183.] [Footnote 202: _Ibid._ iii. 170. Krasheninnikoff, _op. cit._ p. 232.] [Footnote 203: Hislop, _op. cit._ p. 1.] [Footnote 204: Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 389.] [Footnote 205: Crawfurd, _op. cit._ i. 72.] [Footnote 206: Melville, _Typee_, p. 295, n. 1. See also Williams, _Missionary Enterprises_, p. 530 (Samoans); Hale, _op. cit._ p. 73 (Micronesians).] [Footnote 207: Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 110.] [Footnote 208: Thomson, _Savage Island_, p. 94.] [Footnote 209: von Kotzebue, _op. cit._ iii. 255.] [Footnote 210: Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 148.] [Footnote 211: Chauncy, in Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ ii. 278 _sq._] Among the For tribe of Central Africa "it is not considered {23} right to rob strangers, but the chiefs wink at this offence, and the stranger runs but a poor chance of obtaining justice."[212] Of the Mandingoes Caillié observes that, while they do not steal from each other, "their probity with respect to others is very equivocal and in particular towards strangers, who would be very imprudent to shew them any thing that might tempt their cupidity."[213] When an Eastern Central African is plundered by a companion, he may be heard exclaiming, "If you had stolen from a white man, then I could have understood it, but to steal from a black man----."[214] Among the Masai the warriors and old men have a profound contempt for a thief, but "cattle-raiding from neighbouring tribes they do not consider stealing."[215] The Wafiomi[216] and Shilluk[217] regard theft or robbery committed on a stranger as a praiseworthy action, though they never or rarely practise it on members of their own people. The Barea and Kunáma[218] and the inhabitants of Saraë[219] consider it honourable for a man to rob an enemy of his tribe. The Kabyles of Djurdjura, who demand strict mutual honesty from members of the same village, see nothing wrong in stealing from a stranger.[220] Among the Bedouins "travellers passing without proper escort from or introduction to the tribes, may expect to lose their beasts, goods, clothes, and all they possess. There is no kind of shame attached to such acts of rapine. . . . By desert law, the act of passing through the desert entails forfeiture of goods to whoever can seize them."[221] Indeed, the Arab is proud of robbing his enemies, and of bringing away by stealth what he could not have taken by open force.[222] The Ossetes "distinguent . . . le vol commis au préjudice d'une personne étrangère à la famille, et le vol commis au préjudice d'un parent. Le premier, à proprement parler, n'est pas un acte criminel; le second, au contraire, est tenu pour un délit."[223] [Footnote 212: Felkin, 'Notes on the For Tribe of Central Africa,' in _Proceed. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh_, xiii. 234.] [Footnote 213: Caillié, _op. cit._ i. 353. _Cf._ Mungo Park, _op. cit._ p. 239 _sq._] [Footnote 214: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 182.] [Footnote 215: Hinde, _op. cit._ p. 104. _Cf._ Johnston, _Kilima-njaro Expedition_, p. 419.] [Footnote 216: Baumann, _Durch Massailand_, p. 179.] [Footnote 217: Petherick, _Travels in Central Africa_, ii. 3. Beltrame, _Il Fiume Bianco_, p. 83.] [Footnote 218: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 531.] [Footnote 219: _Ibid._ p. 386.] [Footnote 220: Kobelt, _Reiseerinnerungen aus Algerien und Tunis_, p. 223.] [Footnote 221: Blunt, _op. cit._ ii. 204 _sq._] [Footnote 222: Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 90.] [Footnote 223: Kovalewsky, _Coutume contemporaine_, p. 343.] Similar views prevailed among the ancient Teutons. "Robberies," says Caesar, "which are committed beyond {24} the boundaries of each state bear no infamy, and they avow that these are committed for the purpose of disciplining their youth and of preventing sloth."[224] The same was the case with the Highlanders of Scotland until they were brought into subjection after the rebellion of 1745.[225] "Regarding every Lowlander as an alien, and his cattle as fair spoil of war," says Major-General Stewart, "they considered no law for his protection as binding. . . . Yet, except against the Lowlanders or a hostile clan, these freebooters maintained, in general, the strictest honesty towards one another, and inspired confidence in their integrity. . . . In the interior of their own society all property was safe, without the usual security of bolts, bars, and locks."[226] In the Commentary to the Irish Senchus Mór it is stated that, whilst an ordinary thief loses his full honour-price at once, committing theft in another territory deprives a person of only half his honour-price, until it is committed the third time.[227] Throughout the Middle Ages all Europe seems to have tacitly agreed that foreigners were created for the purpose of being robbed.[228] In the thirteenth century there were still several places in France in which a stranger who fixed his residence for a year and a day became the serf of the lord of the manor.[229] In England, till upwards of two centuries after the Conquest, foreign merchants were considered only as sojourners coming to a fair or market, and were obliged to employ their landlords as brokers to buy and sell their commodities; and one stranger was often arrested for the debt, or punished for the misdemeanour, of another.[230] In a later age the old habit of oppression was still so strong that, when the State suddenly wanted a sum of money, it seemed quite natural that foreigners should be called upon to {25} provide a part of it.[231] The custom of seizing the goods of persons who had been shipwrecked, and of confiscating them as the property of the lord on whose manor they were thrown, seems to have been universal;[232] and in some European countries the laws even permitted the inhabitants of maritime provinces to reduce to servitude people who were shipwrecked on their coast.[233] The sea laws of Oléron, which probably date from the twelfth century, tell us that in many places shipwrecked sailors meet with people more inhuman, barbarous, and cruel than mad dogs, who slaughter those unhappy mariners in order to obtain possession of their money, clothes, and other property.[234] In the latter part of the Middle Ages attempts were incessantly made by sovereigns and councils to abolish this ancient right, so far as Christian sailors were concerned,[235] whereas the robbing of shipwrecked infidels was not prohibited.[236] But for a long time these endeavours were far from being successful;[237] and it was even argued that, as shipwrecks were punishments sent by God, it was impious to be merciful to the victims.[238] [Footnote 224: Caesar, _De bello Gallico_, vi. 23.] [Footnote 225: Tylor, in _Contemporary Review_, xxi. 716.] [Footnote 226: Stewart, _Sketches of the Character, &c., of the Highlanders of Scotland_, p. 42 _sq._] [Footnote 227: _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, i. 57.] [Footnote 228: _Cf._ Marshall, _International Vanities_, p. 285.] [Footnote 229: Beaumanoir, _Les coutumes du Beauvoisis_, xlv. 19, vol. ii. p. 226.] [Footnote 230: Chitty, _Treatise on the Laws of Commerce and Manufactures_, i. 131 _Cf._ Cibrario, _Della economia politica del medio eve_, i. 192.] [Footnote 231: See Marshall, _International Vanities_, p. 291 _sq._] [Footnote 232: Du Cange, _Glossarium ad scriptores mediæ et infimæ Latinitatis_, iv. 22 _sq._ Robertson, _History of the Reign of Charles V._ i. 395.] [Footnote 233: Du Cange, _op. cit._ iv. 23 _sq._ Cleffelius, _Antiquitates Germanorum potissimum septentrionalium_, x. 4, p. 362. Dreyer, _Specimen juris publici Lubecensis_, p. cxcii. Potgiesser, _Commentarii juris Germanici de statu servorum_, i. i. 17, p. 18 _sq._] [Footnote 234: _Ancient Sea-Laws of Oleron_, art. 30, p. 11.] [Footnote 235: Du Cange, _op. cit._ iv. 24 _sqq._ Pardessus, _Collection de lois maritimes_, ii. p. cxv. _sqq._; iii. p. clxxix. von Eicken, _Geschichte und System der mittelalterlichen Weltanschauung_, p. 569 _sqq._ _Constitutiones Neapolitanæ sive Siculæ_, i. 28. _Concilium Romanum IV._ A.D. 1078 (Labbe-Mansi, _Sacrorum Conciliorum collectio_, xx. 505 _sq._).] [Footnote 236: Laurent, _Études sur l'histoire de l'humanité_, vii. 323, 413 n. 3. von Eicken, _op. cit._ p. 570.] [Footnote 237: Pardessus, _op. cit._ ii. p. cxv. Laurent, _op. cit._ vii. 314. Marshall, _International Vanities_, pp. 287, 295.] [Footnote 238: von Eicken, _op. cit._ p. 570 _sq._] The readiness with which wars are waged, and the destruction of property held legitimate in warfare, are other instances of the little regard felt for the proprietary rights of foreigners. Grotius maintained that "such ravage is tolerable as in a short time reduces the enemy to seek peace";[239] and in the practice of his time devastation was {26} constantly used independently of any immediate military advantage accruing from it.[240] In the eighteenth century the alliance of devastation with strategical objects became more close, but it was still regarded as an independent means of attack by Wolff,[241] Vattel,[242] and others;[243] and even at the beginning of the nineteenth century instances of devastation of a not necessary kind occasionally occurred.[244] In later days opinion has decisively laid down that the measure of permissible devastation is to be found in the strict necessities of war.[245] Yet there is an exception to this rule: during the siege of a fortified town custom still permits the houses of the town itself to be bombarded, with a view to inducing the commandant to surrender on account of the misery suffered by the inhabitants.[246] Under the old customs of war a belligerent possessed a right to seize and appropriate all property belonging to a hostile state or its subjects, of whatever kind it might be and in any place where acts of war were permissible.[247] Subsequently this extreme right has been tempered by usage, and in a few directions it has disappeared.[248] Thus the principle proclaimed, but not always acted on, by the Revolutionary Government of France, that private property should be respected on a hostile as on a friendly soil,[249] is favoured by present opinion and usage,[250] and pillage by the soldiers of an invading army is expressly forbidden.[251] At the same time there is unfortunately no {27} doubt that in all wars pillage does continue with impunity;[252] and we sometimes hear of a captured town being sacked, and the houses of the inhabitants being plundered, on the plea that it was impossible for the general to restrain his soldiers.[253] Moreover, private property taken from the enemy on the field of battle, in the operations of a siege, or in the storming of a place which refuses to capitulate, is usually regarded as legitimate spoils of war.[254] Military contributions and requisitions are levied upon the inhabitants of the hostile territory.[255] And whilst the progress of civilisation has slowly tended to soften the extreme severity of the operations of war by land, it still remains unrelaxed in respect to maritime warfare, the private property of the enemy taken at sea or afloat in port being indiscriminately liable to capture and confiscation. In justification of this it is said that the object of maritime wars is the destruction of the enemy's commerce and navigation, and that this object can only be attained by the seizure of private property.[256] [Footnote 239: Grotius, _De jure belli et pacis_, iii. 12. 1. 3.] [Footnote 240: Hall, _Treatise on International Law_, p. 533.] [Footnote 241: Wolff, _Jus Gentium_, §823, p. 300.] [Footnote 242: Vattel, _Le droit des gens_, iii. 9. 167, vol. ii. 76 _sq._] [Footnote 243: Hall, _op. cit._ p. 533 _sq._] [Footnote 244: _Ibid._ p. 534 _sq._] [Footnote 245: _Ibid._ p. 535. Bluntschli, _Le droit international_, §663, p. 385. Heffter, _Das europäische Völkerrecht_, §125, p. 262. Wheaton, _Elements of International Law_, p. 473. _Conférence de Bruxelles_, art. 13, _g_. _Conférence internationale de la paix, La Haye_ 1899, 'Règlement concernant les lois et coutumes de la guerre sur terre,' art. 23 _g_, pt. i. 245.] [Footnote 246: Hall, _op. cit._ p. 536 _sq._] [Footnote 247: Grotius, _op. cit._ iii. 6. 2. Hall, _op. cit._ pp. 417, 438.] [Footnote 248: Hall, _op. cit._ p. 419 _sqq._] [Footnote 249: Bernard, 'Growth of Laws and Usages of War,' in _Oxford Essays_, 1856, p. 109.] [Footnote 250: _Conférence de Bruxelles_, art. 38. _Instructions for the Government of Armies of the United States in the Field_, art. 37. _Conférence de La Haye_, 'Règlement concernant la guerre sur terre,' art. 46, pt. i. 248. Hall, _op. cit._ p. 441. Geffken, in Heffter, _op. cit._ §140, p. 297, n. 5.] [Footnote 251: _Conférence de Bruxelles_, art. 39. _Instructions of the United States_, art. 44. _Conférence de La Haye_, 'Règlement concernant la guerre sur terre,' art. 28, 47, pt. i. 246, 248.] [Footnote 252: Maine, _International Law_, p. 199. Halleck, _International Law_, ii. 73, note.] [Footnote 253: Halleck, _op. cit._ ii. 32. If we may believe Garcilasso de la Vega (_First Part of the Royal Commentaries of the Yncas_, i. 151) the officers of the Incas in ancient Peru were more humane, never allowing the pillage of a captured town.] [Footnote 254: Halleck, _op. cit._ ii. 73 _sq._ Wheaton, _op. cit._ p. 467.] [Footnote 255: Wheaton, _op. cit._ p. 467. Hall, _op. cit._ p. 427 _sqq._ _Conférence de La Haye_, 'Règlement concernant la guerre sur terre,' art. 49, 52, pt. i. 248.] [Footnote 256: Wheaton, _op. cit._ p. 483. Twiss, _Law of Nations_, p. 141. Heffter, _op. cit._ §137, p. 287. Hall, _op. cit._ p. 443 _sqq._] Not only does the respect in which the right of property is held vary according to the _status_ of the owner, but in many instances certain persons are deemed incapable of possessing such a right. The father's power over his children may imply that the latter, even when grown-up, have no property of their own, the father having a right to the disposal of their earnings. This is the case among some African peoples,[257] and the {28} Kandhs of India.[258] In the Laws of Manu, the mythical legislator of the Hindus, it is said, "A wife, a son, and a slave, these three are declared to have no property; the wealth they earn is acquired for him to whom they belong."[259] But according to the standard commentators this only means that the persons mentioned are unable to dispose of their property independently;[260] and it is expressly stipulated that property acquired by learning belongs exclusively to the person to whom it was given, and so also the gift of a friend.[261] In Rome the _peculium_, or separate property, allowed to a son was originally subject to the authority of the house-father, should he choose to exercise such authority; and it was only by very late legislation that sons were secured the independent holding of their _peculium_.[262] Even now it is the law in many European countries that, during the minority of a child, the father or mother has the usufruct of its property, with the exception of certain kinds of property expressly specified.[263] [Footnote 257: Sarbah, _Fanti Customary Laws_, p. 51. Kraft, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 285 (Wapokomo). Munzinger, _Ueber die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 36. Among the Barea and Kunáma a man's earnings belong to his father until he builds a house for himself, that is, until he marries (Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 477). Among the Basutos parents can deprive their sons of their earnings at pleasure (Endemann, 'Mittheilungen über die Sotho-Neger,' in _Zeitschr. f. Ethnol._ vi. 39).] [Footnote 258: Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 62.] [Footnote 259: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 416. See also _Nárada_, v. 41.] [Footnote 260: Buehler, in his translation of the Laws of Manu, _Sacred Books of the East_, xxv. 326, n. 416.] [Footnote 261: _Laws of Manu_, ix. 206.] [Footnote 262: Hunter, _Exposition of Roman Law_, p. 292 _sqq._ Maine, _Dissertations on Early Law and Custom_, p. 252. Girard, _Manuel élémentaire de droit romain_, pp. 135, 138 _sqq._] [Footnote 263: Bridel, _Le droit des femmes et le mariage_, p. 156.] Among some uncivilised peoples women are said to be incapable of holding property;[264] but this is certainly not the rule among savage tribes, not even among the very lowest. When Mr. Snow wished to buy a canoe from some Fuegians, his request was refused on the ground that the object in question belonged to an old woman, who would not part with it;[265] and among the blacks of Australia Mr. Curr has often heard husbands ask permission of their wives to take something out of their bags.[266] There are instances in which the property owned by a {29} woman is by marriage transferred to her husband;[267] but more commonly, it seems, the wife remains mistress of her own property during the existence of the marriage relation.[268] Among many savages considerable proprietary privileges are granted to the female sex. We have seen that the household goods are frequently regarded as the special property of the wife.[269] Among the Navahos of New Mexico everything, except horses and cattle, practically belongs to the married women.[270] Among the Kafirs of Natal, "when a man takes his first wife, all the cows he possesses are regarded as her property," and the husband can, theoretically, neither sell nor otherwise dispose of them without his wife's consent.[271] The Mandans of North America have a custom that all the horses which a young man steals or captures in war belong to his sisters.[272] Among the Koch of India, we are told, "the men are so gallant as to have made over all property to the women."[273] As regards woman's right of ownership, nations of a higher culture compare unfavourably with many savages. In Japan the husband formerly had full rights over the property of his wife.[274] We have already noticed the disabilities in point of ownership to which women were once subject in India; but the development of _str[=i]dhana_, or _peculium_ of the female members of a family, shows that they gradually became less dependent on their husbands in {30} matters relating to property.[275] Among the ancient Hebrews women appear to have been in every respect regarded as minors so far as proprietary rights were concerned.[276] In Rome a marriage with _conventio in manum_, which was the regular form of marriage in early times, gave the husband a right to all the property which the wife had when she married, and entitled him to all she might acquire afterwards whether by gift or by her own labour.[277] Later on marriage without _manus_ became the ordinary Roman marriage, and this, together with the downfall of the ancient _patria potestas_, led to the result that finally all the wife's property was practically under her own control, save when a part of it had been converted by settlement into a fund for contributing to the expenses of the conjugal household.[278] But, as we have noticed in another place, the new religion was not favourable to the remarkable liberty granted to married women during the pagan Empire;[279] and the combined influence of Teutonic custom and Canon law led to those proprietary incapacities of wives which up to quite recent times have disfigured the lawbooks of Christian Europe.[280] In England, before 1857, even a man who had abandoned his wife and left her unaided to support his family might at any time return to appropriate her earnings and to sell everything she had acquired, and he might again and again desert her, and again and again repeat the process of spoliation. In 1870 a law was passed securing to women the legal control of their own earnings, but all other female property, with some insignificant exceptions, was left absolutely unprotected. And it was not until the Married Women's {31} Property Act of 1882 that a full right to their own property was given to English wives.[281] [Footnote 264: Nassau, _Fetichism in West Africa_, p. 13 (tribes of the Cameroons). Marshall, _A Phrenologist amongst the Todas_, p. 206. Waitz, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, iii. 129 (some Indian tribes of North America).] [Footnote 265: Snow, 'Wild Tribes of Tierra del Fuego,' in _Jour. Ethn. Soc. London_, N.S. i. 264.] [Footnote 266: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 66.] [Footnote 267: Mason, in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxxvii. pt. ii. 142 (Karens). Sumner, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 94 (Jakuts). Post, _Studien zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 291.] [Footnote 268: von den Steinen, _Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens_, p. 330 (Bakaïri). Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 326. Lala, _Philippine Islands_, p. 91. Hagen, _Unter den Papua's_, pp. 226, 243 (Papuans of Bogadjim, Kaiser Wilhelm Land). Kubary, 'Die Palau-Inseln in der Südsee,' in _Jour. des Museum Godeffroy_, iv. 54. Ratzel, _History of Mankind_, i. 279 (various South Sea Islanders). Kingsley, _West African Studies_, p. 373. Bosman, _op. cit._ p. 172 (Gold Coast natives). Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 298. Sarbah, _Fanti Customary Laws_, p. 5. Lang, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 223 (Washambala). Burton, _Lake Regions of Central Africa_, ii. 25 (Wanyamwezi). Post, _Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 292 _sqq._] [Footnote 269: _Supra_, i. 637 _sqq._] [Footnote 270: Mindeleff, 'Navaho Houses,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xvii. 485.] [Footnote 271: Shooter, _Kafirs of Natal_, p. 84.] [Footnote 272: Wied-Neuwied, _Travels in the Interior of North America_, p. 350.] [Footnote 273: Buchanan, quoted by Hodgson, _Miscellaneous Essays_, i. 110.] [Footnote 274: Rein, _Japan_, p. 424.] [Footnote 275: Jolly, 'Recht und Sitte,' in Buehler, _Grundriss der indo-arischen Philologie_, ii. 78, 79, 87 _sqq._ Kohler, 'Indisches Ehe- und Familienrecht,' in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ iii. 424 _sqq._] [Footnote 276: Benzinger, 'Law and Justice,' in Cheyne and Black, _Encyclopædia Biblica_, iii. 2724.] [Footnote 277: Hunter, _Roman Law_, p. 295. Maine, _Early History of Institutions_, p. 312. Bryce, _Studies in History and Jurisprudence_, ii. 387. Girard, _op. cit._ p. 163.] [Footnote 278: Hunter, _Roman Law_, p. 295 _sqq._ Maine, _Early History of Institutions_, p. 317 _sqq._ Friedlaender, _Darstellungen aus der Sittengeschichte Roms_, i. 252. Girard, _op. cit._ p. 164.] [Footnote 279: _Supra_, i. 653 _sq._] [Footnote 280: Maine, _Ancient Law_, p. 157 _sqq._] [Footnote 281: Lecky, _Democracy and Liberty_, ii. 536 _sq._ Cleveland, _Woman under the English Law_, p. 279 _sqq._ For the laws of other European countries see Bridel, _op. cit._ p. 61 _sqq._, and for the history of the subject see Gide. _Étude sur la condition de la femme_, _passim_.] A third class of persons who in many cases are considered incapable of holding property of their own is the slave class.[282] It may indeed be asked whether a slave ever has the right of ownership in the full sense of the term. Yet slaves are frequently said to be owners of property; and though this "ownership" may have originally been a mere privilege granted to them by their masters and subject to withdrawal at the discretion of the latter,[283] it is undoubtedly in several cases a genuine right guaranteed by custom. Among the Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush, if the slaves work for others, they do not hand the wages over to their masters, but keep the pay themselves.[284] In Africa, in particular, it is a common thing for slaves to have private property;[285] in Southern Guinea there are slaves who are wealthier than their masters.[286] In some African countries, as we have seen, the slave is obliged to work for his master only on certain days of the week or a certain number of hours, and has the rest of his time free.[287] So also in ancient Mexico the slave was allowed a certain amount of time to labour for his own advantage.[288] A Babylonian slave had his _peculium_, of which, at least under normal circumstances, he was in safe possession.[289] In Rome anything {32} a slave acquired was legally his master's; but he was in practice permitted to enjoy and accumulate chance earnings or savings or a share of what he produced, which was regarded not as his property in the full sense of the term, but as his _peculium_.[290] In the Middle Ages slaves, and in many instances serfs also, were, strictly speaking, destitute of proprietary rights.[291] In England it was held that whatever was acquired by a villein was acquired by his lord. At the same time his chattels did not _eo ipso_ lapse into the lord's possession, but only if the latter actually seized them; and if he for some reason or other refrained from doing so the villein was practically their owner in respect of all persons but his lord.[292] In the British and French colonies and the American Slave States the negro slaves had no legal rights of property in things real or personal.[293] According to the laws of Georgia, masters must not permit their slaves to labour for their own benefit, at a penalty of thirty dollars for every such weekly offence;[294] and in other States they were expressly forbidden to suffer their slaves to hire out themselves.[295] In some places, however, negro slaves might hold a _peculium_. In Arkansas a statute was passed granting masters the right of allowing their slaves to do work on their own behalf on Sundays;[296] and in the British colonies Sunday was made a marketing day for the slaves so as to encourage them to labour for themselves.[297] In the Civil Code of Louisiana {33} it is said that the slave "possesses nothing of his own, except his _peculium_, that is to say, the sum of money, or movable estate, which his master chooses he should possess."[298] The Spanish and Portuguese slave laws were more humane. According to them the money and effects which a slave acquired by his labour at times set apart for his own use or by any other means, were legally his own and could not be seized by the master.[299] [Footnote 282: Post, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 370, 381. Holmberg, in _Acta Soc. Scientiarum Fennicæ_, iv. 330 _sq._ (Thlinkets). Kohler, 'Recht der Marschallinsulaner,' in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xiv. 428 _sq._ Volkens, _op. cit._ p. 249 (Wadshagga). Lang, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 241 (Washambala).] [Footnote 283: Nicole, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 119 (Diakité-Sarracolese). Senfft, _ibid._ p. 442 (Marshall Islanders).] [Footnote 284: Scott Robertson, _op. cit._ p. 100.] [Footnote 285: Kingsley, _West African Studies_, p. 366. Ellis, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 219. Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 43 (Banaka and Bapuku). Tellier, _ibid._ pp. 169, 171 (Kreis Kita). Baskerville, _ibid._ p. 193 (Waganda). Beverley, _ibid._ p. 213 (Wagogo). Dale, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxv. 230 (Wabondei). Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 43. _Idem_, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 309 _sq._ (Beni Amer).] [Footnote 286: Wilson, _Western Africa_, p. 271.] [Footnote 287: _Supra_, i. 677.] [Footnote 288: Bancroft, _op. cit._ ii. 221.] [Footnote 289: Kohler and Peiser, _Aus dem babylonischen Rechtsleben_, i. i. See also _supra_, i. 684.] [Footnote 290: _Digesta_, xv. 1. 39. Wallon, _Histoire de l'esclavage dans l'antiquité_, ii. 181 _sq._ Ingrain, _History of Slavery_, p. 44. Hunter, _Roman Law_, pp. 157, 290 _sq._ Girard, _op. cit._ p. 95.] [Footnote 291: _Supra_, i. 697. Guérard, _Cartulaire de l'Abbaye de Saint-Père de Chartres_, i. p. xlvii.] [Footnote 292: Vinogradoff, _Villainage in England_, p.67 _sq._ Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ i. 416, 419.] [Footnote 293: Stephen, _Slavery of the British West India Colonies_, i. 58. _Code Noir_, Édit du mois de Mars 1685, art. 28, p. 42 _sq._; Édit donné au mois de Mars 1724, art. 22, p. 295 _sq._ Stroud, _Sketch of the Laws relating to Slavery in the several States of the United States of America_, p. 74. Goodell, _American Slave Code_, p. 89 _sqq._] [Footnote 294: Prince, _Digest of the Laws of Georgia_, p. 788.] [Footnote 295: Caruthers and Nicholson, _Compilation of the Statutes of Tennessee_, 675. Alden and van Hoesen, _Digest of the Laws of Mississippi_, p. 751. Morehead and Brown, _Digest of the Statute Laws of Kentucky_, ii. 1480 _sq._] [Footnote 296: Ball and Roane, _Revised Statutes of Arkansas_, xliv. 7. 2. 8, p. 276 _sq._] [Footnote 297: Edwards, _History of the British West Indies_, ii. 181.] [Footnote 298: Morgan, _Civil Code of Louisiana_, art. 175.] [Footnote 299: Stephen, _op. cit._ i. 60. Couty, _L'esclavage au Brésil_, p. 9.] Among many peoples, finally, we find the theory that nobody but the chief or king has proprietary rights, and that it is only by his sufferance that his subjects hold their possessions.[300] The soil, in particular, is regarded as his.[301] But even autocrats are tied by custom,[302] and in practice the right of ownership is not denied to their subjects. [Footnote 300: Butler, _Travels in Assam_, p. 94 (Kukis). Beecham, _Ashantee_, p. 96. Spencer, _Descriptive Sociology_, African Races, p. 12 (Abyssinians). Decle, _op. cit._ p. 70 _sqq._ (Barotse). Kidd, _The Essential Kafir_, p. 353. Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 342. Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 171. Percy Smith, 'Uea, Western Pacific,' in _Jour. Polynesian Soc._ i. 112. Tregear, 'Easter Island,' _ibid._ i. 99. In Samoa it is a maxim that a chief cannot steal; he is merely considered to "take" the thing which he covets (Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, p. 104). In Uea, when a chief enters a house, he enjoys the right to take all in it that he pleases (Percy Smith, in _Jour. Polynesian Soc._ i. 113). Among the Kafirs no case can be brought against a chief for theft, except if it be committed on the property of a person belonging to another tribe; and even the children of chiefs are permitted to steal from their own people (Brownlee, in Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 112 _sq._ Trollope, _South Africa_, ii. 303. Holden, _Past and Future of the Kaffir Races_, p. 338).] [Footnote 301: Waitz, _op. cit._ iii. 128 (Indian tribes of North America); v. pt. i. 153 (Malays). Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, iii. 115 (Sandwich Islanders). Bory de St. Vincent, _Essais sur les Isles Fortunées_, p. 64 (Guanches). Nicole, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 136 (Diakité-Sarracolese). Baskerville, _ibid._ p. 201 (Waganda). Beverley, _ibid._ p. 216 (Wagogo). Lang, _ibid._ p. 262 (Washambala). Rautanen, _ibid._ p. 343 (Ondonga). Stuhlmann, _Mit Emin Pasha ins Herz von Africa_, p. 75 (Wanyamwezi). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 170 _sq._; Ratzel, _op. cit._ i. 126; de Laveleye-Bücher, _Das Ureigenthum_, p. 275 (various African peoples). Kohler, _Rechtsvergleichende Studien_, p. 235 (Kandian law). Giles, _Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio_, ii. 369, n. 21 (Chinese).] [Footnote 302: _Supra_, i. 162.] In the next chapter we shall try to explain all these facts:--the existence of proprietary rights, the refusal of such rights to certain classes of persons, the different {34} degrees of condemnation attending theft under different circumstances. But before we can understand the psychological origin of the right of ownership and the regard in which it is held, it is necessary to examine the methods by which it is acquired, the external facts which give to certain individuals a right to the exclusive disposal of certain things. CHAPTER XXIX THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY (_concluded_) ACCORDING to an old theory set forth by Roman jurists, and afterwards much emphasised by Grotius,[1] the original mode of acquisition is occupation, that is, a person's taking possession of that which at the moment belongs to nobody (_res nullius_), with the intention of keeping it as his property. That occupation very largely, though by no means exclusively, is at the bottom of the right of ownership seems obvious enough, and it is only by means of strained constructions that Locke and others have been able to trace the origin of this right to labour alone.[2] The principle of occupation is illustrated by innumerable facts from all quarters of the world--by the hunter's right to the game which he has killed or captured;[3] by the nomad's or settler's right to the previously unoccupied place where {36} he has pitched his tent or built his dwelling;[4] by the agriculturist's right to the land of which he has taken possession by cultivating the soil;[5] by a tribe's or community's right to the territory which it has occupied.[6] Among the Kandhs of India "the right of possession of land is simply founded in the case of tribes upon priority of appropriation, and in the case of individuals upon priority of culture."[7] Among the Herero, "notwithstanding the loose notions generally entertained by them as to _meum_ and _tuum_, there is an understanding that he who arrives first at any given locality is the master of it as long as he chooses to remain there, and no one will intrude upon him without having previously asked and obtained his permission. The same," our authority adds, "is observed even with regard to strangers."[8] Again, among some of the Australian natives a man who had found a bees' nest and did not wish to rob it for some time, would mark the tree in some way or other, and "it was a crime to rob a nest thus indicated."[9] In Greenland anyone picking up pieces {37} of driftwood or goods lost at sea or on land was considered the rightful owner of them; and to make good his possession he had only to carry them up above high-water mark and put stones upon them, no matter where his homestead might be.[10] But the finder's right to the discovered article is not always restricted to objects which have no owner or the owner of which is unknown: in some instances his occupation of it makes it his property in all circumstances,[11] whilst in other cases he at any rate has a claim to part of its value.[12] Among the Hurons "every thing found, tho' it had been lost but a moment, belonged to the person that found it, provided the loser had not claimed it before."[13] The Kafirs "are not bound by their law to give up anything they may have found, which has been lost by some one else. The loser should have taken better care of his property, is their moral theory."[14] Among the Chippewyans any unsuccessful hunter passing by a trap where a deer is caught may take the animal, if only he leaves the head, skin, and saddle for the owner;[15] and among the Tunguses whoever finds a beast in another man's trap may take half the meat.[16] Among the Maoris boats or canoes which were cast adrift became the property of the captors. "Even a canoe . . . of friends and relatives upsetting off a village, and drifting on shore where a village was, became the property of the people of that village; although it might be that the people in the canoe had all got safely to land or were coming by special invitation to visit that very {38} village."[17] We have previously noticed the customary treatment of shipwrecked mariners in mediæval Europe. And another instance of occupation establishing a right of property in things which already have an owner is conquest or capture made in war. The Romans regarded spoils taken from an enemy as the most excellent kind of property.[18] [Footnote 1: Grotius, _De jure belli et pacis_, ii. 3. 3.] [Footnote 2: Locke, _Treatises of Government_, ii. 5. 27 _sqq._, p. 200 _sqq._ Thiers, _De la propriété_, p. 94 _sqq._ Hume remarks (_Treatise of Human Nature_, ii. 3 [_Philosophical Works_, ii. 276, n. 1]):--"There are several kinds of occupation, where we cannot be said to join our labour to the object we acquire; as when we possess a meadow by grazing our cattle upon it."] [Footnote 3: Curr, _Recollections of Squatting in Victoria_, p. 265 (Bangerang tribe). Murdoch, 'Ethnol. Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 428 (Point Barrow Eskimo). Ahlqvist, 'Unter Wogulen und Ostjaken,' in _Acta Soc. Scientiarum Fennicæ_, xiv. 166 (Voguls). Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 53 (Banaka and Bapuku). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 162 _sq._ Andree, 'Ethnogr. Bemerkungen zu einigen Rechtsgebräuchen,' in _Globus_, xxxviii. 287. Among some Indian **tribes of North America it was customary for individuals to mark their arrows, in order that the stricken game might fall to the man by whose arrow it had been despatched (Powell, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. p. lvii.).] [Footnote 4: von Martius, _Von dem Rechtszustande unter den Ureinwohnern Brasiliens_, p. 34 (Brazilian aborigines). Dalager, _Grønlandske Relationer_, p. 15; Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 109 (Greenlanders). Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, pp. 68, 244 (Rejangs). Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 53 (Banaka and Bapuku). Kraft, _ibid._ p. 293 (Wapokomo). Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, p. 487 (Wakamba). Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, pp. 95, 96, 143 (ancient Semitic custom and Muhammedan law).] [Footnote 5: Thomson, _Savage Island_, p. 137. Polack, _Manners and Customs of the New Zealanders_, ii. 69; Thomson, _Story of New Zealand_, i. 97. Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 69. Cruickshank, _Eighteen Years on the Gold Coast_, ii. 277. Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 24 (Bakwiri). _Ibid._ p. 53 (Banaka and Bapuku). Tellier, _ibid._ p. 178 (Kreis Kita). Dale, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxv. 230 (Wabondei). _Laws of Manu_, ix. 44. Wellhausen, _Reste arabischen Heidentums_, p. 108. Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, pp. 95, 96, 143 (ancient Semitic custom and Muhammedan law). Waitz, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, i. 440. Dargun, 'Ursprung und Entwicklungs-Geschichte des Eigenthums,' in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ v. 71 _sqq._ Post, _Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 283 _sqq._ _Idem_, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 342 _sqq._ See also _infra_, p. 39 _sq._] [Footnote 6: Thomson, _Story of New Zealand_, i. 96; Polack, _op. cit._ ii. 71 (Maoris), Mademba, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 90 (natives of the Sansanding States).] [Footnote 7: Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 62.] [Footnote 8: Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 115. See also Viehe, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 310. 12: Merker, _Die Masai_, p. 204. Desoignies, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 281 (Msalala). Post, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, ii. 605.] [Footnote 13: Charlevoix, _Voyage to North-America_, ii. 26 _sq._] [Footnote 14: Leslie, _Among the Zulus and Amatongas_, p. 202.] [Footnote 15: Schoolcraft, _Archives of Aboriginal Knowledge_, v. 177.] [Footnote 16: Ratzel, _History of Mankind_, ii. 226.] [Footnote 17: Colenso, _Maori Races of New Zealand_, p. 34. Polack, _op. cit._ p. 68 _sq._] [Footnote 18: "Maxima sua esse credebant quae ab hostibus cepissent" (quoted by Ahrens, _Naturrecht_, ii. 137).] The occupation of a thing may take place in various ways. Hegel says that "taking possession is partly the simple bodily grasp, partly the forming and partly the marking or designating of the object."[19] But there are still other methods of occupation, in which the bodily contact with the object is involuntary, or in which there is no bodily contact at all. Among the Maoris a man acquired a peculiar right to land "by having been born on it (or, in their expressive language, 'where his navel-string was cut'), as his first blood (ever sacred in their eyes) had been shed there";[20] or, generally, "by having had his blood shed upon it"; or "by having had the body, or bones, of his deceased father, or mother, or uterine brother or sister, deposited or resting on it"; or "by having had a near relative killed, or roasted on it, or a portion of his body stuck up or thrown away upon it."[21] Among many peoples an animal belongs entirely or chiefly to the person who first wounded it, {39} however slightly,[22] or who first saw it,[23] even though it was killed by somebody else. Thus among the Greenlanders, if a seal or some other sea-animal escapes with the javelin sticking in it, and is afterwards killed, it belongs to him who threw the first dart;[24] if a bear is killed, it belongs to him who first discovered it;[25] and when a whale is taken, the very spectators have an equal right to it with the harpooners.[26] [Footnote 19: Hegel, _Grundlinien der Philosophie des Rechts_, § 54, p. 54; English translation, p. 59.] [Footnote 20: Of certain tribes of Western Victoria we are likewise told that, "should a child of another family have been born on the estate, it is looked upon as one of the family, and it has an equal right with them to a share of the land, if it has attained the age of six months at the death of the proprietor" (Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 7). The Rev. John Bulmer (quoted by Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, i. 146) testifies the prevalence of such a birth-right among the Murray tribes, and suspects it is common to most of the tribes of Australia:--"The fact that an aboriginal is born in a certain locality constitutes a right to that part, and it would be considered a breach of privilege for any one to hunt over it without his permission. Should another black have been born in the same place, he, with the former, would have a joint right to the land. Otherwise, no native seems to have made a claim to any particular portion of the territory of his tribe." _Cf._ Schurtz, _Die Anfänge des Landbesitzes_, in _Zeitschr. f. Socialwissenschaft_, iii. 357 _sqq._] [Footnote 21: Colenso, _op. cit._ p. 31. See also Polack, _op. cit._ ii. 82.] [Footnote 22: Dalager, _op. cit._ p. 24 _sq._ (Greenlanders). Boas, 'Central Eskimo,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ vi. 582. Dall, _Alaska_, p. 394 (Aleuts). Ratzel, _op. cit._ Bourke, _Snake-Dance of the Moquis_, ii. 227 (Asiatic Hyperboreans). Campbell, _Second Journey in the Interior of South Africa_, ii. 212 (Bechuanas). Livingstone, _Missionary Travels_, p. 599 (natives of South Africa), von Heuglin, _Reise nach Abessinien_, p. 290 _sq._ (Woitos). _Laws of Manu_, ix. 44. Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 163. _Idem_, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, ii. 707 _sq._ Andree, in _Globus_, xxxviii. 287 _sq._] [Footnote 23: Boas, 'Central Eskimo,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ vi. 582. Ratzel, _op. cit._ ii. 227 (Asiatic Hyperboreans). See also Semper, _Die Palau-Inseln_, p. 86.] [Footnote 24: Dalager, _op. cit._ p. 24.] [Footnote 25: Rink, _Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo_, p. 29.] [Footnote 26: Dalager, _op. cit._ p. 25.] Besides occupation, or the taking possession of a thing, the keeping possession of it may establish a right of ownership. That these principles, though closely connected with each other, are not identical is obvious from two groups of facts. First, a proprietary right which is based on occupation may disappear if the object has ceased to remain in the possession of the person who had appropriated it. The place occupied by a nomad is his only so long as he continues to stay there;[27] and among agricultural savages the cultivator frequently loses his right to the field when he makes no more use of it[28]--though, on the other hand, instances are not wanting in which cultivation gives proprietary {40} rights of a more lasting nature.[29] Loss of possession may, indeed, annul or weaken ownership gained by any method of acquisition. In the Hindu work Panchatantra it is said that the property in "tanks, wells, ponds, temples, and choultries" will no longer rest with persons who once have left them.[30] Among the natives of the Sansanding States the right to a house is lost by its being abandoned.[31] In Greenland, if a man makes a fox trap and neglects it for some time, another may set it and claim the captured animal.[32] So also the finder's title to the discovered article springs from the fact that the original owner's right has been relaxed by his losing the possession of it. Secondly, the retaining possession of an object for a certain length of time may make it the property of the possessor, even though the occupation of that object conferred on him no such right, nay though the acquisition of it was actually wrongful.[33] According to the Roman Law of the Twelve Tables, commodities which had been uninterruptedly possessed for a certain period--movables for a year, and land or houses for two years--became the property of the person possessing them.[34] This principle, known to the Romans as _usucapio_, has descended to modern jurisprudence under the name of "prescription." It also prevailed in India since ancient times. The older law-books laid down the rule that, if the owner of a thing is neither an idiot nor a minor and if his chattel is enjoyed {41} by another before his eyes during ten years and he says nothing, it is lost to him, and the adverse possessor shall retain it as his own property;[35] but it seems that later on the period of prescription was extended to thirty years or even more.[36] In this connection it should also be noticed that the division of labour, implying the use of certain articles, often confers proprietary rights to those articles upon the persons who make habitual use of them, as in the case of women becoming the owners of the household goods.[37] [Footnote 27: _Cf._ Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 167.] [Footnote 28: Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 326. Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 366. Bourke, _Snake-Dance of the Moquis_, p. 261. Shooter, _Kafirs of Natal_, p. 16; Lichtenstein, _Travels in Southern Africa_, i. 271 (Kafirs). MacGregor, in _Jour. African Soc._ 1904, p. 474 (Yoruba). Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 25. Lang, _ibid._ p. 264. (Washambala). Marx, _ibid._ p. 358 (Amahlubi). Sorge, _ibid._ p. 422 (Nissan Islanders). Waitz, _op. cit._ i. 440. Dargun, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ v. 71 _sqq._ Post, _Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 283 _sqq._ _Idem_, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 343 _sq._ de Laveleye-Bücher, _Das Ureigenthum_, ch. xiv. p. 270 _sqq._ Among the Rejangs of Sumatra a planter of fruit-trees or his descendants may claim the ground as long as any of the trees subsist, but when they disappear "the land reverts to the public" (Marsden, op. cit. p. 245).] [Footnote 29: von Martius, Von dem Rechtszustande unter den Ureinwohnern Brasiliens_, p. 35 _sq._ (Brazilian aborigines). Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 53 (Banaka and Bapuku). Kohler, 'Banturecht in Ostafrika,' in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ xv. 48 (natives of Lindi). Trollope, _op. cit._ ii. 302 (Kafirs). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 169. _Idem_, _Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 285 _sq._ Schurtz, in _Zeitschrift für Socialwissenschaft_, iii. 255. Among the Angami Nagas any member of a village "may choose to leave his fields untilled for one year and cannot be compelled to grow his crops during the next, but after that, if illness or idleness prevent him from overtaking the work, his village insists on the fields being let" (Prain, 'Angami Nagas,' in _Revue coloniale internationale_, v. 484).] [Footnote 30: _Panchatantram_, iii. p. 15.] [Footnote 31: Mademba, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 91.] [Footnote 32: Dalager, _op. cit._ p. 27.] [Footnote 33: See Mill, _Principles of Political Economy_, i. 272; Thiers, _op. cit._ p. 108; Waitz-Gerland, _op. cit._ vi. 228 (Maoris).] [Footnote 34: Hunter, _Roman Law_, p. 265 _sqq._ Maine, _Ancient Law_, p. 284. Girard, _Manuel élémentaire de droit romain_, p. 296 _sqq._ Puchta, _Cursus der Institutionen_, ii. 202 _sqq._] [Footnote 35: _Gautama_, xii. 39. _Vasishtha_, xvi. 16 _sq._ _Laws of Manu_, viii. 147 _sq._ See also _Panchatantram_, iii. p. 15; Benfey's translation, vol. ii. 233.] [Footnote 36: _Brihaspati_, ix. 7. Jolly, 'Recht und Sitte,' in Buehler, _Grundriss der indo-arischen Philologie_, ii. 92. For the rules of prescription in ancient India see also Jolly, p. 91 _sqq._, and Kohler, _Altindisches Prozessrecht_, p. 55 _sq._] [Footnote 37: _Supra_, i. 637 _sqq._] A further source of ownership lies in the principle that a person has a title to the products of his own labour. Grotius--in criticising the Roman jurist Paulus, who long before Locke had made labour a justification of property,--[38]argues that this is no special mode of acquisition, but that the labourer's claim to what he produces is based on occupation. "Since in the course of nature," Grotius says, "nothing can be made except but of pre-existing matter, if that matter was ours, the ownership continues when it assumes a new form; if the matter was no one's property, this acquisition comes under occupation; if the matter belonged to another, the thing made is not ours alone."[39] This argument contains its own refutation. If a thing which we make of matter belonging to another person is not "ours alone," our partial right to it can be due only to our labour. Again, if we make a thing of materials belonging to ourselves, our right to it is certainly held to be increased by our exertions in producing it. It should, moreover, be remembered that there is ownership in the products not only of manual but of mental labour, and in the latter case the ownership can hardly be considered to be due to occupation at all. We may say with Mr. Spencer that from the beginning things identified as products of a man's labour are recognised as his. Even {42} among the rudest peoples there is property in weapons, implements, dress, decorations, and other things in which the value given by labour bears a specially large proportion to the value of the raw material.[40] If a Greenlander finds a dead seal with a harpoon in it, he keeps the seal, but restores the harpoon to its owner.[41] Among the same people, when somebody has built dams across salmon-rivers to catch the fish, it is not considered proper for strangers to come and meddle with them.[42] In various parts of Africa he who has dug a well has a right to the exclusive disposal of it.[43] In West Africa, according to Miss Kingsley, that which is acquired or made by a man or woman by their personal exertions is regarded as his or her private property.[44] The Moquis of Arizona "are co-operative in all their labours, whether as hunters, herders, or tillers of the soil; but each man gathers the spoils of his individual skill and daring, or the fruits of his own industry."[45] In the Nicobars, whilst everything which the village as a whole makes or purchases is common property, the result of individual work belongs to the individual.[46] In old Hindu law-books the performance of labour is specified as one of the lawful modes of acquiring property.[47] According to Nârada, when the owner of a field is unable to cultivate it, or dead, or gone no one knows whither, any stranger who undertakes its cultivation unchecked by the owner shall be allowed to keep the produce; and if the owner returns while the stranger is engaged in cultivation, the owner, in order to recover his field, has to pay to the cultivator the whole expense incurred in tilling the waste.[48] Thus, though cultivation does not give a right to the land, it gives a right to the produce {43} of the labour performed. Among uncivilised races we frequently find that the land itself and the crops or trees growing on it have different owners, the latter belonging to the person who planted them.[49] [Footnote 38: _Cf._ Girard, _op. cit._ p. 316.] [Footnote 39: Grotius, _op. cit._ ii. 3. 3.] [Footnote 40: Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, ii. 646. _Idem_, _Principles of Ethics_, ii. 98. _Cf._ Waitz, _op. cit._ i. 440 _sq._] [Footnote 41: Dalager, _op. cit._ p. 25.] [Footnote 42: Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 299.] [Footnote 43: Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 70. Lang, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 264 (Washambala). von François, _Nama und Damara_, p. 175 (Herero).] [Footnote 44: Kingsley, _West African Studies_, p. 366.] [Footnote 45: Bourke, _Snake-dance of the Moquis_, p. 260 _sq._] [Footnote 46: Kloss, _In the Andamans and Nicobars_, p. 240.] [Footnote 47: _Gautama_, x. 42. _Laws of Manu_, x. 115.] [Footnote 48: _Nârada_, xi. 32 _sq._] [Footnote 49: Colenso, _op. cit._ p. 31 (Maoris). Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 25 (Bakwiri). Lang, _ibid._ p. 264 (Washambala). Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 69. Hanoteau and Letourneux, _La Kabylie_, ii. 230; Kobelt, _Reiseerinnerungen aus Algerien und Tunis_, p. 293 (Kabyles of Jurjura). Hyde Clarke, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xix. 199 _sqq._ Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 172. Schurtz, in _Zeitschr. f. Socialwissenschaft_, iii. 250 _sq._] The right of ownership may, further, be established by a transfer of property by its owner, either by way of gift or by sale or exchange or some other form of contract. The conditions necessary for this method of acquisition are, that the owner shall have a right to alienate the article in question, and that the other party shall be capable of owning such property. As has been said before, ownership does not necessarily imply an unrestricted power of disposition. Property in land, for instance, is frequently considered inalienable;[50] and, to take another example, the power of testation, if recognised at all, is often subject to restrictions.[51] The customary law of the Fantis of West Africa does not permit any person to bequeath to an outsider a greater portion of his property than is left for his family.[52] Among the Maoris land obtained by purchase or conquest may be given away or willed by the owner to anybody he thinks fit, but the case is different with patrimony.[53] With regard to the so-called Aryan peoples Sir Henry Maine thinks "it is doubtful whether a true power of testation was known to any original society except the Roman."[54] Even in Rome bequest seems not to have been permitted in pre-historic times, and afterwards a _legitima portio_ was compulsorily reserved for each child.[55] Such is still the law of some continental nations. [Footnote 50: Post, _Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 286 _sqq_. Avebury, _Origin of Civilisation_, p. 483 _sq._] [Footnote 51: Post, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, ii. 200 _sqq._ _Idem_, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 19.] [Footnote 52: Sarbah, _op. cit._ p. 85.] [Footnote 53: Polack, _op. cit._ ii. 69.] [Footnote 54: Maine, _Ancient Law_, p. 196. See also Fustel de Coulanges, _La cité antique_, p. 95.] [Footnote 55: Fustel de Coulanges, _op. cit._ p. 96. Hunter, _Roman Law_, p. 780 _sqq._ Girard, _op. cit._ p. 854 _sqq._] {44} Closely connected with the restrictions imposed on a proprietor's power of testation is the rule of inheritance, one of the most common methods of acquiring property. At the earlier stages of civilisation the property of a deceased person is not in every case subject to this rule. Apart from the practice of testation, which, though hardly primitive, is not infrequently found among savages,[56] there are other ways of dealing with it besides inheritance. The private belongings of the dead, or part of them, are destroyed or buried with him, or his dwelling is burned or abandoned;[57] but Dr. Dargun goes too far when saying that among rude savages this custom is generally practised to such an extent as to exclude heirship in property altogether.[58] Nor must we infer the general prevalence of a stage where there were no definite rules of inheritance[59] from the fact that among some North American tribes, when a man dies leaving young children who are unable to defend themselves, grown-up relatives or other persons come in and seize whatever they please.[60] The ordinary custom of savages is that the dead man's property is inherited either by his own children, if kinship is reckoned through the father, or by his sister's children or other relatives on the mother's side, if kinship is reckoned through females only.[61] Sometimes the rules of inheritance make little or no distinction between men and women;[62] sometimes a decided preference is given to the {45} men[;63] sometimes the women inherit nothing;[64] whereas in a few exceptional cases the women are the only inheritors.[65] Among various savages the widow also has a share in the inheritance, or at any rate has the usufruct of property left by her deceased husband.[66] Very frequently the eldest son,[67] or, where the maternal system of descent prevails in {46} full, the eldest uterine brother[68] or the eldest son of the eldest uterine sister,[69] is the chief or even the only heir. But there are also several instances in which this privilege is granted to the youngest son.[70] Thus, among the Hos of India he apparently inherits all the property of his father;[71] among the Limbus of Nepal, though an extra share is set apart for the eldest son, the youngest one is allowed to choose his share first;[72] among the Eskimo of Behring Strait, "if there are several sons the eldest gets the least, the most valuable things being given to the youngest."[73] In Greenland a foster-son inherits all the property of his foster-father, if the latter dies without offspring or if his sons are still young children;[74] and of the West African Fulah we are told that, though they have sons and daughters, the adopted child becomes heir to all that they leave behind.[75] Among the Kukis, in default of legitimate issue, a natural son succeeds to his father's property before all other male relations;[76] among the Bódo and Dhimáls sons by concubinage or adoption get equal shares with sons born in wedlock;[77] the Wanyamwezi of Eastern Africa have the habit of leaving property to their illegitimate children by slave girls or concubines even to the exclusion of their issue by wives.[78] Among other uncivilised peoples, {47} again, slaves cannot inherit at all,[79] and where they are allowed to possess property the master is sometimes the legitimate heir of his slave.[80] [Footnote 56: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, iii. 115 _sq._ (Tahitians). Wilkin, in _Reports of the Cambridge Expedition to Torres Straits_, v. 286 (natives of Mabuiag). Kingsley, _West African Studies_, p. 373. Lang, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 238 (Washambala). Desoignies, _ibid._ p. 277 (Msalala). Rautanen, _ibid._ p. 336 (Ondonga). Dale, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxv. 224. Post, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, ii. 199.] [Footnote 57: See _infra_, on Regard for the Dead.] [Footnote 58: Dargun, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ v. 99 _sqq._] [Footnote 59: _Ibid._ p. 102 _sq._] [Footnote 60: Prescott, in Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, ii. 194 _sq._ (Dacotahs). Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 208 (Salish). Dalager, _op. cit._ p. 30 _sq._; Cranz, _op. cit._ i. 176 (Greenlanders).] [Footnote 61: See Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 97 _sqq._] [Footnote 62: Kloss, _op. cit._ p. 241 (Nicobarese). Wilkin, in _Rep. Cambridge Anthr. Exped._ v. 285 _sq._ (natives of Mabuiag). Wilkes, _U.S. Exploring Expedition_, v. 85 (Kingsmill Islanders). Senfft, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 441 (Marshall Islanders). Dawson, _op. cit._ p. 7 (certain tribes of Western Victoria). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 14. _Idem_, _Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 299. _Idem_, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 225.] [Footnote 63: Sarbah, _Fanti Customary Laws_, p. 87. Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 13 _sq._ _Idem_, _Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 298 _sq._ _Idem_, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 222 _sqq._ Among several uncivilised peoples landed property descends exclusively (Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 62 [Kandhs]; Sumner, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 79 [Jakuts]; Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 64; Johnston, _Uganda Protectorate_, ii. 694; Post, _Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 298 _sq._; _Idem_, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 224) or by preference (Thomson, _Story of New Zealand_, i. 96; Post, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 224 sq.) to men.] [Footnote 64: Castrén, _Nordiska resor och forskningar_, i. 312 (Ostyaks). Marshall, _A Phrenologist amongst the Todas_, p. 206. Hodgson, _Miscellaneous Essays_, i. 122 (Bódo and Dhimáls). Hislop, _Papers relating to the Aboriginal Tribes of the Central Provinces_, p. 12, n. [dagger] (Gonds). Soppitt, _Account of the Kuki-Lushai Tribes_, p. 16; Stewart, 'Notes on Northern Cachar,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxiv. 640 (Kukis). Risley, _Census of India_, 1901, vol. i. Ethnographic Appendices, pp. 146 (Santals), 156 (Mundas), 209 (most of the Angami Nagas). Fryer, _Khyeng People of the Sandoway District_, p. 6. Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 244 (Rejangs). Eyre, _Expeditions of Discovery into Central Australia_, ii. 297. Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 73. Hinde, _Last of the Masai_, p. 105; Johnston, _Uganda Protectorate_, ii. 828 (Masai). Dale, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxv. 224 (Wabondei). Kingsley, _Travels in West Africa_, p. 485 (some West African tribes). Nassau, _Fetichism in West Africa_, p. 13 (natives of the Cameroons). Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 20 (Bakwiri). Mademba, _ibid._ p. 81 (pagan Bambara). Lang, _ibid._ p. 238 (Washambala). Kraft, _ibid._ p. 289 (Wapokomo). Rautanen, _ibid._ p. 335 (Ondonga). Decle, _op. cit._ p. 486 (Wakamba). Campbell, _Travels in South Africa_, p. 520 (Kafirs). Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 5. _Idem_, _Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 296 _sqq._ _Idem_, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 218 _sq._] [Footnote 65: Hamy, in _Bull. Soc. d'Anthr. Paris_, ser. ii. vol. xii. (1877), 535 (Penong Piâk of Cambodia). Buchanan, quoted by Hodgson, _Miscellaneous Essays_, i. 110 (Kócch). Post, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 213.] [Footnote 66: Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 307. Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 7 (certain tribes of Western Victoria). Hunt, 'Ethnogr. Notes on the Murray Islands, Torres Straits,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxviii. 7. Grange, 'Journal of an Expedition into the Naga Hills,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, ix. pt. ii. 964. Mason, _ibid._ xxxvii. pt. ii. 142 (Karens). Post, _Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 303 _sqq._] [Footnote 67: Dalager, _op. cit._ pp. 29, 31; Cranz, _op. cit._ i. 176 (Greenlanders). Risley, _op. cit._ p. 203 (Limbus of Nepal). Macpherson, _op. cit._ p. 62 (Kandhs). Soppitt, _op. cit._ p. 16 (Kukis). Fryer, _op. cit._ p. 6 (Khyens). Junghuhn, _op. cit._ ii. 147 (Bataks). Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, p. 46. Polack, _op. cit._ ii. 69; Colenso, _op. cit._ p. 33 (Maoris). Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, pp. 69, 73 _sq._ Paulitschke, _op. cit._ p. 192 (Gallas). Hollis, _Masai_, p. 309; Hinde, _op. cit._ pp. 51, 105 (Masai). Volkens, _Der Kilimandscharo_, p. 253 (Wadshagga). Kingsley, _Travels in West Africa_, p. 485 (some West African tribes). Bosman, _op. cit._ pp. 173 (natives of the Gold Coast), 322 (natives of the Slave Coast). Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 20 (Bakwiri). Mademba, _ibid._ p. 81 (pagan Bambara). Desoignies, _ibid._ p. 276 (Msalala). Marx, _ibid._ p. 355 (Amahlubi), Chanler, _Through Jungle and Desert_, p. 316 (Rendile), Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 12 _sqq._ _Idem_, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 217, 218, 220 _sq._] [Footnote 68: Proyart, 'History of Loango,' in Pinkerton, _Collection of Voyages and Travels_, xvi. 571.] [Footnote 69: Kingsley, _West African Studies_, p. 373 _sq._ (some West African tribes). Sorge, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 413 (Nissan Islanders).] [Footnote 70: Risley, _op. cit._ p. 227 (Lusheis). Avebury, _Origin of Civilisation_, p. 493 _sqq._ Post, _Grundriss, der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 218, 221 _sq._ Liebrecht, _Zur Volkskunde_, p. 432.] [Footnote 71: Tickell, 'Memoir on the Hodésum,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, ix. pt. ii. 794, n.*] [Footnote 72: Risley, _op. cit._ p. 203. _Cf._ Mason, in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxxvii. pt. ii. 142 (Karens).] [Footnote 73: Nelson, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 307.] [Footnote 74: Dalager, _op. cit._ p. 33.] [Footnote 75: Denham and Clapperton, quoted in Spencer's _Descriptive Sociology_, African Races, p. 8.] [Footnote 76: Stewart, in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxiv. 640.] [Footnote 77: Hodgson, _Miscellaneous Essays_, i. 122.] [Footnote 78: Burton, _Lake Regions of Central Africa_, ii. 23 _sq._ _Cf._ Post, _Afrikanische Jurisprudenz_, ii. 6.] [Footnote 79: Nicole, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, pp. 115, 119 (Diakité-Sarracolese). Lang, _ibid._ pp. 238, 242 (Washambala). Kraft, _ibid._ pp. 289, 291 (Wapokomo). Rautanen, _ibid._ p. 335 (Ondonga). Post, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 383.] [Footnote 80: Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 73. Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 43 (Banaka and Bapuku). Mademba, _ibid._ p. 83 (natives of the Sansanding States). Post, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 383.] At higher stages of civilisation the rules of inheritance present the same characteristics as among many savages. During historic times, at least, the nations of culture have reckoned kinship through the father, and succession has been agnatic.[81] In China women only inherit in the very last resort, failing all male relatives.[82] Among the Hebrews, in ancient times, only sons, not daughters, still less wives, could inherit;[83] but the later law conferred on daughters the right of heirship in the absence of sons.[84] The Muhammedan law of inheritance in most cases awards to a female a share equal to half that of a male of the same degree of relationship to the deceased;[85] but according to the old law of Medina women could not inherit at all.[86] Of all the ancient nations with whose rules of inheritance we are acquainted, the Romans seem to have been the only one who gave daughters the same right of inheritance as sons.[87] In India women had originally no such right at all, but in this, as in other matters relating to property, their position subsequently improved.[88] In Attic law sons excluded {48} daughters from succession,[89] and the same was the case among the Scandinavian peoples still in the later Middle Ages.[90] In England women are even to this day postponed to men in the order of succession to real property.[91] Special privileges in the division of the father's property were granted to the eldest son by the Hebrews[92] and Hindus,[93] and traces of primogeniture are met with in ancient Greek legislation.[94] In the history of English law we find not only primogeniture, but ultimogeniture as well.[95] As regards the question of legitimacy, we notice that in China all sons born in the household have an equal share in the inheritance, whether born of the principal wife or a concubine or a domestic slave.[96] Among the Hebrews the sons of concubines had a right of inheritance,[97] but whether on an equality with the other sons we do not know.[98] According to Muhammedan law no distinction in point of inheritance is made between the child of a wife and that borne by a slave to her master, if the master acknowledge the child to be his own.[99] In Hindu legislation the legitimate {49} sons have the nearest right to the inheritance of their father, but a son begotten by a Sûdra on a female slave may, if permitted by his father, take a share of it.[100] The Roman law on the subject may be summed up thus:--With regard to its father a natural child has no right at all, and differs in no respect from a stranger; with regard to its mother it has the same right as a legitimate child.[101] In Teutonic countries the position of illegitimate children as to succession was much more favourable in earlier times than later on when Christianity made its influence felt, depriving them of all title to inheritance.[102] Strangers were formerly unable both to inherit and to transmit property. For a long time it was the custom in Europe to confiscate their effects on their death; and not only persons who were born in a foreign country were subject to this _droit d'aubaine_, as it was called in France, but in some countries it was applied even to persons who removed from one diocese to another, or from the lands of one baron to another.[103] Indeed, it is only in recent times that foreigners have been placed on a footing of equality with citizens with regard to inheritance. In 1790 the French National Assembly abolished the right of _aubaine_ as being contrary to the principle of a human brotherhood.[104] Later on, when the Code Napoléon was drawn up, a backward step was taken by restricting the abolition of this right to nations who acted with reciprocity; but this limitation only lasted till 1819, when all inequalities were finally removed in France.[105] In England it was not until 1870 that foreigners were authorised to inherit and bequeath like British subjects.[106] [Footnote 81: See Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 104.] [Footnote 82: Alabaster, 'Law of Inheritance,' in _China Review_, v. 193. 'Inheritance and "Patria Potestas" in China,' _ibid._ v. 406.] [Footnote 83: _Genesis_, xxxi. 14 _sq._ _Numbers_, xxvii. 4. Gans, _Das Erbrecht in weltgeschichtlicher Entwickelung_, i. 147. Benzinger, 'Law and Justice,' in Cheyne and Black, _Encyclopædia Biblica_, iii. 2728.] [Footnote 84: _Numbers_, xxvii. 8. Gans, _op. cit._ i. 147. Benzinger, _loc. cit._ p. 2729. It is only by exceptional favour that the daughters inherit along with the sons (_Job_, xlii. 15).] [Footnote 85: _Koran_, iv. 12, 175. Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 116 _sq._ Kohler, _Rechtsvergleichende Studien_, p. 102 _sqq._] [Footnote 86: Robertson Smith, _Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia_, pp. 65, 117.] [Footnote 87: Gans, _op. cit._ ii. 367 _sq._ Gide, _Étude sur la condition privée de la femme_, p. 102.] [Footnote 88: Jolly, _loc. cit._ pp. 83, 86. Kohler, 'Indisches Ehe- und Familienrecht,' in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ iii. 424 _sqq._ Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Civile_, ii. 48.] [Footnote 89: Gans, _op. cit._ i. 338, 341. Gide, _op. cit._ p. 79.] [Footnote 90: Nordström, _Bidrag till den svenska samhälls-författningens historia_, ii. 95, 190. Stemann, _Den danske Retshistorie indtil Christian V.'s Lov_, p. 311 _sq._ Keyser, _Efterladte Skrifter_, ii. pt. i. 330, 339.] [Footnote 91: Renton, _Encyclopædia of the Laws of England_, xi. 75.] [Footnote 92: _Deuteronomy_, xxi. 17. Gans, _op. cit._ i. 148. Benzinger, in Cheyne and Black, _Encyclopædia Biblica_, iii. 2729. Mr. Jacobs suggests (_Studies in Biblical Archæology_, p. 49 _sqq._) that ultimogeniture was once the rule in early Hebrew society, and was succeeded by primogeniture only when the Israelites exchanged their roving life for one in which sons became more stay-at-home.] [Footnote 93: _Âpastamba_, ii. 6. 14. 6, 12. _Laws of Manu_, ix. 114. Jolly, _loc. cit._ pp. 77, 82. Maine, _Dissertations on Early Law and Custom_, p. 89 _sq._ In China, though sons inherit in equal shares, "it is not uncommon for the brothers to temporarily yield up their share to the elder brother, either in whole or in part, for the glory of the House" ('Inheritance and "Patria Potestas" in China,' in _China Review_, v. 406; _cf._ Doolittle, _Social Life of the Chinese_, ii. 224; Davis, _China_, i. 343).] [Footnote 94: Fustel de Coulanges, _op. cit._ p. 99.] [Footnote 95: Elton, _Origins of English History_, p. 178 _sqq._ Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law till the Time of Edward I._ ii. 263 _sqq._ The custom of ultimogeniture has also been traced in Wales, parts of France, Germany, Friesland, Scandinavia, Russia, and Hungary (Elton, _op. cit._ p. 180 _sqq._; Liebrecht, _op. cit._ p. 431 _sq._).] [Footnote 96: Parker, 'Comparative Chinese Family Law,' in _China Review_, viii. 79. 'Inheritance and "Patria Potestas" in China,' _ibid._ v. 406. Medhurst, 'Marriage, Affinity, and Inheritance in China,' in _Trans. Roy. Asiatic Soc. China Branch_, iv. 31. Simcox, _Primitive Civilizations_, ii. 351.] [Footnote 97: _Genesis_, xxi. 10 _sqq._] [Footnote 98: Benzinger, in Cheyne and Black, _Encyclopædia Biblica_, iii. 2729.] [Footnote 99: Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, p. 118.] [Footnote 100: Jolly, _loc. cit._ p. 85. _Laws of Manu_, ix. 179.] [Footnote 101: Gide, _op. cit._ p. 567 _sqq._] [Footnote 102: Nordström, _op. cit._ ii. 67, 200 _sqq._ See also Alard, _Condition et droits des enfants naturels_, pp. 9, 11; _supra_, i. 47.] [Footnote 103: Brussel, _Nouvel examen de l'usage général des fiefs en France_, ii. 944 _sqq._ de Laurière, _Glossaire du droit françois_, p. 47 _sq._ Demangeat, _Histoire de la condition civile des étrangers en France_, p. 107 _sqq._] [Footnote 104: Demangeat, _op. cit._ p. 239.] [Footnote 105: _Ibid._ p. 250 _sqq._] [Footnote 106: _Naturalisation Act_, 1870, § 2.] Besides acquisition by occupation, possession for a certain length of time, labour, voluntary transfer, and inheritance, there are instances in which ownership in a {50} thing directly follows from ownership in another thing. It is a general rule that the owner of an object also owns what develops from or is produced by it.[107] The owner of a cow owns her calf, the owner of a tree its fruits, the owner of a piece of land anything growing on it, at least if no labour has been necessary for its production. Ownership in land also gives a certain right to the wild animals which are found there. Among the Fantis, for instance, if anybody kills game on another person's land, its proprietor is entitled to the shoulder or a quarter of such game.[108] In this connection we have further to notice the mode of acquisition which the Roman jurists called _accessio_. When that which belongs to one person is so intermixed with the property of another, that either it cannot be separated at all, or cannot be separated without inflicting damage out of proportion to the gain, the owner of the principal becomes the owner of the accessory, though, as a rule, he would have to pay compensation for it.[109] [Footnote 107: See Post, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, ii. 612; Goos, _Forelæsninger over den almindelige Retslære_, ii. 159 _sqq._] [Footnote 108: Sarbah, _op. cit._ p. 48.] [Footnote 109: Hunter, _Roman Law_, p. 247 _sq._] All these methods of acquisition apply not only to individual property, but to common property as well. Occupation may establish ownership whether there be many occupants or only one; joint labour may lead to joint ownership in the produce; property may be transferred to a body of persons as well as to a single individual. But the custom which prescribes community of goods may also itself be an independent method of acquisition: by belonging to an association of people who hold property in common a person may be part owner of a thing which has been occupied or produced by some other member of the association. Communism of one kind or another is undoubtedly a very ancient institution,[110] though its prevalence at the lower stages of civilisation has often been exaggerated.[111] But the whole question of {51} common ownership is too complicated and lies too much apart from our special subject to admit of a detailed treatment. [Footnote 110: _Cf._ Kovalewsky, _Tableau des origines et de l'évolution de la famille et de la propriété_, p. 51 _sqq._] [Footnote 111: Dr. Dargun (in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ v. 76, &c.) even goes so far as to say that savages know of no other property but such as belongs to individuals; but this statement is hardly justified by facts.] * * * * * From the statement of facts we shall now proceed to an explanation of these facts. First, why do men recognise proprietary rights at all? Why do the moral feelings of mankind grant to certain persons a right to the exclusive disposal of certain things, in other words, why does the disposal of an object without the consent of the person called its owner give rise to moral disapproval? The "right of property," it is true, is generally used as a term for a legal right. But in this, as in so many other cases, the legal right is essentially a formulated expression of moral feelings. As Mr. Spencer observes, the desire to appropriate, and to keep that which has been appropriated, lies deep not only in human but in animal nature, being, indeed, a condition of survival.[112] Sticklebacks show obvious signs of anger when their territory is invaded by other sticklebacks.[113] Birds defend their nests against the attacks of intruders.[114] The dog fights for his kennel or for the prey he has caught. A monkey in the Zoological Gardens of London, which made use of a stone to open nuts, always hid it in the straw after using it, and would not allow any other monkey to touch it.[115] We find the same propensity in man from his earliest years. At the age of two, Tiedemann's son did not let his sister sit on his chair or take any of his clothes, though he had no scruples against appropriating things which belonged to her.[116] Owing to this tendency to keep an appropriated object, and to resist its abstraction, it is dangerous for an individual to try to seize anything held by another of about equal strength; {52} and in human societies this naturally led to the habit of leaving each in possession of whatever he had attained, especially in early times when the objects possessed were of little value, and there was no great inequality of wealth.[117] This habit was further strengthened by various circumstances, all of which tended to make interference with other persons' possessions the subject of moral censure. From both prudential and altruistic motives parents taught their children to abstain from such interference, and this, by itself, would readily give rise to the notion of theft as a moral wrong. Society at large also tried to prevent acts of this kind, partly in order to preserve peace and order, partly out of sympathy with the possessor. Resentment is felt not only by him who is deprived of his possession, but by others on his behalf. This is seen even among some of the lower animals. The Pomeranian dogs of German carters watch the goods of their masters;[118] Mr. Romanes's terrier protected meat from other terriers, his offspring, which lived in the same house with him, and with which he was on the very best of terms;[119] Captain Gordon Stables's cat, which had her place on the table at meals, never allowed any unauthorised interference with the viands.[120] In men such sympathetic resentment naturally develops into genuine moral disapproval. [Footnote 112: Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, ii. 644.] [Footnote 113: _Supra_, i. 22.] [Footnote 114: Perty, _Das Seelenleben der Thiere_, p. 68.] [Footnote 115: Darwin, _Descent of Man_, i. 125. See also Fischer, 'Notes sur l'intelligence des singes,' in _Revue scientifique_, xxxiii. 618.] [Footnote 116: Compayré, _L'évolution intellectuelle et morale de l'enfant_, p. 312.] [Footnote 117: _Cf._ Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, ii. 634, 644; Dargun, in _Zeitschr. f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ v. 79 _sq._; von Martius, _Beiträge zur Ethnographie Amerika's_, i. 88, 90.] [Footnote 118: Peschel, _Races of Man_, p. 240.] [Footnote 119: Romanes, 'Conscience in Animals,' in _Quarterly Journal of Science_, xiii. 156, n.*] [Footnote 120: 'Studies in Animal Life,' in _Chambers's Journal_, 1884, p. 824.] All this applies not only to proprietary rights based on occupation, but also to the principle of continued possession as a ground of ownership. Indeed, the longer a person is in possession of a certain object, the more apt are both he and other individuals to resent its alienation; whereas the loss or abandonment of a thing has a tendency to loosen the connection between the thing and its owner.[121] This is undoubtedly the chief source of the rule of prescription, {53} though there may be other circumstances as well which help to justify it. Thus it has been said that it is necessary to the security of rightful possessors that they should not be molested by charges of wrongful acquisition when by the lapse of time witnesses must have perished or been lost sight of, and the real character of the transaction can no longer be cleared up;[122] whilst another argument adduced in favour of prescription is, that long possession generally implies labour and that labour gives ownership.[123] The reason why property is gained by labour is obvious enough. Not only do exertions in producing an object make the producer desirous to keep it and to have the exclusive disposal of it, but an encroachment upon the fruit of his labour arouses sympathetic resentment in outsiders, who feel that an effort deserves its reward. [Footnote 121: _Cf._ Hume, _Treatise of Human Nature_, ii. 3 (_Philosophical Works_, ii. 274):--"What has long lain under our eye, and has often been employed to our advantage, _that_ we are always the most unwilling to part with."] [Footnote 122: Mill, _Principles of Political Economy_, i. 272.] [Footnote 123: Thiers, _op. cit._ p. 103 _sqq._] As the recognition of ownership thus ultimately springs from a desire in the owner to keep and dispose of what he has appropriated or produced, it is evident that, in ordinary circumstances, there would be no moral disapproval of a voluntary transfer of property to another person. But the case is different if such a transfer is injurious to the interests of persons who have a special claim to consideration. Thus testation is frequently held to be inconsistent with the duties which parents owe to their children or other near relatives to one another. The father, though the lord of the family's possessions, may indeed be regarded only as the first magistrate of an association, and in such a case his share in the division naturally devolves on the member of the family who succeeds to his authority.[124] The right of inheritance, then, may be intimately connected with the idea that the heir was, in a manner, joint owner of the deceased person's property already during his lifetime.[125] But there are {54} various other facts which account for the existence of this right. In early civilisation the rule of succession is part of a comprehensive system of rights and duties which unite persons of the same kin. Professor Robertson Smith observes that in ancient Arabia all persons on whom the duty of blood-revenge lay originally had the right of inheritance;[126] and a similar connection between inheritance and blood-revenge is found among other peoples. This system of mutual rights and duties is generally one-sided, it has reference either to paternal or to maternal relatives, but not to both at once. Now, whatever be the reason why the one or the other method of reckoning kinship prevails among a certain people, it is in the present place sufficient to point out the influence which the idea of a common descent exercises upon the right of inheritance owing to its power of knitting together the persons to whom it refers. Besides, the duty connected with this right may also be of such a nature as to require a certain amount of wealth for its performance; among the Hindus, Greeks, and Romans, the right to inherit a dead man's property was exactly co-extensive with the duty of performing his obsequies and offering sacrifices to his spirit.[127] A further cause of children inheriting their father's property may be that they, to some extent, have previously been in joint possession of it; for, as we know, possession readily leads to ownership. They would have an additional claim to succeed to his property when it had been gathered by their labour, as well as his, or when they stood in need of the support which it had been the father's duty to give them had he been alive. Moreover, where a person's children are present on the spot at his death, they are apt to be the first occupants of his {55} property;[128] and we have noticed the importance of first occupancy as a means of establishing proprietary rights. The influence of these latter considerations, which are independent of the method of tracing descent, is apparent from the fact that among several peoples inheritance runs in the male line even though children take the mother's name and are considered to belong to her clan.[129] It may be added that a reason which modern writers often have assigned for giving the property of a person who dies intestate to his children or other near relatives is the supposition that in so disposing of it the law is only likely to do what the proprietor himself would have done, if he had done anything.[130] [Footnote 124: Plato, _Leges_, xi. 923. Maine, _Ancient Law_, p. 184. Fustel de Coulanges, _op. cit._ p. 85. Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Civile_, ii. 48. Mill, _op. cit._ i. 274. Kovalewsky, _Coutume contemporaine et loi ancienne_, p. 198 (Ossetes).] [Footnote 125: It is interesting to note that in the Chinese penal code stealing from a relative is punished less severely than other cases of theft, and that the mitigation of the punishment is proportionate to the nearness of the relationship (_Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cclxxii. p. 287). The reason for this is that, "according to the Chinese patriarchal system, a theft is not in this case a violation of an exclusive right, but only of the qualified interest which each individual has in his share of the family property" (Staunton, _ibid._ p. 287, n.*).] [Footnote 126: Robertson Smith, _Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia_, pp. 55, 56, 66 _sq._] [Footnote 127: _Laws of Manu_, ix. 186 _sq._ Isaeus, _Oratio de Philoctemonis hereditate_, 51. Cicero, _De legibus_, ii. 19 _sq._ Fustel de Coulanges, _op. cit._ p. 84. Maine, _Ancient Law_, p. 191 _sq._] [Footnote 128: _Cf._ Mill, _op. cit._ i. 274.] [Footnote 129: Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, pp. 104, 111.] [Footnote 130: Hume, _Treatise of Human Nature_, ii. 3 (_Philosophical Works_, ii. 280). Godwin, _Enquiry concerning Political Justice_, ii. 438. Mill, _op. cit._ i. 275.] In details the rules of succession are influenced by a variety of circumstances. Women may be excluded from inheritance or receive a smaller share than the men because the latter, being the stronger party, appropriate everything or the larger portion of the property for themselves;[131] or because the women are less in need of property, being supported by their male relatives or husbands;[132] or because they are exempt from the heaviest duties connected with kinship, as the duty of blood-revenge;[133] or, as was the case in the feudal system, because a female tenant is naturally unable to attend the lord in his wars;[134] or for the purpose of preventing the estate from passing to another family or tribe.[135] The idea of keeping together the property of the house also largely is at the bottom of the rule of primogeniture. {56} Besides, the eldest son is the most respected among the children, sometimes he is regarded quite as a sacred being.[136] On the death of the head of the family he is generally better suited than anybody else to take his place; and his privileged position with regard to inheritance is justified by the duties connected with it, especially the duty of looking after and supporting the other members of the household.[137] In feudalism, where tenancy implied duties as well as rights, it was also, from the lord's point of view, the simplest arrangement that when a tenant died a single person should fill the vacant place.[138] But there are many other points of view which may determine the rules of succession. It may be thought just that each child should have an equal share in the inheritance, and that something should be given also to the widow, whose maintenance devolved on the husband and who, whilst he was alive, had been in joint possession of many of his belongings. Or the youngest son may be the chief or the exclusive heir, partly perhaps for the sake of preventing a division of the property, or because the lord would have but one tenant,[139] but partly also because he had remained with his father till his death,[140] or "on the plea of his being less able to help himself on the death of the parents than his elder brethren, who have had their father's assistance in settling themselves in the world during his lifetime."[141] The Wanyamwezi, again, justify the practice of leaving property {57} to their illegitimate children by slave girls or concubines, to the exclusion of their legitimate offspring, "by the fact of the former requiring their assistance more than the latter, who have friends and relatives to aid them."[142] Generally there seems to be a close connection between illegitimate children's right to inheritance and the legal recognition of polygamous practices. This is indicated by a comparison between Oriental and Roman legislation on the subject, and, in Teutonic countries, between ancient custom and the later law, which was influenced by Christianity's horror of sexual acts falling outside the monogamous marriage relation. The privileges which Hindu law grants to the illegitimate children of Sûdras are due to the notion that the marriage of a member of this caste is itself considered to be of so low a nature as to be on a par with irregular connections.[143] [Footnote 131: _Cf._ Campbell, _Travels in South Africa_, p. 520 (Kafirs).] [Footnote 132: _Cf._ Cranz, _op. cit._ i. 176 (Greenlanders); Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 62 (Kandhs); Hinde, _op. cit._ p. 51 (Masai); 'Inheritance and "Patria Potestas" in China,' in _China Review_, v. 406; Jolly, _loc. cit._ p. 83 (ancient Hindus); Post, _Entwicklungsgeschichte des Familienrechts_, p. 296 _sq._; _Idem_, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 218 _sq._] [Footnote 133: _Cf._ Robertson Smith, _Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia_, p. 65 _sq._; Stemann, _Den danske Retshistorie indtil Christian V.'s Lov_, p. 311 _sq._] [Footnote 134: _Cf._ Cleveland, _Woman under the English Law_, p. 83.] [Footnote 135: Shortland, _Traditions and Superstitions of the New Zealanders_, p. 256. Kingsley, _Travels in West Africa_, p. 485. Post, _Grundriss der ethnol. Jurisprudenz_, i. 214. _Cf._ _Numbers_, xxxvi. 1 _sqq._] [Footnote 136: _Supra_, i. 605, 606, 614. Gill, _Life in the Southern Isles_, p. 46 _sq._] [Footnote 137: Dalager, _op. cit._ pp. 29, 31; Cranz, _op. cit._ i. 176 (Greenlanders). Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 74. Hinde, _op. cit._ p. 51 (Masai). Of the B[=a]gdis of Bengal Mr. Risley expressly says (_op. cit._ p. 183) that the extra share which is given to the eldest son "seems to be intended to enable him to support the female members of the family, who remain under his care."] [Footnote 138: Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 274.] [Footnote 139: _Ibid._ ii. 280.] [Footnote 140: Risley, _op. cit._ p. 227 (Lusheis). Among the Angami Nagas the youngest son nearly always inherits his father's house, because sons, when marrying, leave the paternal mansion and build houses of their own (_ibid._ p. 209). It has been suggested that the custom of ultimogeniture "would naturally arise during the latter stages of the pastoral period, when the elder sons would in the ordinary course of events have 'set up for themselves' by the time of the father's death" (Jacobs, _Studies in Biblical Archæology_, p. 47; Gomme, quoted _ibid._ p. 47, n. 1; Blackstone, _Commentaries on the Laws of England_, ii. 70 _sq._).] [Footnote 141: Tickell, in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, ix. pt. ii. 794, n.*] [Footnote 142: Burton, _Lake Regions of Central Africa_, ii. 23 _sq._] [Footnote 143: Jolly, _loc. cit._ p. 85.] Of the incapacity of children, wives, and slaves to acquire property for themselves little needs to be said, in the present connection, by way of explanation. Their exclusion from the right of independent ownership is an incident of their subjection to their parents, husbands, or masters. But we must remember that, whilst the latter have a right to dispose of the earnings of their subordinates, they also have the duty of supporting them, and that in early civilisation the child and the wife, sometimes even the slave,[144] are practically, as it were, joint owners of goods which in theory belong to the head of the family alone. [Footnote 144: Volkens, _op. cit._ p. 249 (Wadshagga).] We have still to explain the variations of moral judgments with regard to different acts of theft. That the condemnation of the offence varies in degree according to the value of the stolen goods follows from the fact that theft is disapproved of on account of the injury done to the owner. But in many cases, when the injury is very slight, the appropriation of another person's property is {58} justified by the needs of him who took it. And frequently, also, the condemnation of the thief is more concerned with his encroachment upon a neighbour's right than with measuring the exact amount of harm inflicted. Among the Basutos, says Casalis, "the idea of theft is expressed by a generic word which refers to the violation of right, much more than to the damage caused."[145] Burglary is regarded as an aggravated form of theft partly because it adds a fresh offence, the illicit entering into another person's house, to that against property, partly because it proves great premeditation in the offender.[146] Robbery is likewise a double offence, implying, as it does, an act of violence, and may on that account be more severely censured than ordinary theft; but in other cases the courage and strength displayed by the robber is looked upon as a mitigating circumstance, and sometimes substitutes admiration for disapproval, whereas the secret offender is despised as a coward. So, too, the secrecy of nocturnal theft may aggravate the crime, whilst at the same time the difficulty in providing against it may induce society to increase the punishment. But men are apt to admire not only bravery and force, but also dexterity and pluck, hence the appreciation of adroit theft. The same tendency in some measure accounts for the distinction between manifest and non-manifest theft; but here we have in the first place to remember that strong emotions are more easily aroused by the sight of an act than by the mere knowledge of its commission.[147] That the moral valuation of theft varies according to the station of the thief and the person robbed is due to the same causes as are similar variations with regard to other injuries; and so is the distinction between offences against the property of a tribesman or fellow-countryman and offences against the property of a stranger. The theory of the Roman jurists according to which the property of an enemy in war belongs to nobody as long as the hostilities last, and therefore becomes the property of the {59} captor by the right of occupation,[148] is only a play with words intended to give a reasonable justification to a practice which is really due to lack of regard for the feelings of strangers. When men at an early stage of civilisation respect a stranger's property the motive is undoubtedly in the main prudential. Savages may be anxious to prevent theft from a neighbouring tribe in order to avoid disagreeable consequences.[149] And I venture to think that the honesty they often display with regard to objects belonging to strangers who visit them, and especially with regard to things left in their charge,[150] largely springs from superstitious fear. We have noticed before that even the acceptance of gifts is supposed to be connected with supernatural danger, owing to the baneful magic energy with which the gift is suspected to be saturated.[151] Would not the same apply to the illicit appropriation of a stranger's belongings, and especially to trusts, which naturally call for great precaution on the part of the owner? This leads us to a subject of considerable importance in the history of property, namely, the influence which magic and religious beliefs have exercised on the regard for proprietary rights. [Footnote 145: Casalis, _Basutos_, p. 304.] [Footnote 146: _Cf._ Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 878 (ancient Teutons).] [Footnote 147: _Supra_, i. 294.] [Footnote 148: Hunter, _Roman Law_, p. 257. Puchta, _op. cit._ ii. 220.] [Footnote 149: Sproat, _Scenes and Studies of Savage Life_, p. 159 (Ahts). Scott Robertson, _Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 440.] [Footnote 150: See, besides statements referred to above, Lumholtz, _Unknown Mexico_, i. 420, and ii. 477; Nordenskiöld, _Vegas färd kring Asien och Europa_, ii. 140 _sq._ (Chukchi); Worcester, _Philippine Islands_, p. 413 (Mangyans); Colenso, _op. cit._ p. 43 (Maoris); Macdonald, _Light in Africa_, p. 212 (Bantu); Campbell, _Travels in South Africa_, p. 517, and Leslie, _Among the Zulus and Amatongas_, p. 201 (Kafirs).] [Footnote 151: _Supra_, i. 593 _sq._] Theft is not only punished by men, but is supposed to be avenged by supernatural powers. The Alfura of Halmahera are said to be honest only because they fear that they otherwise would be subject to the punishment of spirits.[152] The natives of Efate, in the New Hebrides, maintained that theft was condemned by their gods.[153] In Aneiteum, another island belonging to the same group, thieves were supposed to be punished after death.[154] In Netherland Island they {60} were said to go to a prison of darkness under the earth;[155] according to the beliefs of the Banks Islanders they were excluded from the true Panoi or Paradise.[156] On the Gold Coast, "if a man had property stolen from his house, he might go to the priest of the local deity he was accustomed to worship, state the loss that had befallen him, make an offering of a fowl, rum, and eggs, and ask the priest to supplicate the god to punish the thief."[157] In Southern Guinea fetishes are inaugurated to detect and punish certain kinds of theft, and persons who are cognisant of such crimes and do not give information about them are also liable to be punished by the fetish.[158] The Bechuanas speak of an unknown being, vaguely called by the name of Lord and Master of things (Mongalinto), who punishes theft. One of them said: "When it thunders every one trembles; if there are several together, one asks the other with uneasiness, Is there any one amongst us who devours the wealth of others? All then spit on the ground saying, We do not devour the wealth of others. If a thunderbolt strikes and kills one of them, no one complains, no one weeps; instead of being grieved, all unite in saying that the Lord is delighted (that is to say, he has done right) with killing that man; we also say that the thief eats thunderbolts, that is to say, does things which draw down upon men such judgments."[159] [Footnote 152: Kükenthal, _Forschungsreise in den Molukken_, p. 188.] [Footnote 153: Macdonald, _Oceania_, p. 208.] [Footnote 154: Turner, _Samoa_, p. 326.] [Footnote 155: _Ibid._ p. 301.] [Footnote 156: Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 274.] [Footnote 157: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 75. See also Cruickshank, _op. cit._ ii. 152, 160, 184; Schultze, _Der Fetischismus_, p. 91.] [Footnote 158: Wilson, _Western Africa_, p. 275.] [Footnote 159: Arbousset and Daumas, _Exploratory Tour to the North-East of the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope_, p. 322 _sq._] According to the Zoroastrian Yasts, Rashnu Razista was "the best killer, smiter, destroyer of thieves and bandits."[160] In Greece Zeus [Greek: ktê/sios] was a guardian of the family property;[161] and according to a Roman tradition the domestic god repulsed the robber and kept off the enemy.[162] The removing of landmarks {61} has frequently been regarded as sacrilegious.[163] It was strictly prohibited by the religious law of the Hebrews.[164] In Greece boundaries were protected by Zeus [Greek: o(/rios]. Plato says in his 'Laws':--"Let no one shift the boundary line either of a fellow-citizen who is a neighbour, or, if he dwells at the extremity of the land, of any stranger who is conterminous with him. . . . Every one should be more willing to move the largest rock which is not a land mark, than the least stone which is the sworn mark of friendship and hatred between neighbours; for Zeus, the god of kindred, is the witness of the citizen, and Zeus, the god of strangers, of the stranger, and when aroused terrible are the wars which they stir up. He who obeys the law will never know the fatal consequences of disobedience, but he who despises the law shall be liable to a double penalty, the first coming from the Gods, and the second from the law."[165] The Romans worshipped Terminus or Jupiter Terminalis as the god of boundaries.[166] According to an old tradition, Numa directed that every one should mark the bounds of his landed property by stones consecrated to Jupiter, that yearly sacrifices should be offered to them at the festival of the Terminalia, and that, "if any person demolished or displaced these bound-stones, he should be looked upon as devoted to this god, to the end that anybody might kill him as a sacrilegious person with impunity and without being defiled with guilt."[167] In the higher religions theft of any kind is frequently condemned as a sin. [Footnote 160: _Yasts_, xii. 8.] [Footnote 161: Aeschylus, _Supplices_, 445. Farnell, _Cults of the Greek States_, i. 55.] [Footnote 162: Ovid, _Fasti_, v. 141.] [Footnote 163: Trumbull, _The Threshold Covenant_, p. 166 _sq._] [Footnote 164: _Deuteronomy_, xix. 14; xxvii. 17. _Proverbs_, xxii. 28; xxiii. 10 _sq._ _Hosea_, v. 10. _Cf._ _Job_, xxiv. 2.] [Footnote 165: Plato, _Leges_, viii. 842 _sq._ Demosthenes, _Oratio de Halonneso_, 39, p. 86. See also Hermann, _Disputatio de terminis eorumque religione apud Græcos_, _passim_.] [Footnote 166: Ovid, _Fasti_, ii. 639 _sqq._ Festus, _De verborum significatione_ 'Termino.' Lactantius, _Divinæ Institutiones_, i. 10 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, vi. 227 _sqq._). Pauly, _Real-Encyclopädie der classischen Alterthumswissenschaft_, vi. pt. ii. 1707 _sqq._ Fowler, _Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic_, p. 324 _sqq._] [Footnote 167: Dionysius of Halicarnassus, _Antiquitates Romanæ_, ii. 74. Plutarch, _Numa_, xvi. i. Festus, _op. cit._ 'Termino.'] This religious sanction given to ownership is no doubt in some measure due to the same circumstances as, in certain cases, make morality in general a matter of divine {62} concern--a subject which will be dealt with in a future chapter. But there are also special reasons which account for it. Partly it has its origin in magic practices, particularly in the curse. Cursing is a frequent method of punishing criminals who cannot be reached in any other way.[168] In the Book of Judges we read of Micah's mother who had pronounced a curse with reference to the money stolen from her, and afterwards, when her son had confessed his guilt, hastened to render it ineffective by a blessing.[169] In early Arabia the owner of stolen property had recourse to cursing in order to recover what he had lost.[170] In Samoa "the party from whom anything had been stolen, if he knew not the thief, would seek satisfaction in sitting down and deliberately cursing him."[171] The Kamchadales "think they can punish an undiscovered theft by burning the sinews of the stonebuck in a publick meeting with great ceremonies of conjuration, believing that as these sinews are contracted by the fire so the thief will have all his limbs contracted."[172] Among the Ossetes, if an object has been secretly stolen, its owner secures the assistance of a sorcerer. They proceed together to the house of any person whom they suspect, the sorcerer carrying under his arm a cat, which is regarded as a particularly enchanted animal. He exclaims, "If thou hast stolen the article and dost not restore it to its owner, may this cat torment the souls of thy ancestors!" And such an imprecation is generally followed by a speedy restitution of the stolen property. Again, if their suspicions rest upon no particular individual, they proceed in the same manner from house to house, and the thief then, knowing that his turn must come, frequently confesses his guilt at once.[173] A common mode of detecting the perpetrator of a theft is to compel the suspected individual to make oath, {63} that is to say, to pronounce a conditional curse upon himself.[174] [Footnote 168: See, _e.g._, Mason, in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxxvii. pt. ii. 149 (Karens).] [Footnote 169: _Judges_, xvii. 2.] [Footnote 170: Wellhausen, _Reste arabischen Heidentums_, p. 192.] [Footnote 171: Turner, _Nineteen Years in Polynesia_, p. 318.] [Footnote 172: Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, p. 179 _sq._] [Footnote 173: von Haxthausen, _Transcaucasia_, p. 398 _sq._] [Footnote 174: von Struve, in _Das Ausland_, 1880, p. 796 (Samoyedes). Worcester, _Philippine Islands_, p. 412 (Mangyans of Mindoro). Turner, _Nineteen Years in Polynesia_, p. 292 _sq._ (Samoans). Bosman, _op. cit._ p. 125 (Negroes of the Gold Coast). Bowdich, _Mission to Ashantee_, p. 267; &c.] Cursing is resorted to not only for the purpose of punishing thieves or compelling them to restore what they have stolen, but also as a means of preventing theft. In the South Sea Islands it is a common practice to protect property by making it _taboo_, and the tabooing of an object is, as Dr. Codrington puts it, "a prohibition with a curse expressed or implied."[175] The curse is then, in many cases, deposited in some article which is attached to the thing or place it is intended to protect. The mark of taboo, in Polynesia called _rahui_ or _raui_, sometimes consists of a cocoa-nut leaf plaited in a particular way,[176] sometimes of a wooden image of a man or a carved post stuck in the ground,[177] sometimes of a bunch of human hair or a piece of an old mat,[178] and so forth. In Samoa there were various forms of taboo which formed a powerful check on stealing, especially from plantations and fruit-trees, and each was known by a special name indicating the sort of curse which the owner wished would fall on the thief. Thus, if a man desired that a sea-pike should run into the body of the person who attempted to steal, say, his bread-fruits, he would plait some cocoa-nut leaflets in the form of a sea-pike, and suspend it from one or more of the trees which he wanted to protect. This was called the "sea-pike taboo"; and any ordinary thief would be terrified to touch a tree from which this was suspended, believing that, if he did so, a fish of the said description would dart up and mortally wound him the next time he went to the sea. The "white shark taboo" was done by plaiting a cocoa-nut leaf in the form of a shark, and was tantamount to an {64} expressed imprecation that the thief might be devoured by the white shark when he went to fish. The "cross-stick taboo," again, consisted of a stick suspended horizontally from the tree, and meant that any thief touching the tree would have a disease running right across his body and remaining fixed there till he died.[179] Exactly equivalent to the taboo of the Pacific Islanders is the _pomali_ of the natives of Timor; "a few palm leaves stuck outside a garden as a sign of the _pomali_ will preserve its produce from thieves as effectually as the threatening notice of man-traps, spring-guns, or a savage dog, would do with us."[180] Among the Santals, whenever a person "is desirous of protecting a patch of jungle from the axes of the villagers, or a patch of grass from being grazed over, or a newly sown field from being trespassed upon, he erects a bamboo in his patch of grass or field, to which is affixed a tuft of straw, or in the case of jungle some prominent and lofty tree has the same prohibitory mark attached, which mark is well understood and strictly observed by all parties interested."[181] So also in Madagascar "on rencontre sur les chemins, on voit dans les champs de longs bâtons munis à leur sommet d'un paquet d'herbes et qui sont plantés en terre soit pour interdire le passage du terrain soit pour indiquer que les récoltes sont réservées à l'usage d'individus déterminés."[182] Among the Washambala the owner of a field sometimes puts a stick wound round with a banana leaf on the road to it, believing that anybody who without permission enters the field "will be subject to the curse of this charm."[183] The Wadshagga protect a doorless hut against burglars by placing a banana leaf over the threshold, and any maliciously inclined person who dares to step over it is supposed to get ill or die.[184] The Akka "stick an arrow in a bunch of bananas still on the stalk to mark it as their own {65} when ripe," and then not even the owner of the tree would think of touching the fruit so claimed by others.[185] Of the Barotse we are told that "when they do not want a thing touched they spit on straws and stick them all about the object."[186] When a Balonda has placed a beehive on a tree, he ties a "piece of medicine" round the trunk, and this will prove sufficient protection against thieves.[187] Jacob of Edessa tells us of a Syrian priest who wrote a curse and hung it on a tree, that nobody might eat the fruit.[188] In the early days of Islam a masterful man reserved water for his own use by hanging pieces of fringe of his red blanket on a tree beside it, or by throwing them into the pool;[189] and in modern Palestine nobody dares to touch the piles of stones which are placed on the boundaries of landed property.[190] The old inhabitants of Cumaná on the Caribbean Sea used to mark off their plantations by a single cotton thread, in the belief that anybody tampering with these boundary marks would speedily die.[191] A similar idea seems still to prevail among the Indians of the Amazon. Among the Jurís a traveller noticed that in places where the hedge surrounding a field was broken, it was replaced by a cotton string; and when Brazilian Indians leave their huts they often wind a piece of the same material round the latch of the door.[192] Sometimes they also hang baskets, rags, or flaps of bark on their landmarks.[193] In these and in various other instances just referred to it is not expressly stated that the taboo mark embodies a curse, but their similarity to cases in which it does so is striking enough to {66} preclude much doubt about their real meaning. It is true that an object which is sacred by itself may, on that account, protect everything in its neighbourhood;[194] in Morocco any article deposited in the _[h.]orm_ of a saint is safe, and among pagan Africans the same effect is produced by using fetishes as protectors of fields or houses.[195] But a thing of inherent holiness may also be chosen for taboo purposes for the reason that its sanctity is supposed to give particular efficacy to any curse with which it may be loaded. [Footnote 175: Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 215.] [Footnote 176: Taylor White, in _Jour. Polynesian Soc._ i. 275.] [Footnote 177: Hamilton, _Maori Art_, p. 102; Thomson, _Story of New Zealand_, i. 102; Polack, _op. cit._ ii. 70 (Maoris). Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, iii. 116 (Tahitians).] [Footnote 178: Thomson, _op. cit._ i. 102 (Maoris). See also Colenso, _op. cit._ p. 34 (Maoris); Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, iii. 201 (Tahitians).] [Footnote 179: Turner, _Nineteen Years in Polynesia_, p. 294 _sqq._] [Footnote 180: Wallace, _Malay Archipelago_, p. 149 _sq._] [Footnote 181: Sherwill, 'Tour through the Rájmahal Hills,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xx. 568.] [Footnote 182: van Gennep, _Tabou et totémisme à Madagascar_, p. 184 _sqq._] [Footnote 183: Lang, in Steinmetz, _Rechtverhältnisse_, p. 263.] [Footnote 184: Volkens, _op. cit._ p. 254.] [Footnote 185: Junker, _Travels in Africa during the Years 1882-1886_, p. 86.] [Footnote 186: Decle, _op. cit._ p. 77.] [Footnote 187: Livingstone, _Missionary Travels_, p. 285.] [Footnote 188: Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 164, n. 1.] [Footnote 189: _Ibid._ p. 336, n. 1.] [Footnote 190: Pierotti, _Customs and Traditions of Palestine_, p. 95 _sq._ According to Roman sources (_Digesta_, xlvii. 11. 9), there was in the province of Arabia an offence called [Greek: skopelismo/s], which consisted in laying stones on an enemy's ground as a threat that if the owner cultivated the land "malo leto periturus esset insidiis eorum, qui scopulos posuissent"; and so great was the fear of such stones that nobody would go near a field where they had been put.] [Footnote 191: Gomara, _Primera parte de la historia general de las Indias_, ch. 79 (_Biblioteca de autores españoles_, xxii. 206).] [Footnote 192: von Martius, _Von dem Rechtszustande unter den Ureinwohnern Brasiliens_, p. 37 _sq._] [Footnote 193: _Ibid._ p. 34.] [Footnote 194: _Cf._ van Gennep, _op. cit._ p. 185 (natives of Madagascar). It was an ancient Roman usage to inter the dead in the field belonging to the family, and in the works of the elder Cato there is a formula according to which the Italian labourer prayed the manes to take good care against thieves (Fustel de Coulanges, _op. cit._ p. 75). Cicero says (_Pro domo_, 41) that the house of each citizen was sacred because his household gods were there.] [Footnote 195: Rowley, _Africa Unveiled_, p. 174. Bastian, _Afrikanische Reisen_, p. 78 _sq._ 3 Nassau, _Fetichism in West Africa_, p. 85. _Cf._ Schneider, _Die Religion der afrikanischen Naturvölker_, p. 230. If we knew the ceremonies with which magicians transform ordinary material objects into fetishes, we might perhaps find that they charge them with curses. Dr. Nassau says (_op. cit._ p. 85):--"For every human passion or desire of every part of our nature, for our thousand necessities or wishes, a fetich can be made, its operation being directed to the attainment of one specified wish." See also Schultze, _Der Fetischismus_, p. 109.] We have previously noticed another method of charging a curse with magic energy, namely, by giving it the form of an appeal to a supernatural being.[196] So also spirits or gods are frequently invoked in curses referring to theft. On the Gold Coast, "when the owner of land sees that some one has been making a clearing on his land, he cuts the young inner branches of the palm tree and hangs them about the place where the trespass has been committed. As he hangs each leaf he says something to the following effect: 'The person who did this and did not make it known to me before he did it, if he comes here to do any other thing, may fetish Katawere (or Tanor or Fofie or other fetish) kill him and all his family.'"[197] In Samoa, in the case of a theft, the suspected persons had to swear before the chiefs, each one invoking the village god to send swift destruction if he had committed the crime; and if all had sworn and the culprit was still undiscovered, the chiefs solemnly made a similar invocation on behalf of the {67} thief.[198] The Hawaiians seem likewise to have appealed to an avenging deity in certain cursing ceremonies, which they performed for the purpose of detecting or punishing thieves.[199] In ancient Greece it was a custom to dedicate a lost article to a deity, with a curse for those who kept it.[200] Of the Melanesian taboo, again, Dr. Codrington observes that the power at the back of it "is that of the ghost or spirit in whose name, or in reliance upon whom, it is pronounced."[201] In Ceylon, "to prevent fruit being stolen, the people hang up certain grotesque figures around the orchard and dedicate it to the devils, after which none of the native Ceylonese will dare even to touch the fruit on any account. Even the owner will not venture to use it till it be first liberated from the dedication."[202] On the landmarks of the ancient Babylonians, generally consisting of stone pillars in the form of a phallus, imprecations were inscribed with appeals to various deities. One of these boundary stones contains the following curse directed against the violator of its sacredness:--"Upon this man may the great gods Anu, Bêl, Ea, and Nusku, look wrathfully, uproot his foundation, and destroy his offspring"; and similar invocations are then made to many other gods.[203] [Footnote 196: _Supra_, i. 564.] [Footnote 197: _Jour. African Soc._ 110 xviii. January, 1906, p. 203.] [Footnote 198: Turner, _Samoa_, p. 19. _Idem_, _Nineteen Years in Polynesia_, p. 292 _sq._] [Footnote 199: Jarves, _History of the Hawaiian Islands_, p. 20.] [Footnote 200: Rouse, _Greek Votive Offerings_, p. 339.] [Footnote 201: Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 215.] [Footnote 202: Percival, _Account of the Island of Ceylon_, p. 198.] [Footnote 203: Trumbull, _The Threshold Covenant_, p. 166 _sq._ Hilprecht, quoted _ibid._ p. 167 _sqq._] Now we can understand why gods so frequently take notice of offences against property. They are invoked in curses uttered against thieves; the invocation in a curse easily develops into a genuine prayer, and where this is the case the god is supposed to punish the offender of his own free will. Besides, he may be induced to do so by offerings. And when often appealed to in connection with theft, a supernatural being may finally come to be looked upon as a guardian of property. This, for instance, I take to be the explanation of the belief prevalent among the Berbers {68} of [H.]a[h.]a, in Southern Morocco, that some of the local saints punish thieves who approach their sanctuaries, even though the theft was committed elsewhere; being constantly appealed to in oaths taken by persons suspected of theft, they have become the permanent enemies of thieves. We can, further, understand why in some cases certain offences against property have actually assumed the character of a sacrilege, even apart from such as are committed in the proximity of a supernatural being. Curses are sometimes personified and elevated to the rank of divine agents; this, as we have seen, is the origin of the Erinyes of parents, beggars, and strangers, and of the Roman _divi parentum_ and _dii hospitales_; and this is also in all probability the origin of the god Terminus.[204] Or the curse may be transformed into an attribute of the chief god, not only because he is frequently appealed to in connection with offences of a certain kind, but also because such a god has a tendency to attract supernatural forces which are in harmony with his general nature. This explains the origin of conceptions such as Zeus [Greek: o(/rios] and Jupiter Terminalis, as well as the extreme severity with which Yahweh treated the removal of landmarks. In all these cases there are indications of a connection between the god and a curse. Apart from other evidence to be found in Semitic antiquities, there is the anathema of _Deuteronomy_, "Cursed be he that removeth his neighbour's landmark."[205] That the boundary stones dedicated to Zeus [Greek: o(/rios] were originally charged with imprecations appears from a passage in Plato's 'Laws' quoted above,[206] as also from inscriptions made on them.[207] The Etruscans cursed anyone who should touch or displace a boundary mark:--Such a person shall be condemned by the gods; his house shall disappear; his race shall be extinguished; his limbs shall be covered with ulcers and waste away; his land shall no longer produce {69} fruits; hail, rust, and the fires of the dog-star shall destroy his harvests.[208] Considering the important part played by blood as a conductor of imprecations, it is not improbable that the Roman ceremony of letting the blood of a sacrificial animal flow into the hole where the landmark was to be placed[209] was intended to give efficacy to a curse. In some parts of England a custom of annually "beating the bounds" of a parish has survived up to the present time, and this ceremony was formerly accompanied by religious services, in which a clergyman invoked curses on him who should transgress the bounds of his neighbour, and blessings on him who should regard the landmarks.[210] [Footnote 204: _Cf._ Festus, _op. cit._ 'Termino':--"Numa Pompilius statuit eum, qui terminum exarasset, et ipsum, et boves sacros esse."] [Footnote 205: _Deuteronomy_, xxvii. 17. _Cf._ _Genesis_, xxxi. 44 _sqq._] [Footnote 206: Plato, _Leges_, viii. 843: ". . . [Greek: ê)\n smikron li/thon o(ri/zonta philai/n kai\ e)/chthran e)/norkon para\ theô=n.]"] [Footnote 207: Xenophon, _Anabasis_, v. 3. 13. Hermann, _Disputatio de terminis apud Græcos_, p. 11.] [Footnote 208: _Rei agrariæ auctores legesque variæ_, edited by G[oe]sius, p. 258 _sq._] [Footnote 209: Siculus Flaccus, 'De conditionibus agrorum,' in _Rei agrariæ auctores_, p. 5.] [Footnote 210: Dibbs, 'Beating the Bounds,' in _Chambers's Edinburgh Journal_, N.S. xx. (1853) 49 _sqq._ Trumbull, _The Threshold Covenant_, p. 174 _sq._] The practice of cursing a thief may possibly even be at the bottom of the belief of some savages that such a person will be punished after death. In a following chapter we shall notice instances where the efficacy of a curse is supposed to extend beyond the grave. But we shall also find other reasons for savage doctrines of retribution in the world to come. In the cases referred to above it is not expressly said that the _post mortem_ punishment of the thief is inflicted by a god. * * * * * I have here only dealt with rules relating to property which have been recognised by custom or law. But the established principles of ownership have not always been admitted to be just: in the civilised countries of the West they have called forth an opposition which is rapidly gaining in strength. The limited scope of the present work does not allow me to attempt a detailed account of this movement, with its variety of arguments and its multitudinous schemes of reform. The main reasons for complaint are:--first, that our actual law of property does not ensure to every labourer the whole produce of his labour; secondly, that it does not provide for every want {70} a satisfaction proportionate to the available means. However much the opinions of the different schools of socialists may vary, every socialist organisation of property aims either at guaranteeing to the working-classes the entire product of their industry, or at reducing to just proportions individual needs and existing means of satisfaction by recognising the claim of every member of society to the commodities and services necessary to support existence, in preference to the satisfaction of the less pressing wants of others.[211] These aims are greatly hampered by the present system, in which land and capital are the property of private individuals freely struggling for increase of wealth, and especially by the legally recognised existence of unearned income[212]--the "rent" of the Saint-Simonians, the "surplus value" (_Mehrwert_) of Thompson and Marx,--for which the favoured recipient returns no personal equivalent to society, and which he is able to pocket because the wage labourer receives in money-wages less than the full value of the produce of his work. We have here a conflict between different principles of acquisition. Both the rule that the owner of a thing also owns what results from it, and the law of inheritance, leading as they do to unearned income, are intruding upon the principle of labour as a source of property. They, moreover, interfere with the right to subsistence, which in some measure, though often insufficiently, is recognised in all human societies;[213] for, as Marx observed, the accumulation of wealth at one pole means the accumulation of misery at the opposite pole.[214] This conflict between different principles or rights, all of which have deep foundations in human nature and the conditions of social life, has been brought about by certain {71} facts inherent in progressive civilisation. In simple societies the unearned income is small, because no fortunes exist, and the wants of those who are incapable of earning their own livelihood are provided for by the system of mutual aid. Progress in culture, on the other hand, has been accompanied by a more unequal distribution of wealth, and also by a decrease of social solidarity as a result of the increase and greater differentiation of the social unit. The unearned income has grown larger, the disproportion between the returns on capital and the reward for labour has in many cases become enormous, and hand in hand with the opulence of some goes the destitution of others. At the same time the injustice of prerogatives based on birth or fortune is keenly felt, the dignity of labour is recognised, and the working-classes are every day becoming more conscious both of their power and their rights. All this has resulted in a strong and wide-spread conviction that the actual law of property greatly differs from the ideal law. But much struggle will no doubt be required to bring them in harmony with one another. The present rights of property are supported not only by personal interests, but also by a deep-rooted feeling, trained in the school of tradition, that it would be iniquitous of the State to interfere with individuals' long-established claims to use at their pleasure the objects of wealth. The new scheme, on the other hand, derives strength from the fact that it aims at rectifying legal rights in accordance with existing needs, and that it lays stress on a method of acquisition which more than any other seems to appeal to the natural sense of justice in man. We are utterly unable to foresee in detail the issue of this struggle. But that the law of property will sooner or later undergo a radical change must be obvious to every one who realises that, though ideas of right and wrong may for some time outlive the conditions from which they sprang, they cannot do so for ever. [Footnote 211: See Menger, _Right to the whole Produce of Labour_, p. 5 _sqq._, Goos, _op. cit._ ii. 61.] [Footnote 212: The term "unearned income" (_arbeitsloses Einkommen_) has been proposed by Menger (_op. cit._ p. 3).] [Footnote 213: See _supra_, ch. xxiii., vol. i. 526 _sqq._ Among the Eskimo about Behring Strait (Nelson, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 294) and the Greenlanders (Rink, _Eskimo Tales_, p. 29 _sq._), if a man borrows an article from another and fails to return it, the owner is not entitled to claim it back, as they consider that when a person has enough property to enable him to lend some of it he has more than he needs.] [Footnote 214: Marx, _Capital_, p. 661.] CHAPTER XXX THE REGARD FOR TRUTH AND GOOD FAITH THE regard for truth implies in the first place that we ought to abstain from lying, that is, a wilful misrepresentation of facts, by word or deed, with the intention of producing a false belief. Closely connected with this duty is that of good faith or fidelity to promises, which requires that we should make facts correspond with our emphatic assertions as to our conduct in the future. Within certain limits these duties seem to be universally recognised, though the censure passed on the transgressor varies extremely in degree. But there are also many cases in which untruthfulness and bad faith are looked upon with indifference, or even held laudable or obligatory. Various uncivilised races are conspicuous for their great regard for truth; of some savages it is said that not even the most trying circumstances can induce them to tell a lie. Among others, again, falsehood is found to be a prevailing vice and the successful lie a matter of popular admiration. All authorities agree that the Veddahs of Ceylon are models of veracity. They "are proverbially truthful and honest."[1] They think it perfectly inconceivable that any person should say anything which is not true.[2] Mr. Nevill writes, "I never knew a true Vaedda to tell a lie, and the Sinhalese give them the same character."[3] Messrs. Sarasin had a similar experience:{73}--"The genuine Wood-Wedda always speaks the truth; we never heard a lie from any of them; all their statements are short and true."[4] A Veddah who had committed murder and was tried for it, instead of telling a lie in order to escape punishment, said simply nothing.[5] [Footnote 1: Bailey, 'Wild Tribes of the Veddahs of Ceylon,' in _Trans. Ethn. Soc._ N.S. ii. 291.] [Footnote 2: Hartshorne, in _Indian Antiquary_, viii. 320.] [Footnote 3: Nevill, in _Taprobanian_, i. 193.] [Footnote 4: Sarasin, _Forschungen auf Ceylon_, iii. 541. _Cf._ _ibid._ iii. 542 _sq._; Schmidt, _Ceylon_, p. 276.] [Footnote 5: Sarasin, _op. cit._ iii. 543.] Other instances of extreme truthfulness are provided by various uncivilised tribes in India. The Saoras of the province of Madras, "like most of the hill people, . . . are not inclined to lying. If one Saora kill another he admits it at once and tells why he killed him."[6] The highlander of Central India is described as "the most truthful of beings, and rarely denies either a money obligation or a crime really chargeable against him."[7] A true Gond "will commit a murder, but he will not tell a lie."[8] The Kandhs, says Macpherson, "are, I believe, inferior in veracity to no people in the world. . . . It is in all cases imperative to tell the truth, except when deception is necessary to save the life of a guest."[9] And to break a solemn pledge of friendship is, in their opinion, one of the greatest sins a man can commit.[10] The Korwás inhabiting the highlands of Sirgúja--though they show great cruelty in committing robberies, putting to death the whole of the party attacked, even when unresisting--"have what one might call the savage virtue of truthfulness to an extraordinary degree, and, rightly accused, will at once confess and give you every required detail of the crime."[11] The Santals are noted for veracity and fidelity to their word even in the most trying circumstances.[12] A Kurubar "always speaks the truth."[13] Among the Hos "a reflection on a man's honesty or veracity may be sufficient to send him to self-destruction."[14] Among the Angami Nagas simple truth is highly regarded; it is rare for a statement to be made on oath, and rarer still for it to be false.[15] In the Chittagong Hills the Tipperahs are the only people among whom Captain Lewin {74} has met with meanness and lying;[16] and they, too, have previously been said to be, "as a rule, truthful and simple-minded.**"[17] The Karens of Burma have the following traditional precept:--"Do not speak falsehood. What you do not know, do not speak. Liars shall have their tongues cut out."[18] Among the Bannavs of Cambodia "severe penalties, such as slavery or exile, are imposed for lying."[19] [Footnote 6: Fawcett, _Saoras_, p. 17.] [Footnote 7: Forsyth, _Highlands of Central India_, p. 164. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 361; Sleeman, _Rambles and Recollections of an Indian Official_, ii. 109; Hislop, _Aboriginal Tribes of the Central Provinces_, p. 1.] [Footnote 8: Dalton, _Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 284. _Cf._ Forsyth, _op. cit._ p. 155.] [Footnote 9: Macpherson, 'Religious Opinions and Observances of the Khonds,' in _Jour. Roy. Asiatic Soc._ vii. 196.] [Footnote 10: Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 94.] [Footnote 11: Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 230.] [Footnote 12: Elliot, 'Characteristics of the Population of Central and Southern India,' in _Jour. Ethn. Soc. London_, N.S. i. 106 _sq._] [Footnote 13: _Ibid._ i. 105.] [Footnote 14: Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 206. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 204 _sq._; Bradley-Birt, _Chota Nagpore_, p. 103.] [Footnote 15: Prain, 'Angami Nagas,' in _Revue coloniale internationale_, v. 490.] [Footnote 16: Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, p. 191.] [Footnote 17: Browne, quoted by Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 110.] [Footnote 18: Smeaton, _Loyal Karens of India_, p. 254.] [Footnote 19: Comte, quoted by Mouhot, _Travels in Indo-China, Cambodia, and Laos_, ii. 27. For the truthfulness of the uncivilised races of India see also Sleeman, _op. cit._ ii. 110 _sqq._; Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 256 (Oraons); Crooke, _Tribes and Castes of the North-Western Provinces_, ii. 478 (Hâbûra); Fraser, _Tour through the Him[=a]l[=a] Mountains_, pp. 264 (inhabitants of Kunawur), 335 (Bhoteas); Iyer, in the Madras Government Museum's _Bulletin_, iv. 73 (Nay[=a]dis of Malabar); Walhouse, 'Account of a Leaf-wearing Tribe on the Western Coast of India,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ iv. 370 (Koragars).] The Andaman Islanders call falsehood _y[=u]bda_, that is, sin or wrong-doing.[20] The natives of Car Nicobar are not only very honest,[21] but "the accusation of untruthfulness brings them up in arms immediately."[22] The Dyaks of Borneo are praised for their honesty and great regard for truth.[23] Mr. Bock states that if they could not satisfactorily reply to his questions they hesitated to answer at all, and that if he did not always get the whole truth he always got at least nothing but the truth from them.[24] Veracity is a characteristic of the Alfura of Halmahera[25] and the Bataks of Sumatra, who only in cases of urgent necessity have recourse to a lie.[26] The Javanese, says Crawfurd, "are honourably distinguished from all the civilised nations of Asia by a regard for truth."[27] "In their intercourse with society," Raffles observes, "they display, in a high degree, the virtues of honesty, plain dealing, and candour. Their ingenuousness is such that, as the first Dutch authorities have acknowledged, prisoners brought to the bar on criminal charges, if really guilty, nine times out of ten confess, without disguise or equivocation, the full extent and exact circumstances of their offences, and communicate, when required, more information on the matter at issue than all the rest of the evidence."[28] Among the natives {75} of the Malay Archipelago there are some further instances of trustworthy and truthful peoples;[29] whereas others are described as distrustful and regardless of truth.[30] Thus the natives of Timor-laut lie without compunction when they think they can escape detection,[31] and of the Niase it is said that "truth is their bitter enemy."[32] [Footnote 20: Man, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 112.] [Footnote 21: Distant, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ iii. 4.] [Footnote 22: Kloss, _In the Andamans and Nicobars_, p. 227 _sq._] [Footnote 23: Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, i. 66-68, 82. Boyle, _Adventures among the Dyaks of Borneo_, p. 215. Selenka, _Sonnige Welten_, p. 47.] [Footnote 24: Bock, _Head-Hunters of Borneo_, p. 209.] [Footnote 25: Kükenthal, _Forschungsreise in den Molukken_, p. 188.] [Footnote 26: Junghuhn, _Battaländer auf Sumatra_, ii. 239.] [Footnote 27: Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, i. 50.] [Footnote 28: Raffles, _History of Java_, i. 248.] [Footnote 29: Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua_, p. 96 (Serangese). St. John, _Life in the Forests of the Far East_, ii. 322 (Malays of Sarawak).] [Footnote 30: Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 209 (natives of the interior of Sumatra). Riedel, _op. cit._ p. 314 (natives of the Luang-Sermata group). Steller, _De Sangi-Archipel_, p. 23.] [Footnote 31: Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 320.] [Footnote 32: Modigliani, _Viaggio a Nías_, p. 467.] Veracity and probity were conspicuous virtues among various uncivilised peoples belonging to the Russian Empire. Georgi, whose work dates from the eighteenth century, says of the Chuvashes that they "content themselves with a simple affirmation or denial, and always keep their word";[33] of the Barabinzes, that "lying, duplicity, and fraud, are unknown among them";[34] of the Tunguses, that they "always appear to be what they really are," and that "lying seems to them the absurdest thing in the world, which prevents them being either suspicious or necessitated to accompany their affirmations by oaths or solemn protestations";[35] of the Kurilians, that they always speak the truth "with the most scrupulous fidelity."[36] Castrén states that the Zyrians, like the Finnish tribes generally, are trustworthy and honest,[37] and that the Ostyaks have no other oaths but those of purgation. Among them "witnesses never take the oath, but their words are unconditionally believed in, and everybody, with the exception of lunatics, is allowed to give evidence. Children may witness against their parents, brothers against brothers, a husband against his wife, and a wife against her husband."[38] [Footnote 33: Georgi, _Russia_, i. 110.] [Footnote 34: _Ibid._ ii. 229.] [Footnote 35: _Ibid._ iii. 78. _Cf._ _ibid._ iii. 109.] [Footnote 36: _Ibid._ iii. 192. _Cf._ Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, p. 236.] [Footnote 37: Castrén, _Nordiska resor och forskningar_, i. 257.] [Footnote 38: _Ibid._ i. 309 _sq._] The Aleuts were highly praised by Father Veniaminof for their truthfulness:--"These people detest lying, and never spread false rumours. . . . They are very much offended if any one doubts their word." They "despise hypocrisy in every respect," and "do not flatter nor make empty promises, even in order to escape reproof."[39] The regard in which truth is held by the Eskimo seems to vary among different tribes. Armstrong blames the Western Eskimo for being much {76} addicted to falsehood, and for seldom telling the truth, if there be anything to gain by a lie.[40] The Point Barrow Eskimo "are in the main truthful, though a detected lie is hardly considered more than a good joke, and considerable trickery is practised in trading."[41] Of the Eskimo at Igloolik, an island near Melville Peninsula, we are told that "their lies consist only of vilifying each other's character, with false accusations of theft or ill behaviour. When asking questions of an individual, it is but rarely that he will either advance or persist in an untruth. . . . Lying among them is almost exclusively confined to the ladies."[42] In his description of the Eskimo on the western side of Davis Strait and in the region of Frobisher Bay, Mr. Hall says that they despise and shun one who will _shag-la-voo_, that is, "tell a lie," and that they are rarely troubled by any of this class.[43] The Greenlanders are generally truthful towards each other, at least the men.[44] But if he can help it, a Greenlander will not tell a truth which he thinks may be unpleasant to the hearer, as he is anxious to stand on as good a footing as possible with his fellow-men.[45] [Footnote 39: Veniaminof, quoted by Dall, _Alaska_, pp. 396, 395.] [Footnote 40: Armstrong, _Discovery of the North-West Passage_, p. 196 _sq._] [Footnote 41: Murdoch, 'Ethnological Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 41.] [Footnote 42: Lyon, _Private Journal during the Voyage of Discovery under Captain Parry_, p. 349.] [Footnote 43: Hall, _Arctic Researches_, p. 567.] [Footnote 44: Dalager, _Grønlandske Relationer_, p. 69. Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 171, 175. Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 158.] [Footnote 45: Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 101. _Idem_, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 334 _sq._] The Thompson River Indians of British Columbia maintain that it is bad to lie, that if you do so people will laugh at you and call you a "liar."[46] Speaking of the Iroquois, Mr. Morgan says that the love of truth was a marked trait of the Indian character. "This inborn sentiment flourished in the period of their highest prosperity, in all the freshness of its primeval purity. On all occasions and at whatever peril, the Iroquois spoke the truth without fear and without hesitation. Dissimulation was not an Indian habit. . . . The Iroquois prided themselves upon their sacred regard for the public faith, and punished the want of it with severity when an occasion presented itself."[47] Loskiel likewise states that they considered lying and cheating heinous and scandalous offences.[48] Among the Chippewas there were a few persons addicted to lying, but these {77} were held in disrepute.[49] The Shoshones, a tribe of the Snake Indians, were frank and communicative in their intercourse with strangers, and perfectly fair in their dealings.[50] The Seminole Indians of Florida are commended for their truthfulness.[51] With special reference to the Navahos, Mr. Matthews observes, "As the result of over thirty years' experience among Indians, I must say that I have not found them less truthful than the average of our own race."[52] Among the Dacotahs lying "is considered very bad"; yet in this respect "every one sees the mote in his brother's eye, but does not discover the beam that is in his own,"[53] want of truthfulness and habitual dishonesty in little things being prevalent traits in their character.[54] So, also, the Thlinkets admit that falsehood is criminal, although they have recourse to it without hesitation whenever it suits their purpose.[55] Of the Chippewyans, again, it is said that they carry the habit of lying to such an extent, even among themselves, that they can scarcely be said to esteem truth a virtue.[56] The Crees are "not very strict in their adherence to truth, being great boasters."[57] Heriot[58] and Adair[59] speak of the treacherous or deceitful disposition of the North American Indians; but the latter adds that, though "privately dishonest," they are "very faithful indeed to their own tribe." [Footnote 46: Teit, 'Thompson Indians of British Columbia,' in _Memoirs of the American Museum of Natural History_, Anthropology, i. 366.] [Footnote 47: Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, pp. 335, 338.] [Footnote 48: Loskiel, _History of the Mission of the United Brethren among the Indians in North America_, i. 16.] [Footnote 49: Keating, _Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River_, ii. 168.] [Footnote 50: Lewis and Clarke, _Travels to the Source of the Missouri River_, p. 306.] [Footnote 51: Maccauley, 'Seminole Indians of Florida,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ v. 491.] [Footnote 52: Matthews, 'Study of Ethics among the Lower Races,' in _Jour. of American Folk-Lore_, xii. 5.] [Footnote 53: Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, ii. 196.] [Footnote 54: Eastman, _Dacotah_, p. xvii.] [Footnote 55: Douglas, quoted by Petroff, _Report on Alaska_, p. 177.] [Footnote 56: Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, ii. 18. _Cf._ _ibid._ ii. 19.] [Footnote 57: Richardson, in Franklin, _Journey to the Shores of the Polar Sea_, p. 63.] [Footnote 58: Heriot, _Travels through the Canadas_, p. 319.] [Footnote 59: Adair, _History of the American Indians_, p. 4.] Of the regard in which truth is held by the Indians of South America the authorities I have consulted have little to say. The Coroados are not deceitful.[60] The Tehuelches of Patagonia nearly always lie in minor affairs, and will invent stories for sheer amusement. "In anything of importance, however, such as guaranteeing the safety of a person, they were very truthful, as long as faith was kept with them. After a time," Lieutenant Musters adds, "when they ascertained that I invariably avoided deviating in any way from the truth, they left off lying to me even in minor matters. This will serve to show that they are not of the treacherous nature assigned to {78} them by some ignorant writers."[61] Among the Fuegians, according to Mr. Bridge, no one can trust another, lying tales of slander are very common, great exaggeration is used, and it is not even considered wrong to tell a lie.[62] Snow, however, speaks of "the honesty they undoubtedly evince in many of their transactions";[63] and Darwin states that the Fuegian boy on board the Beagle "showed, by going into the most violent passion, that he quite understood the reproach of being called a liar, which in truth he was."[64] [Footnote 60: von Spix and von Martius, _Travels in Brazil_, ii. 242.] [Footnote 61: Musters, _At Home with the Patagonians_, p. 195 _sq._] [Footnote 62: Bridges, in _A Voice for South America_, xiii. 202 _sq._ _Cf._ Hyades and Deniker, _Mission scientifique du Cap Horn_, vii. 242; King and Fitzroy, _Voyages of the "Adventure" and "Beagle,"_ ii. 188.] [Footnote 63: Snow, _Two Years Cruise off Tierra del Fuego_, i. 347.] [Footnote 64: Darwin, _Journal of Researches_, p. 227.] Of the Australian aborigines we are told that some tribes and families display on nearly all occasions honesty and truthfulness, whereas others "seem almost destitute of the better qualities."[65] According to Mr. Mathew, they are not wantonly untruthful, although one can rely on them being faithful to a trust only on condition that they are exempt from strong temptation.[66] Mr. Curr admits that under some circumstances they are treacherous, and that it costs them little pain to lie; but from his own observations he has no doubt that the black feels, in the commencement of his career at least, that lying is wrong.[67] Mr. Howitt has found the South Australian Kurnai "to compare not unfavourably with our own people in their narration of occurrences, or as witnesses in courts of justice as to facts. Among them a person known to disregard truth is branded as a liar (_jet-bolan_)."[68] Among the aborigines of New South Wales people who cause strife by lying are punished, and "liars are much disliked"; Dr. Fraser was assured by a person who had had much intercourse with them for thirty years that he never knew them to tell a lie.[69] Among the tribes of Western Victoria described by Mr. Dawson liars are detested; should any man, through lying, get others into trouble, he is punished with the boomerang, whilst women and young people, for the same fault, are beaten with a stick.[70] In his description of his expeditions into Central Australia Eyre writes, "In their intercourse with each other I {79} have generally found the natives to speak the truth and act with honesty, and they will usually do the same with Europeans if on friendly terms with them."[71] With regard to West Australian tribes Mr. Chauncy states that they are certainly not remarkable for their treachery, and that he has very seldom known any of them accused of it. He adds that they are "habitually honest among themselves, if not truthful," and that, during his many years' acquaintance with them, he does not remember ever hearing a native utter a falsehood with a definite idea of gaining anything by it. "If questioned on any subject, he would form his reply rather with the view of pleasing the enquirer than of its being true; but this was attributable to his politeness."[72] According to a late Advocate-General of West Australia, "when a native is accused of any crime, he often acknowledges his share in the transaction with perfect candour."[73] Very different from these accounts is Mr. Gason's statement concerning the Dieyerie in South Australia. "A more treacherous race," he says, "I do not believe exists. They imbibe treachery in infancy, and practise it until death, and have no sense of wrong in it. . . . They seem to take a delight in lying, especially if they think it will please you. Should you ask them any question, be prepared for a falsehood, as a matter of course. They not only lie to the white man, but to each other, and do not appear to see any wrong in it."[74] The natives of Botany Bay and Port Jackson in New South Wales are by older writers described as no strangers to falsehood.[75] And speaking of a tribe in North Queensland, Mr. Lumholtz observed that "an Australian native can betray anybody," and that "there is not one among them who will not lie if it is to his advantage."[76] [Footnote 65: Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, i. 25.] [Footnote 66: Mathew, 'Australian Aborigines,' in _Jour. and Proceed. Roy. Soc. N.S. Wales_, xxiii. 387.] [Footnote 67: Curr, _Australian Race_, i. 43, 100.] [Footnote 68: Fison and Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 256.] [Footnote 69: Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, pp. 41, 90.] [Footnote 70: Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_, p. 76.] [Footnote 71: Eyre, _Expeditions of Discovery into Central Australia_, ii. 385.] [Footnote 72: Chauncy, quoted by Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ ii. 275, 281. _Cf._ Oldfield, 'Aborigines of Australia,' in _Trans. Ethn. Soc._ N.S. iii. 255.] [Footnote 73: Moore, quoted by Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ ii. 278.] [Footnote 74: Gason, 'Dieyerie Tribe of Australian Aborigines,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 257 _sq._] [Footnote 75: Collins, _English Colony in New South Wales_, i. 600. Barrington, _History of New South Wales_, p. 22.] [Footnote 76: Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 100.] According to Mr. Hale, the Polynesians are not naturally treacherous, by no means from a horror of deception, but apparently from a mere inaptitude at dissembling; and it is said that the word of a Micronesian may generally be relied upon.[77] To the Tonga Islanders a false accusation appeared more horrible than deliberate murder does to us, and they also put this {80} principle into practice.[78] We are told by Polack that among the Maoris of New Zealand lying is universally practised by all classes, and that an accomplished liar is accounted a man of consummate ability.[79] But Dieffenbach found that, if treated with honesty, they were always ready to reciprocate such treatment;[80] and, according to another authority, they believed in an evil spirit whom they said was "a liar and the father of lies."[81] The broad statement made by von Jhering, that among the South Sea Islanders lying is regarded as a harmless and innocent play of the imagination,[82] is certainly not correct. The treacherous disposition attributed to the Caroline Islanders[83] and the natives of New Britain[84] does not imply so much as that. The New Caledonians are, comparatively speaking, "not naturally dishonest."[85] The Solomon Islanders are praised as faithful and reliable workmen and servants,[86] though cheating in trade is nowadays very common among some of them.[87] Of the people of Erromanga, in the New Hebrides, the Rev. H. A. Robertson states that "truth, in heathenism, was told only when it suited best, but," he adds, "it is not that natives are always reckless about the truth so much as that they seem utterly incapable of stating anything definitely, or stating a thing just as it really occurred."[88] In the opinion of some authorities, the Fijians are very untruthful and regard adroit lying as an accomplishment.[89] Their propensity to lie, says the missionary Williams, "is so strong that they seem to have no wish to deny its existence, or very little shame when convicted of a falsehood." The universal prevalence of the habit of lying is so thoroughly taken for granted, "that it is common to hear, after the most ordinary statement, the rejoinder, 'That's a lie,' or something to the same effect, at which the accused person does not think of taking offence." But the same writer adds:--"Natives have often told me lies, manifestly without any ill-will, and when it would have been far more to their advantage to have spoken the truth. The Fijians hail as agreeable companions those who are {81} skilful in making tales, but, under some circumstances, strongly condemn the practice of falsehood. . . . On matters most lied about by civilised people, the native is the readiest to speak the truth. Thus, when convicted of some offence, he rarely attempts to deny it, but will generally confess all to any one he esteems. . . . The following incident shows that lying _per se_ is condemned and considered disreputable. A white man, notorious for falsehood, had displeased a powerful chief, and wrote asking me to intercede for him. I did so; when the chief dismissed the case briefly, saying, 'Tell--that no one hates a foreigner; but tell him that every one hates a liar!'"[90] Other writers even deny that the Fijians were habitual liars;[91] and Erskine found that those chiefs with whom he had to deal were so open to appeals to their good faith as to convince him "that they had a due appreciation of the virtue of truth."[92] [Footnote 77: Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition, Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, pp. 16, 73.] [Footnote 78: Mariner, _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 163 _sq._] [Footnote 79: Polack, _Manners and Customs of the New Zealanders_, ii. 102 _sq._ See also Colenso, _Maori Races of New Zealand_, pp. 44, 46.] [Footnote 80: Dieffenbach, _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 109.] [Footnote 81: Yate, _Account of New Zealand_, p. 145.] [Footnote 82: von Jhering, _Der Zweck im Recht_, ii. 606.] [Footnote 83: Angas, _Polynesia_, p. 386.] [Footnote 84: Powell, _Wanderings in a Wild Country_, p. 262.] [Footnote 85: Anderson, _Travel in Fiji and New Caledonia_, p. 233.] [Footnote 86: Parkinson, _Zur Ethnographie der nordwestlichen Salomo Inseln_, p. 4.] [Footnote 87: Sommerville, 'Ethnogr. Notes in New Georgia,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. 393.] [Footnote 88: Robertson, _Erromanga_, p. 384 _sq._] [Footnote 89: Wilkes, _U.S. Exploring Expedition_, iii. 76.] [Footnote 90: Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, p. 107 _sq._] [Footnote 91: Erskine, _Cruise among the Islands of the Western Pacific_, p. 264. Anderson, _Travel in Fiji and New Caledonia_, p. 130.] [Footnote 92: Erskine, _op. cit._ p. 264.] Nowhere in the savage world is truth held in less estimation than among many of the African races. The Negroes are described as cunning and liars by nature.[93] They "tell a lie more readily than they tell the truth," and falsehood "is not recognised amongst them as a fault."[94] They lie not only for the sake of gaining some advantage by it, or in order to please or amuse, but their lies are often said to be absolutely without purpose.[95] Of the natives of the Gold Coast the old traveller Bosman says, "The Negroes are all, without exception, crafty, villainous and fraudulent, and very seldom to be trusted, being sure to slip no opportunity of cheating an European, nor indeed one another."[96] Among all the Bakalai tribes "lying is thought an enviable accomplishment."[97] The Bakongo, in their answers, "will generally try and tell the questioner what they think will please him most, quite ignoring the truthfulness we consider it necessary to observe in our replies."[98] Miss Kingsley's experience of West African natives is likewise that they "will say 'Yes' to any mortal thing, if they think you want them to."[99] The Wakamba are described as great liars.[100] {82} Among the Waganda "truth is held in very low estimation, and it is never considered wrong to tell lies; indeed, a successful liar is considered a smart, clever fellow, and rather admired."[101] Untruthfulness is said to be "a national characteristic" of the tribes inhabiting the region of Lake Nyassa.[102] From his experience of the Eastern Central Africans, the Rev. D. Macdonald writes: "'Telling lies' is much practised and is seldom considered a fault. . . . The negro often thinks that he is flattered by being accused of falsehood. So, when natives wish to pay a high compliment to a European who has told them an interesting story, they look into his face and say, 'O father, you are a great liar.'"[103] To the Wanika, says Mr. New, lying is "almost as the very breath of their nostrils, and all classes, young and old, male and female, indulge in it. A great deal of their lying is without cause or object; it is lying for lying's sake. You ask a man his name, his tribe, where he lives, or any other simple question of like nature, and the answer he gives you will, as a rule, be the very opposite to the truth; yet he has nothing to evade or gain by so doing. Lying seems to be more natural to him than speaking the truth. He lies when detection is evident, and laughs at it as though he thought it a good joke. He hears himself called a _mulongo_ (liar) a score of times a day, but he notices it not, for there is no opprobrium in the term to him. To hide a fault he lies with the most barefaced audacity and blindest obstinacy. . . . When his object is gain, he will invent falsehoods wholesale. . . . He boasts that _ulongo_ (lying) is his _pesa_ (piece, ha'pence), and holds bare truth to be the most unprofitable commodity in the world. But while he lies causelessly, objectlessly, recklessly in self-defence or for self-interest, he is not a malicious liar. He does not lie with express intent to do others harm; this he would consider immoral, and he has sufficient goodness of heart to avoid indulging therein. . . . I have often been struck with the manner in which he has controlled his tongue when the character and interest of others have been at stake."[104] If a Bantu of South-Eastern Africa "undertakes the charge of any form of property, he accounts for it with as great fidelity as if he were the Keeper of the Great Seal. But, on the other hand, there are many circumstances in which falsehood is not reckoned even a disgrace, and if a man could {83} extricate himself from difficulties by lying and did not do so, he would be simply thought a fool."[105] Andersson speaks of the "lying habits" of the Herero.[106] Of the Bachapins, a Bechuana tribe, Burchell observes that among their vices a universal disregard for truth and a want of honourable adherence to their promise stand high above the rest, the consequence of this habitual practice of lying being "the absence of shame, even on being detected."[107] Among the Kafirs "deception is a practised art from early childhood; even the children will not answer a plain question."[108] It is considered a smart thing to deceive so long as a person is not found out, but it is awkward to be detected; hence a native father will enjoy seeing his children deceive people cleverly.[109] "In trading with them, you may make up your mind that all they tell you is untrue, and act accordingly. . . . Your own natives, on the other hand, if they like you, will lie for your benefit as strongly as the opposite party against you; and both sides think it all fair trade."[110] And in a Kafir lawsuit "defendant, plaintiff, and witnesses are allowed to tell as many lies as they like, in order to make the best of their case."[111] But we also hear that Kafirs do not tell lies to their chiefs, and that there are many among them who would never deceive a white man whom they are fond of or respect.[112] Among the Bushmans veracity is said to be too often, yet not always, disregarded, "and the neglect of it considered a mere venial offence."[113] "The first version of what a Bushman or any native has to say can never be relied on; whatever you ask him about, he invariably says first, 'I don't know,' and then promises to tell you all he does know. Ask him for news, and he says, 'No; we have got no news,' and shortly afterwards he will tell you news of perhaps great interest."[114] In Madagascar there was no stigma attached to deceit or fraud; they "were rather admired as proofs of superior cunning, as things to be imitated, so far at least as they would not bring the offender within the penalties of the native laws."[115] Ellis says that "the best sign of genius in children is esteemed a quickness to deceive, {84} overreach and cheat. The people delight in fabulous tales, but in none so much or universally as in those that relate instances of successful deceit or fraud. . . . Their constant aim is, in business to swindle, in professed friendship to extort, and in mere conversation to exaggerate and fabricate."[116] These statements refer to the Hovas; but among the Betsileo, inhabiting the same island, lying and cheating are equally rife, and "neither appears to have been thought a sin, so long as it remained undiscovered."[117] At the same time many of the Madagascar proverbs are designed to put down lying, and to show that truth is always best.[118] [Footnote 93: Baker, _Albert N'yanza_, i. 289. Burton, _Mission to Gelele_, ii. 199.] [Footnote 94: Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 580.] [Footnote 95: Hübbe-Schleiden, _Ethiopien, Studien über West-Afrika_, p. 186 _sq._] [Footnote 96: Bosman, _New Description of the Coast of Guinea_, p. 100.] [Footnote 97: Du Chaillu, _Explorations and Adventures in Equatorial Africa_, p. 390. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 331.] [Footnote 98: Ward, _Five Years with the Congo Cannibals_, p. 47.] [Footnote 99: Kingsley, _Travels in West Africa_, p. 525.] [Footnote 100: Krapf, _Travels in Eastern Africa_, p. 355.] [Footnote 101: Wilson and Felkin, _Uganda_, i. 224. _Cf._ Felkin, 'Notes on the Waganda Tribe,' in _Proceed. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh_, xiii. 722; Ashe, _Two Kings of Uganda_, p. 295.] [Footnote 102: Macdonald, 'East Central African Customs,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxii. 119.] [Footnote 103: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 262 _sq._] [Footnote 104: New, _Life, Wanderings, and Labours in Eastern Africa_, p. 96 _sqq._] [Footnote 105: Macdonald, _Light in Africa_, p. 211.] [Footnote 106: Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 217. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 499 (Bayeye).] [Footnote 107: Burchell, _Travels in the Interior of Southern Africa_, ii. 553 _sq._] [Footnote 108: Holden, _The Past and Future of the Kaffir Races_, p. 179.] [Footnote 109: Kidd, _The Essential Kafir_, p. 285.] [Footnote 110: Leslie, _Among the Zulus and Amatongas_, p. 199. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 202.] [Footnote 111: Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 58.] [Footnote 112: Kidd, _The Essential Kafir_, p. 286.] [Footnote 113: Burchell, _op. cit._ ii. 54.] [Footnote 114: Chapman, _Travels in the Interior of South Africa_, i. 76 _sq._] [Footnote 115: Sibree, _The Great African Island_, p. 338.] [Footnote 116: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 143 _sq._] [Footnote 117: Sibree, _op. cit._ p. 125. Shaw, 'Betsileo,' in _Antananarivo Annual_, iii. 79.] [Footnote 118: Clemes, 'Malagasy Proverbs,' _ibid._ iv. 29.] But in Africa, also, there are many peoples who have been described as regardful of truth and hostile to falsehood. Early travellers speak very highly of the sincerity of the Hottentots. Father Tachart says that they have more honesty than is almost anywhere found among Christians;[119] and Kolben agrees with him, asserting that the word of a Hottentot is sacred, and that there is hardly anything upon earth which he looks upon as a fouler crime than breach of engagement.[120] According to Barrow, the Hottentots are perfectly honest and faithful, and, "if accused of crimes of which they have been guilty, they generally divulge the truth."[121] Of the Manansas Dr. Holub states that, so far as his experience goes, they are beyond the average for honesty and fidelity, and are consequently laughed at by the more powerful tribes as "the simpletons of the North."[122] The Bahima in the Uganda Protectorate are usually very honest and truthful, and most of the Nandi think it very wicked to tell a lie.[123] Among the For tribe of Central Africa "lying is held to be a great crime; even the youngest children are severely beaten for it, and any one over fifteen or sixteen who is an habitual liar suffers the loss of one lip as a penalty."[124] Speaking of the natives of Sierra Leone, Winterbottom remarks that, in proportion as we advance into the interior of the country, the people are found to be more devoid of art and more free from suspicion.[125] "Those who have dealings with the Fán universally {85} prefer them in point of honesty and manliness to the Mpongwe and Coast races," and it is an insult to call one of them a liar or coward.[126] Monrad, who wrote in the beginning of the nineteenth century, asserts that among the Negroes of Accra lying is by no means common and that they are as a rule honest towards their own people.[127] According to an early authority, the people of Great Benin were very straightforward and did not cheat each other.[128] Mr. and Mrs. Hinde write that the Masai are as a race truthful, and that a grown-up person among them will not lie; "he may refuse to answer a question, but, once given, his word can be depended on."[129] Dr. Baumann, on the other hand, says that they often lie, but that they regard lying as a great fault.[130] The Guanches of the Canary Islands are stated to have been "slaves to their word."[131] Of the Berbers of Morocco Leo Africanus writes:--"Most honest people they are, and destitute of all fraud and guile. . . . They keep their couenant most faithfully; insomuch that they had rather die than breake promise."[132] M. Dyveyrier found the same virtue among the Touareg, another Berber people:--"La fidélité aux promesses, aux traités, est poussée si loin par les Touareg, qu il est difficile d'obtenir d'eux des engagements. . . . Il est de maxime chez les Touâreg, en matière de contrat, de ne s'engager que pour la moitié de ce qu'on peut tenir, afin de ne pas s'exposer au reproche d'infidélité. . . . Le mensonge, le vol domestique et l'abus de confiance sont inconnus des Touâreg."[133] As regards the truthfulness of the African Arabs opinions vary. Parkyns asks, "Who is more trustworthy than the desert Arab?"[134] According to Rohlfs and Chavanne, on the other hand, the Arabs of the Sahara are much addicted to lying;[135] and of the Arabs of Egypt Mr. St. John observes:--"There is no general appreciation of a man's word. . . . 'Liar' is a playful appellative scarcely reproachful; and 'I have told a lie' a confession that may be made without a blush."[136] Herodotus' statement that "the Arabs observe pledges as religiously as any people,"[137] is true of the Bedouins of Arabia in the {86} present day. "No vice or crime is more deservedly stigmatised as infamous among Bedouins than treachery. An individual in the great Arabian Desert will be forgiven if he should kill a stranger on the road, but eternal disgrace would be attached to his name, if it were known that he had robbed his companion, or his protected guest, even of a handkerchief."[138] Wallin affirms that you may put perfect trust in the promise of a Bedouin, as soon as you have eaten salt and bread with him.[139] But whilst faithfulness to a tacit or express promise is thus regarded by him as a sacred duty, lying and cheating are as prevalent in the desert as in the market-towns of Syria.[140] Speaking of the Bedouins of the Euphrates, Mr. Blunt observes:--"Truth, in ordinary matters, is not regarded as a virtue by the Bedouins, nor is lying held shameful. Every man, they say, has a right to conceal his own thought. In matters of importance, the simple affirmation is confirmed by an oath, and then the fact stated may be relied on. There is only one exception to the general rule of lying among them. The Bedouin, if questioned on the breed of his mare, will not give a false answer. He may refuse to say, or he may answer that he does not know; but he will not name another breed than that to which she really belongs. . . . The rule, however, does not hold good on any other point of horse dealing. The age, the qualities, and the ownership of the horse may be all falsely stated."[141] [Footnote 119: Tachart, quoted by Kolben, _Present State of the Cape of Good Hope_, i. 167.] [Footnote 120: _Ibid._ i. 59.] [Footnote 121: Barrow, _Travels into the Interior of Southern Africa_, i. 151 _sq._] [Footnote 122: Holub, _Seven Years in South Africa_, ii. 209.] [Footnote 123: Johnston, _Uganda Protectorate_, ii. 630, 879.] [Footnote 124: Felkin, in _Proceed. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh_, xiii. 232.] [Footnote 125: Winterbottom, _Account of the Native Africans in the Neighbourhood of Sierra Leone_, i. 206 _sq._] [Footnote 126: Burton, _Two Trips to Gorilla Land_, i. 225 _sq._] [Footnote 127: Monrad, _Guinea-Kysten og dens Indbyggere_, p. 6.] [Footnote 128: Quoted by Ling Roth, _Great Benin_, p. 45.] [Footnote 129: Hinde, _The Last of the Masai_, p. 34.] [Footnote 130: Baumann, _Durch Massailand_, p. 165.] [Footnote 131: Bory de St. Vincent, _Essais sur les Isles Fortunées_, p. 70.] [Footnote 132: Leo Africanus, _History and Description of Africa_, i. 183.] [Footnote 133: Dyveyrier, _Exploration du Sahara_, p. 384 _sq._] [Footnote 134: Parkyns, _Life in Abyssinia_, ii. 182.] [Footnote 135: Chavanne, _Die Sahara_, p. 392.] [Footnote 136: St. John, _Adventures in the Lybian Desert_, p. 31.] [Footnote 137: Herodotus, iii. 8.] [Footnote 138: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 190 _sq._] [Footnote 139: Wallin, _Reseanteckningar från Orienten_, iii. 116.] [Footnote 140: Burckhardt, _op. cit._ p. 104 _sq._ _Cf._ Wallin, _op. cit._ iv. 89 _sq._; Doughty, _Arabia Deserta_, i. 241.] [Footnote 141: Blunt, _Bedouin Tribes of the Euphrates_, ii. 203 _sq._ _Cf._ Niebuhr, _Travels through Arabia_, ii. 302:--"There is no instance of false testimony given in respect to the descent of a horse. Every Arabian is persuaded that himself and his whole family would be ruined, if he should prevaricate in giving his oath in an affair of such consequence."] Various statements of travellers thus directly contradict the common opinion that want of truthfulness is mostly a characteristic of uncivilised races.[142] And we have much reason to assume that a foreigner visiting a savage tribe is apt rather to underrate than to overestimate its veracity. Mr. Savage Landor gives us a curious insight into an explorer's method of testing it. "If you were to say to an Ainu, 'You are old, are you not?' he would answer {87}'Yes'; but if you asked the same man, 'You are not old, are you?' he would equally answer 'Yes.'" And then comes the conclusion:--"Knowingly speaking the truth is not one of their characteristics; indeed, they do not know the difference between falsehood and truth."[143] It is hardly surprising to hear from other authorities that the Ainu are remarkably honest, and regard veracity as one of the most imperative duties.[144] Speaking of the Uaupés and other Brazilian tribes, Mr. Wallace observes:--"In my communications and inquiries among the Indians on various matters, I have always found the greatest caution necessary, to prevent one's arriving at wrong conclusions. They are always apt to affirm that which they see you wish to believe, and, when they do not at all comprehend your question, will unhesitatingly answer, 'Yes.'"[145] Savages who are inclined to give inaccurate answers to questions made by strangers, may nevertheless be truthful towards each other. As the regard for life and property, so the regard for truth varies according as the person concerned is a foreigner or a tribesman. "Perfidy and faithlessness," says Crawfurd, "are vices of the Indian islanders, and those vices of which they have been most frequently accused by strangers. This sentence against them must, however, be understood with some allowances. In their domestic and social intercourse, they are far from being a deceitful people, but in reality possess more integrity than it is reasonable to look for with so much misgovernment and barbarity. It is in their intercourse with strangers and with enemies that, like other barbarians, the treachery of their character is displayed."[146] The natives of the interior of Sumatra are "dishonest in their dealings with strangers, which they esteem no moral defect."[147] Dalager states that the same Greenlanders who, among themselves, in the sale of an object {88} which, the buyer had not seen, would depreciate it rather than overpraise it--even though the seller was anxious to get rid of it--told frightful lies in their transactions with Danish traders.[148] The Touareg, whilst scrupulously faithful to a promise given to one of their own people, do not regard as binding a promise given to a Christian;[149] and their Arab neighbours say that their word, "like water fallen on the sand, is never to be found again."[150] The Masai, according to Herr Merker, hold any kind of deceit to be allowable in their relations with persons of another race.[151] The Hovas of Madagascar even considered it a duty for anyone speaking with foreigners on political matters to state the exact opposite to the truth, and punished him who did otherwise.[152] [Footnote 142: Burton, _City of the Saints_, p. 130. Vierkandt, _Naturvölker und Kulturvölker_, p. 273. von Jhering, _Der Zweck im Recht_, ii. 606.] [Footnote 143: Landor, _Alone with the Hairy Ainu_, p. 283.] [Footnote 144: Holland, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ iii. 237. von Siebold, _Aino auf der Insel Yesso_, p. 25.] [Footnote 145: Wallace, _Travels on the Amazon_, p. 494 _sq._] [Footnote 146: Crawfurd, _op. cit._ i. 71 _sq._ _Cf._ Christian, _Caroline Islands_, p. 71 _sq._] [Footnote 147: Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 208.] [Footnote 148: Dalager, _op. cit._ p. 60 _sq._] [Footnote 149: von Bary, quoted by Chavanne, _Die Sahara_, p. 186.] [Footnote 150: Dubois, _Timbuctoo_, p. 231.] [Footnote 151: Merker, _Die Masai_, p. 115.] [Footnote 152: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 144. Professor Stanley Hall observes ('Children's Lies,' in _American Journal of Psychology_, iii. 62) that "truth for our friends and lies for our enemies is a practical, though not distinctly conscious rule widely current with children."] In point of truthfulness savages are in many cases superior to nations more advanced in culture. "A Chinese," says Mr. Wells Williams, "requires but little motive to falsify, and he is constantly sharpening his wits to cozen his customer--wheedle him by promises and cheat him in goods or work."[153] His ordinary speech is said to be so full of insincerity that it is very difficult to learn the truth in almost any case.[154] He feels no shame at being detected in a lie, nor does he fear any punishment from his gods for it;[155] if you call him a liar, "you arouse in him no sense of outrage, no sentiment of degradation."[156] Yet the moral teachings of the Chinese inculcate truthfulness as a stringent duty. One of their injunctions is, "Let children always be taught to speak the simple truth."[157] Many sayings may be quoted from Confucius in which sincerity is celebrated as highly and demanded as urgently as it ever was by any {89} Christian moralist. Faithfulness and sincerity, he said, should be held as first principles. Sincerity is the way of Heaven, the end and beginning of things, without which there would be nothing. It is as necessary to truly virtuous conduct as a boat is to a man wishing to cross a river, or as oars are to a boat. The superior man ought to feel shame when his conduct is not in accord with his words.[158] But there are instances in which sincerity has to yield to family duties: a father should conceal the misconduct of his son, and a son that of his father.[159] Moreover, the great moralists themselves did not always act up to their lofty principles. Confucius and Mencius sometimes did not hesitate to tell a lie for the sake of convenience.[160] The former could excuse himself from seeing an unwelcome visitor on the ground that he was sick, when there was nothing the matter with him;[161] and he deliberately broke an oath which he had sworn, because it had been forced from him.[162] In Japan, Burma, and Siam, truth is more respected than in China. "In love of truth," says Professor Rein, "the Japanese, so far as my experience goes, are not inferior to us Europeans." [163] The Burmese, though partial to much exaggeration, are generally truthful.[164] And "the mendacity so characteristic of Orientals is not a national defect among the Siamese. Lying, no doubt, is often resorted to as a protection against injustice and oppression, but the chances are greatly in favour of truth when evidence is sought."[165] [Footnote 153: Wells Williams, _The Middle Kingdom_, i. 834.] [Footnote 154: Smith, _Chinese Characteristics_, p. 271.] [Footnote 155: Cooke, _China_, p. 414. Edkins, _Religion in China_, p. 122. Bowring, _Siam_, i. 106. Wells Williams, _op. cit._ i. 834.] [Footnote 156: Smith, _Chinese Characteristics_, p. 271.] [Footnote 157: Wells Williams, _op. cit._ i. 522.] [Footnote 158: _Lun Yü_, i. 8. 2; vii. 24; ix. 24; xii. 10. 1; xv. 5. 2. _Chung Yung_, xx. 18. Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, pp. 103, 114, 146. Legge, _Chinese Classics_, i. 100.] [Footnote 159: _Lun Yü_, xiii. 18. 2.] [Footnote 160: Legge, _Chinese Classics_, i. 100. Smith, _Chinese Characteristics_, p. 267.] [Footnote 161: _Lun Yü_, vi. 13.] [Footnote 162: _Lun Yü_, xvii. 20.] [Footnote 163: Rein, _Japan_, p. 393.] [Footnote 164: MacMahon, _Far Cathay and Farther India_, p. 62. Forbes, _British Burma_, p. 45. Fytche, _Burma Past and Present_, ii. 67.] [Footnote 165: Bowring, _Siam_, i. 105.] Lying has been called the national vice of the Hindus.[166] "It is not too much to assert that the mass of Bengalis have no notion of truth and falsehood."[167] A gentleman {90} who has been brought into the closest intimacy with natives of all classes, declares "that when a question is asked, the full bearing of which on themselves or those connected with them they cannot see, you may rely upon it that the first answer you receive is false; but that, when they see that the truth cannot injure themselves or any one they care for, they will speak the truth."[168] The testimony of a Hindu is not generally regarded as evidence.[169] Forgery is frequently resorted to, cheating is rife. "In almost all business transactions of the smallest kind a written agreement must be made on both sides, and this must be stamped and registered, because it is believed that a man's word is not binding."[170] Nor is a lie held disreputable, especially if not found out.[171] But in India, as elsewhere, the question whether truth or falsehood is to be spoken depends on the relationship between the speaker and the party addressed. In their relations with each other, says Sir W. H. Sleeman, members of a village community spoke as much truth as those of any other community in the world, but in their relations with the government they told as many lies; "if a man had told a lie to _cheat_ his neighbour, he would have become an object of hatred and contempt--if he had told a lie to _save_ his neighbour's fields from an increase of rent or tax, he would have become an object of esteem and respect."[172] Of the Sûdra inhabitants of Central India Sir John Malcolm likewise observes that "they may be said, in their intercourse with strangers and with officers of government, to evade the truth, and often to assert positive falsehoods"; whereas, "in their intercourse with each other, falsehood is not common, and many (particularly some of the cultivators) are distinguished by their adherence to truth."[173] The ancient Hindus were praised for their veracity and good faith; {91} in his History of India, written in the second century of the Christian era, Arrian states that no Indian was ever known to tell an untruth.[174] In the sacred books of India truthfulness is highly celebrated. "If veracity and a thousand horse-sacrifices are weighed against each other, it is found that truth ranks even higher than a thousand horse-sacrifices."[175] "Verily the gods are the truth, and man is the untruth."[176] "There is one law which the gods do keep, namely, the truth. It is through this that their conquest, their glory is unassailable: and so, forsooth, is his conquest, his glory unassailable whosoever, knowing this, speaks the truth."[177] Attendance on, or the worship of, the sacred fire means speaking the truth:--"Whosoever speaks the truth, acts as if he sprinkled that lighted fire with ghee; for even so does he enkindle it: and ever the more increases his own vital energy, and day by day does he become better. And whosoever speaks the untruth, acts as if he sprinkled that lighted fire with water; for even so does he enfeeble it: and ever the less becomes his own vital energy, and day by day does he become more wicked. Let him, therefore, speak nothing but the truth."[178] Fearful denunciations are particularly pronounced against those who deliver false testimony in a court of justice.[179] By giving false evidence concerning small cattle, a witness commits the sin of killing ten men; by false evidence concerning cows, horses, and men, he commits the sin of killing a hundred, a thousand, and ten thousand men respectively; but by false evidence concerning land, he commits the sin of killing the whole human race.[180] The sin of falsehood thus admits of different degrees according to the magnitude of the injury inflicted by it. Indeed, "in some cases a man who, though knowing the facts to be different, gives such false evidence from a pious motive, does not lose heaven; such evidence they call the speech of the gods."[181] {92} Moreover, "whenever the death of a Sûdra, of a Vaisya, of a Kshatriya, or of a Brâhmana would be caused by a declaration of the truth, a falsehood may be spoken; for such falsehood is preferable to the truth."[182] According to Buddhist conceptions of lying, "the magnitude of the crime increases in proportion to the value of the article, or the importance of the matter, about which the lie is told."[183] And it is a lesser wrong to lie in self-defence than to lie with a view to procuring an advantage by injuring one's neighbour. Thus, to deny the possession of any article, in order to retain it, is not a lie of a heinous description, whereas to bear false witness in order that the proper owner may be deprived of that which he possesses, is a lie to which a greater degree of culpability is attached.[184] The Buddhist precept of truthfulness is more restricted than that laid down by Brahmanism:--"It is said by the Brahmans that it is not a crime to tell a lie on behalf of the guru, or on account of cattle, or to save the person's own life, or to gain the victory in any contest; but this is contrary to the precept."[185] One of the conditions that make a Buddha is, never, under the influence of desire and other passions, to utter a conscious lie, for the sake of wealth or any other advantage.[186] From the time that Gautama became a Bodhisattva, or claimant for the Buddhaship, through all his births until the attainment of the Buddhaship, he never told a lie; and "it were easier for the sakwala [or system of worlds] to be blown away than for a supreme Buddha to utter an untruth."[187] His followers are not equally scrupulous. The Buddhists of Ceylon, we are told, lie without compunction, and are not ashamed to be detected in a lie.[188] And religious Mongols "do not hesitate to tell lies even when saying their prayers."[189] [Footnote 166: Caldwell, _Tinnevelly Shanars_, p. 38. _Cf._ Kearns, _Tribes of South India_, pp. 64 (Reddies and Hindus generally), 68 (Reddies and Naickers); Burton, _Sindh_, pp. 197, 284; _Idem_, _Sind Revisited_, i. 314.] [Footnote 167: Trevelyan, quoted by Wilkins, _Modern Hinduism_, p. 401.] [Footnote 168: Wilkins, _Modern Hinduism_, p. 399 _sq._] [Footnote 169: Percival, _Land of the Veda_, p. 288.] [Footnote 170: Wilkins, _op. cit._ p. 407 _sq._] [Footnote 171: _Ibid._ p. 400. Caldwell, _op. cit._ p. 40.] [Footnote 172: Sleeman, _op. cit._ ii. 123. _Cf._ _ibid._ ii. 118, 129 _sq._; Crooke, _Tribes and Castes of the North-Western Provinces and Oudh_, ii. 478 (Hâbûra).] [Footnote 173: Malcolm, _Memoir of Central India_, ii. 171. _Cf._ Hislop, _op. cit._ p. 1.] [Footnote 174: Arrian, _Historia Indica_, xii. 5.] [Footnote 175: _Institutes of Vishnu_, viii. 36.] [Footnote 176: _Satapatha-Brâhmana_, i. 1. 1. 4; iii. 3. 2. 2.] [Footnote 177: _Ibid._ iii. 4. 2. 8. _Cf._ _ibid._ i. 1. 1. 5.] [Footnote 178: _Ibid._ ii. 2. 2. 19.] [Footnote 179: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 82.] [Footnote 180: _Gautama_, xiii. 14 _sqq._] [Footnote 181: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 103.] [Footnote 182: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 104.] [Footnote 183: Hardy, _Manual of Budhism_, p. 486.] [Footnote 184: _Ibid._ p. 485.] [Footnote 185: _Ibid._ p. 486.] [Footnote 186: _Jâtaka Tales_, p. 23.] [Footnote 187: Hardy, _op. cit._ p. 486.] [Footnote 188: Knox, quoted by Schmidt, _Ceylon_, p. 239.] [Footnote 189: Gilmour, _Among the Mongols_, p. 259.] {93} According to Zoroastrianism, truthfulness is a most sacred duty. Lying is a creation of the evil spirits, and the most efficacious weapon against it is the holy religion revealed to man by Zarathustra.[190] In one of the Pahlavi texts it is said that when the Spirit of Wisdom was asked, "Through how many ways and motives and good works do people arrive most at heaven?" he answered thus: "The first good work is liberality, the second truth."[191] Contracts are inviolable, both those which are pledged with hand or pawn, and those by a mere word.[192] It is a duty to keep faith even with an unbeliever:--"Break not the contract, O Spitama, neither the one that thou hadst entered into with one of the unfaithful, nor the one that thou hadst entered into with one of the faithful who is one of thy own faith."[193] Greek historians and cuneiform inscriptions also bear witness to the great detestation in which falsehood was held by the ancient Persians. Herodotus writes:--"Their sons are carefully instructed from their fifth to their twentieth year in three things alone--to ride, to draw the bow, and to speak the truth. . . . The most disgraceful thing in the world, they think, is to tell a lie; the next worse, to owe a debt: because, among other reasons, the debtor is obliged to tell lies."[194] In the inscriptions of Darius lying is taken as representative of all evil. He is favoured by Ormuzd "because he was not a heretic, nor a liar, nor a tyrant." His great fear is lest it may be thought that any part of the record which he has set up has been falsely related; and he even abstains from narrating certain events of his reign "lest to him who may hereafter peruse the tablet, the many deeds that have been done by him may seem to be falsely recorded."[195] Professor Spiegel tries to prove that {94} falsehood, not truthfulness, was a national characteristic of the ancient Eranians, to which their noblest men offered fruitless resistance;[196] but the facts he quotes in support of his opinion refer to their dealings with foreign nations, and have consequently little bearing on the subject. The modern Persians are notorious liars, who do not even claim to be believed, and smile when detected in a lie.[197] The nomad alone is faithful to his word; the expression, "I am a nomad," means, "You may trust me."[198] [Footnote 190: _Bundahis_, i. 24; xxviii. 14, 16. _Dînâ-î Maînôg-î Khirad_, xix. 4, 6; xxx. 5; xxxvi. 29. Darmesteter, in _Sacred Books of the East_, iv. p. lxii. Spiegel, _Erânische Alterthumskunde_, iii. 684 _sq._ Geiger, _Civilization of the Eastern Ir[=a]nians_, i. 164 _sq._ Meyer, _Geschichte des Alterthums_, i. 534, 536.] [Footnote 191: _Dînâ-î Maînôg-î Khirad_, xxxvii. 2 _sqq._] [Footnote 192: _Vendîdâd_, iv. 5 _sqq._] [Footnote 193: _Yasts_, x. 2.] [Footnote 194: Herodotus, i. 136, 138. _Cf._ Stobæus, _Florilegium_, 44, vol. ii. 227; Xenophon, _Cyri Institutio_, i. 6. 33.] [Footnote 195: Rawlinson, in his translation of Herodotus, i. 262 _sq._ n. 3.] [Footnote 196: Spiegel, _op. cit._ iii. 686.] [Footnote 197: Polak, _Persien_, i. 10. Wallin, _Reseanteckningar från Orienten_, iv. 192, 247. Wilson, _Persian Life and Customs_, p. 229 _sqq._] [Footnote 198: Polak, _op. cit._ ii. 95.] Falsehood is a prevailing vice in other Muhammedan countries also. "Constant veracity," says Mr. Lane, "is a virtue extremely rare in modern Egypt"; and a deceitful disposition in commercial transactions is one of the most notorious faults of the Egyptian.[199] Mr. Lane partly ascribes this habit to the influence of Islam, which allows, and even commands, falsehood in certain cases. The common Moslem doctrine is, that a lie is permissible when told in order to save one's own life, or to reconcile persons at variance with each other, or to please or persuade one's wife, or to obtain any advantage in a war with the enemies of the faith.[200] But in other cases lying was highly reprobated by the Prophet; and that the people have not forgotten its sinfulness appears from the phrase, "No, I beg forgiveness of God, it was so and so," which they seldom omit when retracting an unintentional mis-statement.[201] I think it is erroneous to regard the want of truthfulness among Muhammedan nations as a result of their religion. The Eastern Christians and Buddhists are no less addicted to falsehood than the Muhammedans.[202] [Footnote 199: Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, i. 382 _sq._ _Cf._ Burckhardt, _Arabic Proverbs_, p. 100.] [Footnote 200: Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, i. 383. Muir, _Life of Mahomet_, i. p. lxxiii. _sq._ n. [dagger].] [Footnote 201: Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, i. 383 _sq._] [Footnote 202: Vámbéry, _Der Islam im neunzehnten Jahrhundert_, p. 232.] The Homeric poems make us acquainted with gods and men who have recourse to fraud and lying whenever it suits their purpose.[203] The great Zeus makes no difficulty {95} in sending a lying dream to Agamemnon. Pallas Athene is guilty of gross deceit and treachery to Hector; she expressly recommends dissimulation, and loves Odysseus on account of his deceitful character.[204] No man deals more in feigned stories than this master of cunning, who makes a boast of his falsehood.[205] In the period which lies between the Homeric age and the Persian wars veracity made perhaps some progress among the Greeks,[206] but it never became one of their national virtues.[207] Yet in the Greek literature deceit is frequently condemned as a vice, and truthfulness praised as a virtue.[208] Achilles expresses his horror of lying.[209] "Not to tell a lie," was one of the maxims of Solon.[210] Pindar strongly censures a character like that of Odysseus,[211] and ends up his eulogy on Psaumis by the assurance that he never would contaminate his speech with a lie.[212] According to Pythagoras, men become like gods when they speak the truth.[213] According to Plato, the habit of lying makes the soul ugly[214]; "truth is the beginning of every good thing, both to gods and men."[215] Yet a distinction should be made between different kinds of untruth. Though the many are too fond of saying that at proper times and places falsehood may often be right,[216] it must be admitted that a lie is in certain cases useful and not hateful, as in dealing with enemies, or when those whom we call our friends in a fit of madness or illusion are going to do some harm.[217] Moreover, the rulers of the State are allowed to lie for the public good, just as physicians make use of medicines; and they will find a considerable dose of falsehood and deceit necessary for this purpose.[218] On the other hand, if the ruler catches anybody besides himself lying in the {96} State, lie will punish him for introducing a practice "which is equally subversive and destructive of ships or State."[219] Next to him who takes a false oath, he who tells a falsehood in the presence of his superiors--elders, parents, or rulers--is most hateful to the gods.[220] [Footnote 203: _Cf._ Kames, _Sketches of the History of Man_, iv. 150 _sq._; Mahaffy, _Social Life in Greece_, p. 26 _sqq._] [Footnote 204: _Odyssey_, xiii. 331 _sq._] [Footnote 205: _Ibid._ ix. 19 _sq._] [Footnote 206: Schmidt, _Die Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 413.] [Footnote 207: _Cf._ Thucydides, iii. 83.] [Footnote 208: See Schmidt, _op. cit._ ii. 403 _sqq._] [Footnote 209: _Iliad_, ix. 312 _sq._] [Footnote 210: Diogenes Laertius, _Vitæ philosophorum_, i. 2 (60).] [Footnote 211: Pindar, _Nemea_, viii. 26.] [Footnote 212: _Idem_, _Olympia_, iv. 17.] [Footnote 213: Stobæus, _op. cit._ xi. 25, vol. i. 312.] [Footnote 214: Plato, _Gorgias_, p. 524 _sq._] [Footnote 215: _Idem_, _Leges_, v. 730.] [Footnote 216: _Ibid._ xi. 916.] [Footnote 217: Plato, _Respublica_, ii. 382.] [Footnote 218: _Ibid._ iii. 389; v. 459.] [Footnote 219: Plato, _Respublica_, iii. 389.] [Footnote 220: _Idem_, _Leges_, xi. 917. _Idem_, _Respublica_, iii. 389.] Not without reason did the Romans of the republican age contrast their own _fides_ with the mendacity of the Greeks and the perfidy of the Ph[oe]nicians. "The goddess of faith (of human and social faith)," says Gibbon, "was worshipped, not only in her temples, but in the lives of the Romans; and if that nation was deficient in the more amiable qualities of benevolence and generosity, they astonished the Greeks by their sincere and simple performance of the most burdensome engagements."[221] Their annals are adorned with signal examples of uprightness, which, though to a great extent fictitious, yet bear testimony to the estimation in which that quality was held.[222] The Greeks had no Regulus who "chose to deliver himself up to a cruel death rather than to falsify his word to the enemy."[223] The basest forms of falsehood were severely punished by law. According to the Twelve Tables, any one who had slandered or libelled another by imputing to him a wrongful or immoral act, was to be scourged to death,[224] and capital punishment was also inflicted on false witnesses[225] and corrupt judges.[226] However, already before the end of the Republic dishonesty, perjuries, and forgeries became common in Rome.[227] [Footnote 221: Gibbon, _History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_, v. 311.] [Footnote 222: _Cf._ Inge, _Society in Rome under the Cæsars_, p. 33 _sq._] [Footnote 223: Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 13.] [Footnote 224: _Lex Duodecim Tabularum_, viii. 1.] [Footnote 225: _Ibid._ viii. 23. Aulus Gellius, _Noctes Atticæ_, xx. i. 53.] [Footnote 226: _Lex Duodecim Tabularum_, ix. 3. Aulus Gellius, _op. cit._ xx. i. 7.] [Footnote 227: Inge, _op. cit._ p. 35.] The ancient Scandinavians considered it disgraceful for a man to tell a lie, to break a promise, or to commit a treacherous act.[228] To kill or rob openly was a pardonable offence, if an offence at all; but he who did it secretly was a _nithinger_, a "hateful man," unless indeed he afterwards {97} openly declared his deed.[229] In the Irish Senchus Mór it is said that not only false witness, but lying in general, deprives the guilty person of "half his honour-price up to the third time";[230] and, according to the commentary to the Book of Aicill, the double of his own full honour-price is due from each person who commits the crime of secret murder.[231] [Footnote 228: Maurer, _Bekehrung des Norwegischen Stammes_, ii. 154, 183 _sq._ Rosenberg, _Nordboernes Aandsliv_, i. 487.] [Footnote 229: Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 569. Nordström, _Bidrag till den svenska samhälls-författningens historia_, ii. 320 _sqq._ Keyser, _Efterladte Skrifter_, ii. pt. i. 361. Rosenberg, _Nordboernes Aandsliv_, i. 487. von Amira, 'Recht,' in Paul's _Grundriss der germanischen Philologie_, ii. pt. ii. 173.] [Footnote 230: _Ancient Laws of Ireland_, i. 57.] [Footnote 231: _Ibid._ iii. 99.] In the Old Testament there are recorded, from the patriarchal age, some cases of lying, which, far from being condemned, in no way prevented the liar being a special object of divine favour. It must be admitted, however, that undue importance has been attached to some of these acts of falsehood,[232] which were committed among foreigners with a view to escaping an impending danger.[233] For instance, when Isaac, dwelling in Gerar, said of his wife that she was his sister, for fear lest the men of the place should kill him,[234] he did a thing which few conscientious men under similar circumstances would hesitate to do. As for Jacob's long course of double-dealing with his father-in-law, who was equally greedy and unscrupulous, it should be remembered that they were natives of different lands.[235] Again, when Jacob, at the instigation of his mother, grossly deceived his own blind father, the intriguers, as has been pointed out,[236] manifestly felt that the blessing extorted from Isaac ought to descend upon Jacob rather than upon Esau, and inasmuch as the word of the father was held to carry with it divine validity and potency, the securing of it by fair means or foul was deemed an urgent necessity. It is obvious that the ancient Hebrews did not condemn deceit as wrong in the abstract, and that they were very unscrupulous in the use of means. Whenever {98} David was threatened by any danger, he immediately employed a falsehood which served his turn; though not incapable of generosity, he deceived enemies and friends indifferently, and there is probably no record of treachery and lying consistently pursued which surpasses in baseness his affair with his faithful servant Uriah the Hittite.[237] It is true that his conduct towards Uriah was condemned; "the thing that David had done displeased the Lord."[238] But it is significant that Yahveh himself occasionally had recourse to deceit for the purpose of carrying out his plans. In order to ruin Ahab he commissioned a lying spirit to deceive his prophets;[239] and once he threatened to use deception as a means of taking revenge upon idolaters.[240] But to bear false witness against a neighbour was strictly prohibited;[241] the false witness should suffer the punishment which he was minded to bring upon the person whom he calumniated.[242] In Ecclesiasticus lying is severely censured:--"A lie is a foul blot in a man, yet it is continually in the mouth of the untaught. A thief is better than a man that is accustomed to lie: but they both shall have destruction to heritage. The disposition of a liar is dishonourable, and his shame is ever with him."[243] "Lying lips are abomination to the Lord: but they that deal truly are his delight."[244] According to the Talmud, "four shall not enter Paradise: the scoffer, the liar, the hypocrite, and the slanderer."[245] Only for the sake of peace, and especially domestic peace, may a man tell a lie without sinning;[246] but he who changes his word commits as heavy a sin as he who worships idols.[247] The duty of truthfulness was particularly emphasised by the Essenes.[248] He who entered their sect had to pledge himself always to love {99} truth and strive to reclaim all liars.[249] "They are eminent for fidelity," says Josephus. "Whatsoever they say also is firmer than an oath; but swearing is avoided by them, and they esteem it worse than perjury; for they say that he who cannot be believed without [swearing by] God is already condemned."[250] [Footnote 232: _E.g._, by McCurdy, 'Moral Evolution of the Old Testament,' in _American Journal of Theology_, i. 665 _sq._; von Jhering, _Zweck im Recht_, ii. 606 _sq._; Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, i. 402.] [Footnote 233: _Genesis_, xii. 12 _sq._; xx. 2.] [Footnote 234: _Ibid._ xxvi. 7.] [Footnote 235: _Ibid._ ch. xxix. _sqq._] [Footnote 236: McCurdy, _loc. cit._ p. 666.] [Footnote 237: _Cf._ Kuenen, _Religion of Israel_, i. 327; McCurdy, _loc. cit._ p. 681.] [Footnote 238: _2 Samuel_, xi. 27; xii. 1 _sqq._] [Footnote 239: _1 Kings_, xxii. 20 _sqq._] [Footnote 240: _Ezekiel_, xiv. 7 _sqq._ _Cf._ Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, i. 402.] [Footnote 241: _Deuteronomy_, v. 20.] [Footnote 242: _Ibid._ xix. 1 6 _sqq._] [Footnote 243: _Ecclesiasticus_, xx. 24 _sqq._] [Footnote 244: _Proverbs_, xii. 22.] [Footnote 245: Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 57.] [Footnote 246: Hershon, _Treasures of the Talmud_, p. 69 _sq._] [Footnote 247: _Sanhedrin_, fol. 92 A, quoted by Montefiore, _Hibbert Lectures on the Religion of the Ancient Hebrews_, p. 558.] [Footnote 248: Philo Judæus, _Quod liber sit quisque virtuti studet_, p. 877 (_Opera_, ii. 458).] [Footnote 249: Josephus, _De bello Judaico_, ii. 8. 7.] [Footnote 250: _Ibid._ ii. 8. 6.]\ "Speak every man truth with his neighbour,"[251] was from early times regarded as one of the most imperative of Christian maxims.[252] According to St. Augustine, a lie is not permissible even when told with a view to saving the life of a neighbour; "since by lying eternal life is lost, never for any man's temporal life must a lie be told."[253] Yet all lies are not equally sinful; the degree of sinfulness depends on the mind of the liar and on the nature of the subject on which the lie is told.[254] This became the authorised doctrine of the Church.[255] Thomas Aquinas says that, although lying is always sinful, it is not a mortal sin if the end intended be not contrary to charity, "as appears in a jocose lie, that is intended to create some slight amusement, and in an officious lie, in which is intended even the advantage of our neighbour."[256] Yet from early times we meet within the Christian Church a much less rigorous doctrine, which soon came to exercise a more powerful influence on the practice and feelings of men than did St. Augustine's uncompromising love of truth. The Greek Fathers maintained that an untruth is not a lie when there is a "just cause" {100} for it; and as a just cause they regarded not only self-defence, but also zeal for God's honour.[257] This zeal, together with an indiscriminate devotion to the Church, led to those "pious frauds," those innumerable falsifications of documents, inventions of legends, and forgeries of every description, which made the Catholic Church a veritable seat of lying, and most seriously impaired the sense of truth in the minds of Christians.[258] By a fiction, Papacy, as a divine institution, was traced back to the age of the Apostles, and in virtue of another fiction Constantine was alleged to have abdicated his imperial authority in Italy in favour of the successor of St. Peter.[259] The Bishop of Rome assumed the privilege of disengaging men from their oaths and promises. An oath which was contrary to the good of the Church was declared not to be binding.[260] The theory was laid down that, as faith was not to be kept with a tyrant, pirate, or robber, who kills the body, it was still less to be kept with an heretic, who kills the soul.[261] Private protestations were thought sufficient to relieve men in conscience from being bound by a solemn treaty or from the duty of speaking the truth; and an equivocation, or play upon words in which one sense is taken by the speaker and another sense intended by him for the hearer, was in some cases held permissible.[262] According to Alfonso de' Liguori--who lived in the eighteenth century and was beatified in the nineteenth, and whose writings were declared by high authority not to contain a word that could be justly found fault with,[263]-- {101} there are three sorts of equivocation which may be employed for a good reason, even with the addition of a solemn oath. We are allowed to use ambiguously words having two senses, as the word _volo_, which means both to "wish" and to "fly"; sentences bearing two main meanings, as "This book is Peter's," which may mean either that the book belongs to Peter or that Peter is the author of it; words having two senses, one more common than the other or one literal and the other metaphorical--for instance, if a man is asked about something which it is in his interest to conceal, he may answer, "No, I say," that is "I say the word 'no'"[264] As for mental restrictions, again, such as are "purely mental," and on that account cannot in any manner be discovered by other persons, are not permissible; but we may, for a good reason, make use of a "non-pure mental restriction," which, in the nature of things, is discoverable, although it is not discovered by the person with whom we are dealing.[265] Thus it would be wrong secretly to insert the word "no" in an affirmative oath without any external sign; but it would not be wrong to insert it in a whispering voice or under the cover of a cough. The "good reason" for which equivocations and non-pure mental restrictions may be employed is defined as "any honest object, such as keeping our goods spiritual or temporal."[266] In support of this casuistry it is uniformly said by Catholic apologists that each man has a right to act upon the defensive, that he has a right to keep guard over the knowledge which he possesses in the same way as he may defend his goods; and as for there being any deceit in the matter--why, soldiers use stratagems in war, and opponents use feints in fencing.[267] [Footnote 251: _Ephesians_, iv. 25.] [Footnote 252: Gass, _Geschichte der christlichen Ethik_, i. 90.] [Footnote 253: St. Augustine, _De mendacio_, 6 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, xl. 494 _sq._).] [Footnote 254: _Idem_, _Enchiridion_, 18 (Migne, _op. cit._ xl. 240); _Idem_, _De mendacio_, 21 (Migne, xl. 516). For St. Augustine's views on lying see also his treatise _Contra mendacium_, addressed to Consentius (Migne, xl. 517 _sqq._), and Bindemann, _Der heilige Augustinus_, ii. 465 _sqq._] [Footnote 255: Gratian, _Decretum_, ii. 22. 2. 12, 17. _Catechism of the Council of Trent_, iii. 9. 23.] [Footnote 256: Thomas Aquinas, _Summa theologica_, ii.-ii. **110. 3 _sq._ St. Augustine says (_De mendacio_, 2 [Migne, _op. cit._ xl. 487 _sq._]; _Quæstiones in Genesim_, 145, _ad Gen._ xliv. 15 [Migne, xxxiv. 587]) that jokes which "bear with them in the tone of voice, and in the very mood of the joker a most evident indication that he means no deceit," are not accounted lies, though the thing he utters be not true. This statement is also incorporated in Gratian's _Decretum_ (ii. 22. 2. 18).] [Footnote 257: Gass, _op. cit._ i. 91, 92, 236 _sqq._ Newman, _Apologia pro vita sua_, p. 349 _sq._] [Footnote 258: von Mosheim, _Institutes of Ecclesiastical History_, i. 275. Middleton, _Free Inquiry into the Miraculous Powers, which are supposed to have subsisted in the Christian Church_, _passim_. Lecky, _Rise, and Influence of Rationalism in Europe_, i. 396 _sqq._ Gass, _op. cit._ i. 91, 235. von Eicken, _System der mittelalterlichen Weltanschauung_, pp. 654-656, 663.] [Footnote 259: von Eicken, _op. cit._ p. 656. Poole, _Illustrations of the History of Medieval Thought_, p. 249.] [Footnote 260: Gregory IX. _Decretales_, ii. 24. 27.] [Footnote 261: Simancas, _De catholicis institutionibus_, xlvi. 52 _sq._ p. 365 _sq._] [Footnote 262: Alagona, _Compendium manualis D. Navarri_, xii. 88, p. 94 _sq._:--"Fur, qui est furatus aliquid, si interrogetur a judice non competenti, vel non juridice, an sit furatus tale quid, potest secura conscientia respondere simpliciter, non sum furatus, intelligendo intra se in tali die, vel anno." See also Kames, _op. cit._ iv. 158 _sq._] [Footnote 263: Meyrick, _Moral and Devotional Theology of the Church of Rome_, i. 3.] [Footnote 264: Alfonso de' Liguori, _Theologia moralis_, iii. 151, vol. i. 249.] [Footnote 265: _Ibid._ iii. 152, vol. i. 249.] [Footnote 266: _Ibid._ iii. 151, vol. i. 249.] [Footnote 267: Meyrick, _op. cit._ i. 25] Adherence to truth and especially perfect fidelity to a promise were strongly insisted upon by the code of Chivalry.[268] However exacting or absurd the vow might {102} be, a knight was compelled to perform it in all the strictness of the letter. A man frequently promised to grant whatever another should ask, and he would have lost the honour of his knighthood if he had declined from his word.[269] We are told by Lancelot du Lac that when King Artus had given his word to a knight to make him a present of his wife, he would neither listen to the lamentations of the unfortunate woman, nor to any representations which could be made him; he replied that a king must not go from his word, and the queen was accordingly delivered to the knight.[270] The knights taken in war were readily allowed liberty for the time they asked, on their word of honour that they would return of their own accord, whenever it should be required.[271] So great, it is said, was the knight's respect for an oath, a promise, or a vow, that when they lay under any of these restrictions, they appeared everywhere with little chains attached to their arms or habits to show all the world that they were slaves to their word; nor were these chains taken off till their promise had been performed, which sometimes extended to a term of four or five years.[272] It cannot be expected, of course, that reality should have always come up to the ideal. In the thirteenth century the Count of Champagne declared that he confided more in the lowest of his subjects than in his knights.[273] Moreover, the knightly duty of sincerity seems to have gone little beyond the formal fulfilment of an engagement. "The age of Chivalry was an age of chicane, and fraud, and trickery, which were not least conspicuous among the knightly classes."[274] It is significant that the English law of the thirteenth century, though quite willing to admit in vague phrase that no one should be suffered to gain anything by fraud, was inclined to hold that a man has himself to thank if he is misled by deceit, the king's court generally providing no remedy for him who to {103} his disadvantage had trusted the word of a liar.[275] Towards the end of the Middle Ages and later, crimes against the Mint and the offence of counterfeiting seals, usually accompanied by that of forging letters or official documents, were extremely common in England;[276] and false weights, false measures, and false pretences of all kinds were ordinary instruments of commerce.[277] [Footnote 268: _Book of the Ordre of Chyualry_, foll. 18 b, 31 b, 34 b. Robertson, _History of the Reign of Charles V._ i. 84. Sainte-Palaye, _Mémoires sur l'ancienne chevalerie_, i. 76 _sq._] [Footnote 269: Mills, _History of Chivalry_, p. 152.] [Footnote 270: Lancelot du Lac, vol. ii. fol. 2 a.] [Footnote 271: Sainte-Palaye, _op. cit._ i. 135.] [Footnote 272: _Ibid._ i. 236 _sq._] [Footnote 273: _Ibid._ ii. 47. _Cf._ Kames, _op. cit._ iv. 157.] [Footnote 274: Pike, _History of Crime in England_, i. 283.] [Footnote 275: Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the Time of Edward I._ ii. 535 _sq._] [Footnote 276: Pike, _op. cit._ i. 265, 269; ii. 392.] [Footnote 277: _Ibid._ i. 142; ii. 238.] In modern times, according to Mr. Pike, the Public Records testify a decrease of deception in England.[278] Commercial honesty has improved, and those mean arts to which, during the reigns of the Tudors, even men in the highest positions frequently had recourse, have now, at any rate, descended to a lower grade of society.[279] At present, in the civilised countries of the West, opinion as to what the duty of sincerity implies varies not only in different individuals, but among different classes or groups of people, as also among different nations. Duplicity is held more reprehensible in a gentleman than in a shopkeeper or a peasant. The notion which seems to be common in England, that an advocate is over-scrupulous who refuses to say what he knows to be false if he is instructed to say it,[280] appears strange at least to some foreigners;[281] and in certain countries it is commonly regarded as blamable if a person ostensibly professes a religion in which he does not believe, say, by going to church. The Quakers deem all complimentary modes of speech, for instance in addressing people, to be objectionable as being inconsistent with truth.[282] Certain philosophers have expressed the opinion that veracity is an unconditional duty, which is not to be limited by any expediency, but must be respected in all circumstances. According to Kant, it would be a crime to tell a falsehood to a murderer who asked us whether {104} our friend, of whom he was in pursuit, had taken refuge in our house.[283] Fichte maintains that the defence of so-called necessary lies is "the most wicked argument possible amongst men."[284] Dymond says, "If I may tell a falsehood to a robber in order to save my property, I may commit parricide for the same purpose."[285] But this rigorous view is not shared by common sense, nor by orthodox Protestant theology.[286] Jeremy Taylor asks, "Who will not tell a harmless lie to save the life of his friend, of his child, of himself, of a good and brave man?"[287] Where deception is designed to benefit the person deceived, says Professor Sidgwick, "common sense seems to concede that it may sometimes be right: for example, most persons would not hesitate to speak falsely to an invalid, if this seemed the only way of concealing facts that might produce a dangerous shock: nor do I perceive that any one shrinks from telling fictions to children, on matters upon which it is thought well that they should not know the truth."[288] In the case of grown-up people, however, this principle seems to require the modification made by Hutcheson, that there is no wrong in false speech when the party deceived himself does not consider it an injury to be deceived.[289] Otherwise it might easily be supposed to give support to "pious fraud," which in its crudest form is nowadays generally disapproved of, but which in subtle disguise still has many advocates among religious partisans. It is argued that the most important truths of religion cannot be conveyed into the minds of ordinary men, except by being enclosed, as it were, in a shell of fiction, and that by relating such fictions as if they were facts we are really performing an act of substantial veracity.[290] But this argument seems chiefly to have been invented for the {105} purpose of supporting a dilapidated structure of theological teaching, and can hardly be accepted by any person unprejudiced by religious bias. As a means of self-defence deviation from truth has been justified not only in the case of grosser injuries, but in the case of illegitimate curiosity, as it seems unreasonable that a person should be obliged to supply another with information which he has no right to exact.[291] The obligation of keeping a promise, again, is qualified in various ways. Thoughtful persons would commonly admit that such an obligation is relative to the promisee, and may be annulled by him.[292] A promise to do an immoral act is held not to be binding, because the prior obligation not to do the act is paramount.[293] If, before the time comes to fulfil a promise, circumstances have altered so much that the effects of keeping it are quite different from those which were foreseen when it was made, all would agree that the promisee ought to release the promiser; but if he declines to do so, some would say that the latter is in every case bound by his promise, whilst others would maintain that a considerable alteration of circumstances has removed the obligation.[294] How far promises obtained by force or fraud are binding is a much disputed question.[295] According to Hutcheson, for instance, no regard is due to a promise which has been extorted by unjust violence.[296] Adam Smith, on the other hand, considers that whenever such a promise is violated, though for the most necessary reason, it is always with some degree of dishonour to the person who made it, and that "a brave man ought to die rather than make a promise {106} which he can neither keep without folly nor violate without ignominy."[297] [Footnote 278: _Ibid._ i. 264. _Cf._ _ibid._ ii. 474.] [Footnote 279: _Ibid._ ii. 14 _sq._] [Footnote 280: Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_, p. 316. Paley, _Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy_, iii. 15 (_Complete Works_, ii. 117). The same view was expressed by Cicero (_De officiis_, ii. 14).] [Footnote 281: See also Dymond, _Essays on the Principles of Morals_, ii. 5, p. 50 _sqq._] [Footnote 282: Gurney, _Views and Practices of the Society of Friends_, p. 401.] [Footnote 283: Kant, 'Ueber ein vermeintes Recht, aus Menschenliebe zu Lügen,' in _Sämmtliche Werke_, vii. 309.] [Footnote 284: Fichte, _Das System der Sittenlehre_, p. 371; English translation, p. 303 _sq._] [Footnote 285: Dymond, _op. cit._ ii. 6, p. 57.] [Footnote 286: Reinhard, _System der Christlichen Moral_, iii. 193 _sqq._ Martensen, _Christian Ethics_, 'Individual Ethics,' p. 216 _sqq._ Newman, _Apologia pro vita sua_, p. 274.] [Footnote 287: Taylor, _Whole Works_, xii. 162.] [Footnote 288: Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 316.] [Footnote 289: Hutcheson, _System of Moral Philosophy_, ii. 32.] [Footnote 290: Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 316.] [Footnote 291: Schopenhauer, _Die Grundlage der Moral_, § 17 (_Sämmtliche Werke_, vi. 247 _sqq._).] [Footnote 292: Whewell, _Elements of Morality_, p. 156. Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 305.] [Footnote 293: Dymond, _op. cit._ ii. 6, p. 55. Whewell, _op. cit._ p. 156 _sq._ Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 305. This is also the opinion of Thomas Aquinas (_op. cit._ ii.-ii. 110. 3. 5).] [Footnote 294: Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 306 _sq._ Thomas Aquinas says (_op. cit._ ii.-ii. 110. 3. 5) that a person who does not do what he has promised is excused "if the conditions of persons and things are changed."] [Footnote 295: Dymond, _op. cit._ ii. 6, p. 55 _sq._ Whewell, _op. cit._ pp. 155, 159 _sqq._ Sidgwick, _op. cit._ p. 305 _sq._ Adam Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 486 _sqq._] [Footnote 296: Hutcheson, _System of Moral Philosophy_, ii. 34.] [Footnote 297: Adam Smith, _op. cit._ p. 489.] In point of veracity and good faith the old distinction between duties which we owe to our fellow-countrymen and such as we owe to foreigners is still preserved in various cases. It is particularly conspicuous in the relations between different states, in peace or war. Stratagems and the employment of deceptive means necessary to procure intelligence respecting the enemy or the country are held allowable in warfare, independently of the question whether the war is defensive or aggressive.[298] Deceit has, in fact, often constituted a great share of the glory of the most celebrated commanders; and particularly in the eighteenth century it was a common opinion that successes gained through a spy are more creditable to the skill of a general than successes in regular battles.[299] Lord Wolseley writes:--"As a nation we are bred up to feel it a disgrace even to succeed by falsehood; the word spy conveys something as repulsive as slave; we will keep hammering along with the conviction that honesty is the best policy, and that truth always wins in the long run. These pretty little sentences do well for a child's copy-book, but the man who acts upon them in war had better sheathe his sword for ever."[300] At the same time, there are some exceptions to the general rule that deceit is permitted against an enemy. Under the customs of war it has been agreed that particular acts and signs shall have a specific meaning in order that belligerents {107} may carry on certain necessary intercourse, and it is forbidden to employ such acts or signs in deceiving an enemy. Thus information must not be surreptitiously obtained under the shelter of a flag of truce; buildings not used as hospitals must not be marked with an hospital flag; and persons not covered by the provisions of the Geneva Convention must not be protected by its cross.[301] A curious arbitrary rule affects one class of stratagems by forbidding certain permitted means of deception from the moment at which they cease to deceive. It is perfectly legitimate to use the distinctive emblems of an enemy in order to escape from him or to draw his forces into action; but it is held that soldiers clothed in the uniforms of their enemy must put on a conspicuous mark by which they can be recognised before attacking, and that a vessel using the enemy's flag must hoist its own flag before firing with shot or shell.[302] Disobedience to this rule is considered to entail grave dishonour; for "in actual battle enemies are bound to combat loyally, and are not free to ensure victory by putting on a mask of friendship."[303] But, as Mr. Hall observes, it is not easy to see why it is more disloyal to wear a disguise when it is obviously useless, than when it serves its purpose.[304] Finally, it is universally agreed that promises given to the enemy ought to be kept;[305] this was admitted even by Machiavelli[306] and Bynkershoek,[307] who did not in general burden belligerents with particularly heavy duties. But the restrictions which "international law" {108} lays on deceit against enemies do not seem to be taken very seriously. Treaties between nations and promises given by one state to another, either in war or peace, are hardly meant to be kept longer than it is convenient to keep them. And when an excuse for the breach of faith is felt necessary, that excuse itself is generally a lie. [Footnote 298: _Conférence de Bruxelles_, art. 14. _Instructions for the Government of Armies of the United States in the Field_, art. 16, 101. _Conférence internationale de la paix, La Haye_, 1899, 'Règlement concernant les lois de la guerre sur terre,' art. 24, pt. i. p. 245. Roman Catholicism admits the employment of stratagems in wars which are just (Gratian, _op. cit._ ii. 23. 2. 2; Ayala, _De jure et officiis bellicis et disciplina militari_, i. 8. 1 _sq._; Ferraris, quoted by Adds, _Catholic Dictionary_, p. 945; Nys, _Le droit de la guerre et les précurseurs de Grotius_, p. 128 _sq._), on the authority of St. Augustine, the great advocate of general truthfulness (_Quæstiones in Jesum Nave_, 10, _ad Jos._ viii. 2 [Migne, _op. cit._ xxxiv. 781]:--"Cum autem justum bellum susceperit, utrum aperta pugna utrum insidiis vincat, nihil ad justitiam interest").] [Footnote 299: Halleck, _International Law_, i. 567. Maine, _International Law_, p. 149 _sqq._] [Footnote 300: Wolseley, _Soldier's Pocket-Book for Field Service_, p. 169.] [Footnote 301: _Conférence de Bruxelles_, art. 13 _sq._ _Instructions for the Government of Armies of the United States in the Field_, art. 101, 114, 117. _Manual of the Laws of War on Land, prepared by the Institute of International Law_, (art. 8 (_d_). Hall, _Treatise on International Law_, p. 537 _sq._] [Footnote 302: Hall, _op. cit._ p. 538 _sq._ Bluntschli, _Droit international_, § 565, p. 328 _sq._] [Footnote 303: Bluntschli, _op. cit._ § 565, p. 329.] [Footnote 304: Hall, _op. cit._ p. 539.] [Footnote 305: Heffter, _Das Europäische Völkerrecht der Gegenwart_, § 125, p. 262.] [Footnote 306: Machiavelli, _Discorsi_, iii. 40 (_Opere_, iii. 164).] [Footnote 307: Bynkershoek, _Quæstiones juris publici_, i. 1, p. 4. The maxim of Canon Law, "Fides servanda hosti" (Gratian, _Decretum_, ii. 23. i. 3), however, was greatly impaired by the principle, "Juramentum contra utilitatem ecclesiasticam praestitum non tenet" (Gregory IX. _Decretales_, ii. 24, 27. See Nys, _Le droit de la guerre et les précurseurs de Grotius_, p. 126 _sq._).] CHAPTER XXXI THE REGARD FOR TRUTH AND GOOD FAITH (_concluded_) THE condemnation of untruthfulness and bad faith springs from a variety of sources. In the first place, he who tells a lie, or who breaks a promise, generally commits an injury against another person. His act consequently calls forth sympathetic resentment, and becomes an object of moral censure. Men have a natural disposition to believe what they are told. This disposition is particularly obvious in young children; it is acquired wisdom and experience only that teach incredulity, and, as Adam Smith observes, they very seldom teach it enough.[1] Even people who are themselves pre-eminent liars are often deceived by the falsehoods of others.[2] When detected a deception always implies a conflict between two irreconcilable ideas; and such a conflict gives rise to a feeling of pain,[3] which may call forth resentment against its volitional cause, the deceiver. [Footnote 1: Reid, _Inquiry into the Human Mind_, vi. 24, p. 430 _sqq._ Adam Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 494 _sq._ Dugald Stewart, _Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers of Man_, ii. 340 _sq._] [Footnote 2: Burton, _Two Trips to Gorilla Land_, i. 106 (Mpongwe).] [Footnote 3: Lehmann, _Hovedlovene for det menneskelige Følelseliv_, p. 181. _Cf._ Bain, _Emotions and the Will_, p. 218.] But men are not only ready to believe what they are told, they also like to know the truth. Curiosity, or the love of truth, is coeval with the first operations of the intellect; it seems to be an ultimate fact in the human {110} frame.[4] In our endeavour to learn the truth we are frustrated by him who deceives us, and he becomes an object of our resentment. [Footnote 4: Dugald Stewart, _op. cit._ ii. 334, 340.] Nor are we injured by a deception merely because we like to know the truth, but, chiefly, because it is of much importance for us that we should know it. Our conduct is based upon our ideas; hence the erroneous notion as regards some fact in the past, present, or future, which is produced by a lie or false promise, may lead to unforeseen events detrimental to our interests. Moreover, on discovering that we have been deceived, we have the humiliating feeling that another person has impertinently made our conduct subject to his will. This is a wound on our pride, a blot on our honour. Francis I. of France laid down as a principle, "that the lie was never to be put up with without satisfaction, but by a base-born fellow."[5] "The lie," says Sainte-Palaye, "has always been considered the most fatal and irreparable affront that a man of honour could receive."[6] [Footnote 5: Millingen, _History of Duelling_, i. 71.] [Footnote 6: Sainte-Palaye, _Mémoires sur l'ancienne chevalerie_, i. 78.] How largely the condemnation of falsehood and bad faith is due to the harm suffered by the victim appears from the fact that a lie or breach of faith is held more condemnable in proportion to the magnitude of the harm caused by it. But even in apparently trifling cases the reflective mind strongly insists upon the necessity of truthfulness and fidelity to a given word. Every lie and every unfulfilled promise has a tendency to lessen mutual confidence, to predispose the perpetrator to commit a similar offence in the future, and to serve as a bad example for others. "The importance of truth," says Bentham, "is so great, that the least violation of its laws, even in frivolous matters, is always attended with a certain degree of danger. The slightest deviation from it is an attack upon the respect we owe to it. It is a first transgression which facilitates a second, and familiarises the odious ideal {111} of falsehood."[7] Contrariwise, as Aristotle observes, he who is truthful in unimportant matters will be all the more so in important ones.[8] Similar considerations, however, require a certain amount of reflection and farsightedness; hence intellectual development tends to increase the emphasis laid on the duties of sincerity and good faith. At the earlier stages of civilisation it is frequently considered good form to tell an untruth to a person in order to please him, and ill-mannered to contradict him, however much he be mistaken,[9] for the reason that farther consequences are left out of account. The utilitarian basis of the duty of truthfulness also accounts for those extreme cases in which a deception is held permissible or even a duty, when promoting the true interests of the person subject to it. [Footnote 7: Bentham, _Theory of Legislation_, p. 260.] [Footnote 8: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, iv. 7. 8.] [Footnote 9: Besides statements referred to above, see Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, ii. 137; Hennepin, _New Discovery of a Vast Country in America between New France and New Mexico_, ii. 70; Dall, _Alaska_, p. 398 (Aleuts); Oldfield, in _Trans. Ethn. Soc._ N.S. iii. 255 (West Australian natives). "The natives of Africa," says Livingstone (_Expedition to the Zambesi_, p. 309), "have an amiable of desire to please, and often tell what they imagine will be gratifying, rather than the uninteresting naked truth." An English sportsman, after firing at an antelope, inquired of his dark attendant, "Is it wounded?" The answer was, "Yes! the ball went right into his heart." These mortal wounds never proving fatal, he asked a friend, who understood the language, to explain to the man that he preferred the truth in every case. "He is my father," replied the native, "and I thought he would be displeased if I told him that he never hits at all." The wish to please is likewise a fertile source of untruth in children, especially girls (Sully, _Studies of Childhood_, p. 256).] The detestation of falsehood is in a very large measure due to the motive which commonly is at the bottom of a lie. It is doubtful whether a lie ever is told simply from love of falsehood.[10] The intention to produce a wrong belief has a deeper motive than the mere desire to produce such a belief; and in most cases this motive is the deceiver's hope of benefiting himself at the expense of the person deceived. A better motive makes the act less detestable, or may even serve as a justification. But the broad doctrine that the end sanctifies the means is generally rejected; and the principle which sometimes allows {112} deceit from a benevolent motive has been restricted within very narrow limits by a higher conception of individual freedom and individual rights. Thus the emancipation of morality from theology has brought discredit on the old theory that religious deception is permissible when it serves the object of saving human souls from eternal perdition. The opinion that no motive whatsoever can justify an act of falsehood has been advocated not only by intuitional moralists, but on utilitarian grounds.[11] But it certainly seems absurd to the common sense of mankind that we should be allowed to save our own life or the life of a fellow-man by killing the person who wants to take it, but not by deceiving him. [Footnote 10: Dugald Stewart, _op. cit._ ii. 342.] [Footnote 11: Macmillan, _Promotion of General Happiness_, p. 166 _sq._] It is easy to see why falsehood is so frequently held permissible, praiseworthy, or even obligatory, when directed against a stranger. In early society an injury inflicted on a stranger calls forth no sympathetic resentment. On the contrary, being looked upon with suspicion or hated as an enemy, he is considered a proper object of deception. Among the Bushmans "no one dare give any information in the absence of the chief or father of the clan."[12] "A Bedouin," says Burckhardt, "who does not know the person interrogating him, will seldom answer with truth to questions concerning his family or tribe. The children are taught never to answer similar questions, lest the interrogator may be a secret enemy and come for purposes of revenge."[13] Among the Beni Amer a stranger can never trust a man's word on account of "their contempt for everything foreign."[14] That even civilised nations allow stratagem in warfare is the natural consequence of war itself being allowed; and if good faith is to be preserved between enemies, that is because only thereby useless cruelty can be avoided and an end be put to hostilities. [Footnote 12: Chapman, _Travels in the Interior of South Africa_, i. 76.] [Footnote 13: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 210.] [Footnote 14: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 337.] However, deceit is not condemned merely because it is {113} an injury to the party deceived and as such apt to arouse sympathetic resentment, but it is an object of disinterested, moral resentment also because it is intrinsically antipathetic. Lying is a cheap and cowardly method of gaining an undue advantage, and is consequently despised where courage is respected.[15] It is the weapon of the weak, the woman,[16] and the slave.[17] Fraud, says Cicero, is the property of a fox, force that of a lion; "both are utterly repugnant to society, but fraud is the more detestable."[18] "To lie is servile," says Plutarch, "and most hateful in all men, hardly to be pardoned even in poor slaves."[19] On account of its cowardliness, lying was incompatible with Teutonic and knightly notions of manly honour; and among ourselves the epithets "liar" and "coward" are equally disgraceful to a man. "All . . . in the rank and station of gentlemen," Sir Walter Scott observes, "are forcibly called upon to remember that they must resent the imputation of a voluntary falsehood as the most gross injury."[20] Fichte asks, "Whence comes that internal shame for one's self which manifests itself even stronger in the case of a lie than in the case of any other violation of conscience?" And his answer is, that the lie is accompanied by cowardice, and that nothing so much dishonours us in our own eyes as want of courage.[21] According to Kant, "a lie is the abandonment, and, as it were, the annihilation, of the dignity of a man."[22] [Footnote 15: _Cf._ Schopenhauer, _Die Grundlage der Moral_, § 17 (_Sämmtliche Werke_, vi. 250); Grote, _Treatise on the Moral Ideals_, p. 254.] [Footnote 16: Women are commonly said to be particularly addicted to falsehood (Schopenhauer, _Parerga und Paralipomena_, ii. 497 _sq._ Galton, _Inquiries into Human Faculty_, p. 56 _sq._ Krauss, _Sitte und Brauch der Südslaven_, pp. 508, 514. Maurer, _Bekehrung des Norwegischen Stammmes_, ii. 159 [ancient Scandinavians]. Döllinger, _The Gentile and the Jew_, ii. 234 [ancient Greeks]. Lane, _Arabian Society in the Middle Ages_, p. 219. Le Bon, _La civilisation des Arabes_, p. 433. Loskiel, _History of the Mission of the United Brethren_, i. 16 [Iroquois]. Hearne, _Journey to the Northern Ocean_, p. 307 _sq._ [Northern Indians]. Lyon, _Private Journal_, p. 349 [Eskimo of Igloolik]. Dalager, _Grønlandske Relationer_, p. 69; Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 175).] [Footnote 17: See _infra_, p. 129 _sq._] [Footnote 18: Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 13.] [Footnote 19: Plutarch, _De educatione puerorum_, 14.] [Footnote 20: Scott, 'Essay on Chivalry,' in _Miscellaneous Prose Works_, vi. 58.] [Footnote 21: Fichte, _Das System der Sittenlehre_, p. 370; English translation, p. 302 _sq._] [Footnote 22: Kant, _Metaphysische Anfangungsgründe der Tugendlehre_, p. 84.] {114} But a lie may also be judged of from a very different point of view. It may be not only a sign of cowardice, but a sign of cleverness. Hence a successful lie may excite admiration, a disinterested kindly feeling towards the liar, genuine moral approval; whereas to be detected in a lie is considered shameful. And not only is the clever liar an object of admiration, but the person whom he deceives is an object of ridicule. To the mind of a West African native, Miss Kingsley observes, there is no intrinsic harm in lying, "because a man is a fool who believes another man on an important matter unless he puts on the oath."[23] A Syrian proverb says, "Lying is the salt (goodness) of men, and shameful only to one who believes."[24] [Footnote 23: Kingsley, _West African Studies_, p. 414. _Cf._ Sommerville, 'Ethnogr. Notes in New Georgia,' _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. 394.] [Footnote 24: Burton and Drake, _Unexplored Syria_, i. 275. See also Burckhardt, _Arabic Proverbs_, p. 44 _sq._] The duties of sincerity and good faith are also to some extent, and in certain cases principally, founded on prudential considerations. Although, as the _Märchen_ tells us, it happens every day in the world that the fraudulent is successful,[25] there is a widespread notion that, after all, "honesty is the best policy." "Nothing that is false can be lasting," says Cicero.[26] "The liar is short-lived" (that is, soon detected), say the Arabs.[27] According to a Wolof proverb, "lies, however numerous, will be caught by truth when it rises up."[28] The Basutos have a saying that "cunning devours its master."[29] It has been remarked that "if there were no such thing as honesty, it would be a good speculation to invent it, as a means of making one's fortune."[30] [Footnote 25: Grimm, _Kinder und Hausmärchen_, 'Katze und Maus in Gesellschaft,' 'Die drei Spinnerinnen,' 'Das tapfere Schneiderlein,' &c.] [Footnote 26: Cicero, _De officiis_, ii. 12.] [Footnote 27: Burckhardt, _Arabic Proverbs_, p. 119.] [Footnote 28: Burton, _Wit and Wisdom from West Africa_, p. 15.] [Footnote 29: Casalis, _Basutos_, p. 307.] [Footnote 30: Quoted by Bentham, _Theory of Legislation_, p. 64.] Moreover, lying is attended not only with social disadvantages, but with supernatural danger. The West African Fjort have a tale about a fisherman who every day used to catch and smuggle into his house great quantities of fish, {115} but denied to his brother and relatives that he had caught anything. All this time the fetish Sunga was watching, and was grieved to hear him lie thus. The fetish punished him by depriving him of the power of speech, that he might lie no more, and so for the future he could only make his wants known by signs.[31] In another instance, the Fjort tell us, the earth-spirit turned into a pillar of clay a woman who said that she had no peas for sale, when she had her basket full of them.[32] The Nandi of the Uganda Protectorate believe that "God punishes lying by striking the untruthful person with lightning."[33] The Dyaks of Borneo think that the lightning god is made angry even by the most nonsensical untruth, such as the statement that a man has a cat for his mother or that vermin can dance.[34] In Aneiteum, of the New Hebrides, the belief prevailed that liars would be punished in the life to come;[35] according to the Banks Islanders, they were excluded from the true Panoi or Paradise after death.[36] We have already noticed the emphasis which some of the higher religions lay on veracity and good faith, and other statements maybe added testifying the interest which gods of a more civilised type take in the fulfilment of these duties. In ancient Egypt Amon Ra, "the chief of all the gods," was invoked as "Lord of Truth";[37] and Ma[=a], or Maat, represented as his daughter, was the goddess of truth and righteousness.[38] In a Babylonian hymn the moon god is appealed to as the guardian of truth.[39] The Vedic gods are described as "true" and "not deceitful," as friends of honesty and righteousness;[40] and Agni was the lord of vows.[41] The {116} Zoroastrian Mithra was a protector of truth, fidelity, and covenants;[42] and Rashnu Razista, "the truest true," was the genius of truth.[43] According to the Iliad, Zeus is "no abettor of falsehoods";[44] according to Plato, a lie is hateful not only to men but to gods.[45] Among the Romans Jupiter and Dius Fidius were gods of treaties,[46] and Fides was worshipped as the deity of faithfulness.[47] How shall we explain this connection between religious beliefs and the duties of veracity and fidelity to promises? [Footnote 31: Dennett, _Folklore of the Fjort_, p. 88 _sq._] [Footnote 32: _Ibid._ p. 5.] [Footnote 33: Johnston, _Uganda Protectorate_, ii. 879.] [Footnote 34: Selenka, _Sonnige Welten_, p. 47.] [Footnote 35: Turner, _Samoa_, p. 326.] [Footnote 36: Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 274.] [Footnote 37: Wiedemann, _Religion of the Ancient Egyptians_, p. 112. _Cf._ Brugsch, _Die Aegyptologie_, pp. 49, 91, 92, 97; Amélineau, _Essai sur l'évolution des idées morales dans l'Égypte Ancienne_, pp. 182, 188, 251.] [Footnote 38: Wiedemann, 'Ma[=a], déesse de la vérité,' in _Annales du Musée Guimet_, x. 561 _sqq._ Amélineau, _op. cit._ p. 187. _Infra_, p. 699.] [Footnote 39: Mürdter-Delitzsch, _Geschichte Babyloniens und Assyriens_, p. 37.] [Footnote 40: Bergaigne, _La religion védique_, iii. 199. Macdonell, _Vedic Mythology_, p. 18.] [Footnote 41: _Satapatha-Brâhmana_, iii. 2. 2. 24.] [Footnote 42: Darmesteter, _Ormazd et Ahriman_, p. 78. Geiger, _Civilization of the Eastern Ir[=a]nians_, pp. lvii., 164. Spiegel, _Erânische Alterthumskunde_, iii. 685.] [Footnote 43: Darmesteter, in _Sacred Books of the East_, xxiii. 168.] [Footnote 44: _Iliad_, iv. 235.] [Footnote 45: Plato, _Respublica_, ii. 382.] [Footnote 46: Fowler, _Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic_, pp. 141, 229 _sq._] [Footnote 47: Cicero, _De officiis_, iii. 29. _Idem_, _De natura deorum_, ii. 23; iii. 18. _Idem_, _De legibus_, ii. 8, 11. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, _Antiquitates Romanæ_, ii. 75.] Apart from the circumstances which in some cases make gods vindicators of the moral law in general, as conceived of by their worshippers, there are quite special reasons for their disapproval of insincerity and bad faith. Here again we notice the influence of magic beliefs on the religious sanction of morality. There is something uncanny in the untrue word itself. As Professor Stanley Hall points out, children not in frequently regard every deviation from the most painfully literal truth as alike heinous, with no perspective or degrees of difference between the most barefaced intended and unintended lies. In some children this fear of telling an untruth becomes so neurotic that to every statement, even to yes or no, a "perhaps" or "I think" is added mentally, whispered, or aloud. One boy had a long period of fear that, like Ananias and Sapphira, he might some moment drop down dead for a chance and perhaps unconscious lie.[48] On the other hand, an acted lie is felt to be much less harmful than a spoken one; to point the wrong way when asked where some one is gone is less objectionable than to speak wrongly, to nod is less sinful than to say yes. Indeed, acted lies are for the most {117} part easily gotten away with, whereas some mysterious baneful energy seems to be attributed to the spoken untruth. That its evil influence is looked upon as quite mechanical appears from the palliatives used for it. Many American children are of opinion that a lie may be reversed by putting the left hand on the right shoulder and that even an oath may be neutralised or taken in an opposite sense by raising the left instead of the right hand.[49] Among children in New York "it was sufficient to cross the fingers, elbows, or legs, though the act might not be noticed by the companion accosted, and under such circumstances no blame attached to a falsehood."[50] To think "I do not mean it," or to attach to a statement a meaning quite different from the current one, is a form of reservation which is repeatedly found in children.[51] Nor are feelings and ideas of this kind restricted to the young; they are fairly common among grown-up people, and have even found expression in ethical doctrines. They lie at the root of the Jesuit theory of mental reservations. According to Thomas Aquinas, again, though it is wrong to tell a lie for the purpose of delivering another from any danger whatever, it is lawful "to hide the truth prudently under some dissimulation, as Augustine says."[52] It is not uncommonly argued that in defence of a secret we may not "lie," that is, produce directly beliefs contrary to facts; but that we may "turn a question aside," that is, produce indirectly, by natural inference from our answer, a negatively false belief; or that we may "throw the inquirer on a wrong scent," that is, produce similarly a positively false belief.[53] This extreme formalism may no doubt to some extent be traced to the influence of early training. From the day we learned to speak, the duty of telling the truth has been strenuously enjoined upon us, and the word "lie" has been associated with sin of the {118} blackest hue; whereas other forms of falsehood, being less frequent, less obvious, and less easy to define, have also been less emphasised. But after full allowance is made for this influence, the fact still remains that a mystic efficacy is very commonly ascribed to the spoken word. Even among ourselves many persons would not dare to praise their health or fortune for fear lest some evil should result from their speech; and among less civilised peoples much greater significance is given to a word than among us. Herodotus, after mentioning the extreme importance which the ancient Persians attached to the duty of speaking the truth, adds that they held it unlawful even "to talk of anything which it is unlawful to do."[54] I think, then, we may assume that, if for some reason or other, falsehood is stigmatised, the mysterious tendency inherent in the word easily develops into an avenging power which, as often happens in similar cases, is associated with the activity of a god. [Footnote 48: Stanley Hall, 'Children's Lies,' in _American Journal of Psychology_, iii. 59 _sq._] [Footnote 49: Stanley Hall, 'Children's Lies,' in _American Journal of Psychology_, iii. 68 _sq._] [Footnote 50: Bergen and Newell, 'Current Superstitions,' in _Journal of American Folk-lore_, ii. 111.] [Footnote 51: Stanley Hall, _loc. cit._ p. 68.] [Footnote 52: Thomas Aquinas, _Summa theologica_, ii.-ii. 110. 3. 4.] [Footnote 53: See Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_, p. 317.] [Footnote 54: Herodotus, i. 139.] The punishing power of a word is particularly conspicuous in the case of an oath. But the evil attending perjury does not come from the lie as such: it is in the first place a result of the curse which constitutes the oath. An oath is essentially a conditional self-imprecation, a curse by which a person calls down upon himself some evil in the event of what he says not being true. The efficacy of the oath is originally entirely magical, it is due to the magic power inherent in the cursing words. In order to charge them with supernatural energy various methods are adopted. Sometimes the person who takes the oath puts himself in contact with some object which represents the state referred to in the oath, so that the oath may absorb, as it were, its quality and communicate it to the perjurer. Thus the Kandhs swear upon the lizard's skin, "whose scaliness they pray may be their lot if forsworn," or upon the earth of an ant-hill, "like which they desire that, if false, they may be reduced to powder."[55] The Tunguses regard it as the most dreadful {119} of all their oaths when an accused person is compelled to drink some of the blood of a dog which, after its throat has been cut, is impaled near a fire and burnt, or has its flesh scattered about piece-meal, and to swear:--"I speak the truth, and that is as true as it is that I drink this blood. If I lie, let me perish, burn, or be dried up like this dog."[56] In other cases the person who is to swear takes hold of a certain object and calls it to inflict on him some injury if he perjure himself. The Kandhs frequently take oath upon the skin of a tiger, "from which animal destruction to the perjured is invoked."[57] The Angami Nagas, when they swear to keep the peace, or to perform any promise, "place the barrel of a gun, or a spear, between their teeth, signifying by this ceremony that, if they do not act up to their agreement, they are prepared to fall by either of the two weapons."[58] The Chuvashes, again, put a piece of bread and a little salt in the mouth and swear, "May I be in want of these, if I say not true!" or "if I do not keep my word!"[59] Another method of charging an oath with supernatural energy is to touch, or to establish some kind of contact with, a holy object on the occasion when the oath is taken. The Iowa have a mysterious iron or stone, wrapped in seven skins, by which they make men swear to speak the truth.[60] The people of Kesam, in the highlands of Palembang, swear by an old sacred knife,[61] the Bataks of South Tóba on their village idols,[62] the Ostyaks on the nose of a bear, which is regarded by them as an animal endowed with supernatural power.[63] Among the Tunguses a criminal may be compelled to climb one {120} of their sacred mountains, repeating as he mounts, "May I die if I am guilty," or, "May I lose my children and my cattle," or, "I renounce for ever all success in hunting and fishing if I am guilty."[64] In Tibetan law-courts, when the great oath is taken, "it is done by the person placing a holy scripture on his head, and sitting on the reeking hide of an ox and eating part of the ox's heart."[65] Hindus swear on a copy of the Sanskrit _haribans_, or with Ganges water in their hands, or touch the legs of a Brâhmana in taking an oath.[66] Muhammedans swear on the Koran, as Christians do on the Bible. In Morocco an oath derives efficacy from contact with, or the presence of, any lifeless object, animal, or person endowed with _baraka_, or holiness, such as a saint-house or a mosque, corn or wool, a flock of sheep or a horse, or a shereef. In mediæval Christendom sacred relics were generally adopted as the most effective means of adding security to oaths, and "so little respect was felt for the simple oath that, ere long, the adjuncts came to be looked upon as the essential feature, and the imprecation itself to be divested of binding force without them."[67] [Footnote 55: Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 83.] [Footnote 56: Georgi, _Russia_, iii. 86.] [Footnote 57: Macpherson, _op. cit._ p. 83. _Cf._ Hose, 'Natives of Borneo,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxiii. 165 (Kayans).] [Footnote 58: Butler, _Travels in Assam_, p. 154. Mac Mahon, _Far Cathay_, p. 253. Prain, 'Angami Nagas,' in _Revue coloniale internationale_, v. 490. _Cf._ Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, pp. 193 (Toungtha), 244 _sq._ (Pankhos and Bunjogees); St. John, 'Hill Tribes of North Aracan,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ ii. 242.] [Footnote 59: Georgi, _op. cit._ i. 110.] [Footnote 60: Hamilton, quoted by Dorsey, 'Siouan Cults,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xi. 427.] [Footnote 61: _Glimpses of the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 104.] [Footnote 62: von Brenner, _Besuch bei den Kannibalen Sumatras_, p. 213.] [Footnote 63: Castrén, _Nordiska resor och forskningar_, i. 307, 309; iv. 123 _sq._ _Cf._ Ahlqvist, 'Unter Wogulen und Ostjaken,' in _Acta Societatis Scientiarum Fennicæ_, xiv. 298.] [Footnote 64: Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 86.] [Footnote 65: Waddell, _Buddhism of Tibet_, p. 569, n. 7.] [Footnote 66: Grierson, _Bih[=a]r Peasant Life_, p. 401. Sleeman, _Rambles and Recollections of an Indian Official_, ii. 116.] [Footnote 67: Lea, _Superstition and Force_, p. 29. See also Kaufmann, _Deutsche Geschichte_, ii. 297; Ellinger, _Das Verhältniss der öffentlichen Meinung zu Wahrheit und Lüge im 10. 11. und 12. Jahrhundert_, pp. 30, 111.] Finally, as an ordinary curse, so an oath is made efficacious by bringing in the name of a supernatural being, to whom an appeal is made. When the Comanches of Texas make a sacred pledge or promise, "they call upon the great spirit as their father, and the earth as their mother, to testify to the truth of their asseverations."[68] Of the Chukchi we are told that "as often as they would certify the truth of any thing by oath or solemn protestations they take the sun for their guarantee and security."[69] Among the Tunguses an accused person takes a knife in his hand, brandishes it towards the sun, and says, "If I {121} am guilty, may the sun send diseases into my bowels as mortal as a stab with this knife would be!"[70] An Arab from the province of Dukkâla in Morocco presses a dagger against his chest, saying, "By this poison, may God thrust it into my heart if I did so or so!" If a Masai is accused of having done something wrong, he drinks some blood, which is given him by the spokesman, and says, "If I have done this deed may God kill me"; and it is believed that if he has committed the crime he dies, whereas no harm befalls him if he is innocent.[71] Among the Tshi-speaking peoples of the Gold Coast, "to make an oath binding on the person who takes it, it is usual to give him something to eat or to drink which in some way appertains to a deity, who is then invoked to visit a breach of faith with punishment."[72] Among the Shekani and Bakele people of Southern Guinea, when a covenant between different tribes is about to be formed, their great spirit, Mwetyi, "is always invoked as a witness, and is commissioned with the duty of visiting vengeance upon the party who shall violate the engagement."[73] It seems to be a common practice in certain parts of Africa to swear by some fetish.[74] The Efatese, of the New Hebrides, invoked punishment from the gods in their oaths.[75] In Florida, of the Solomon Group, a man will deny an accusation by some _tindalo_ (that is, the disembodied spirit of some man who already in his lifetime was supposed to be endowed with supernatural power), or by the ghostly frigate-bird, or by the ghostly shark.[76] When an ancient Egyptian wished to give assurance of his honesty and good faith, he called Thoth to witness, the advocate in the heavenly court of justice, without whose justification no soul could stand in the day of judgment.[77] The Eranians swore by Mithra,[78] the Greeks by Zeus,[79] the {122} Romans by Jupiter and Dius Fidius.[80] A god is more able than ordinary mortals to master the processes of nature, and he may also better know whether the sworn word be true or false.[81] It is undoubtedly on account of their superior knowledge that sun or moon or light gods are so frequently appealed to in oaths. The Egyptian god Ra is a solar,[82] and Thoth a lunar[83] deity. The Zoroastrian Mithra, who "has a thousand senses, and sees every man that tells a lie,"[84] is closely connected with the sun;[85] and Rashnu Razista, according to M. Darmesteter, is an offshoot either of Mithra or Ahura Mazda himself.[86] Dius Fidius seems originally to have been a spirit of the heaven, and a wielder of the lightning, closely allied to the great Jupiter.[87] Zeus is all-seeing, the infallible spy of both gods and men.[88] Now, even though the oath has the form of an appeal to a god, it may nevertheless be of a chiefly magic character, being an imprecation rather than a prayer. The oaths which the Moors swear by Allah are otherwise exactly similar in nature to those in which he is not mentioned at all. But the more the belief in magic was shaken, the more the spoken word was divested of that mysterious power which had been attributed to it by minds too apt to confound words with facts, the more prominent became the religious element in the oath. The fulfilment of the self-imprecation was made dependent upon the free will of the deity appealed to, and was regarded as the punishment for an offence committed by the perjurer against the god himself.[89] [Footnote 68: Neighbors, in Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, i. 132.] [Footnote 69: Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 183.] [Footnote 70: Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 85 _sq._] [Footnote 71: Hollis, _Masai_, p. 345.] [Footnote 72: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 196.] [Footnote 73: Wilson, _Western Africa_, p. 392.] [Footnote 74: Schultze, _Der Fetischismus_, p. 111.] [Footnote 75: Turner, _Samoa_, p. 334.] [Footnote 76: Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 217.] [Footnote 77: Tiele, _History of the Egyptian Religion_, p. 229. Amélineau, _op. cit._ p. 251.] [Footnote 78: _Yasts_, x.] [Footnote 79: _Iliad_, iii. 276 _sqq._ Farnell, _Cults of the Greek States_, i. 70.] [Footnote 80: von Lasaulx, _Der Eid bei den Römern_, p. 9.] [Footnote 81: _Cf._ James, _Expedition from Pittsburg to the Rocky Mountains_, i. 267 (Omahas); Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, ii. 231 (Ostyaks).] [Footnote 82: Maspero, _Dawn of Civilization_, p. 87 _sq._ Wiedemann, _Religion of the Ancient Egyptians_, p. 14. Erman, _Handbook of Egyptian Religion_, p. 10.] [Footnote 83: Maspero, _op. cit._ p. 145. Erman, _op. cit._ p. 11.] [Footnote 84: _Yasts_, x. 107.] [Footnote 85: Darmesteter, in _Sacred Books of the East_, xxiii. 122, n. 4. Meyer, _Geschichte des Alterthums_, i. 541 _sq._ Geiger, _op. cit._ i. p. lvi.] [Footnote 86: Darmesteter, in _Sacred Books of the East_, xxiii. 168.] [Footnote 87: Fowler, _Roman Festivals_, p. 141.] [Footnote 88: _Cf._ _Iliad_, iii. 277; Ovid, _Metamorphoses_, iv. 172; Darmesteter, _Essais orientaux_, p. 107; Usener, _Götternamen_, p. 177 _sqq._] [Footnote 89: Grotius says (_De jure belli et pacis_, ii. 13. 12) that even he who swears by false gods is bound, "because, though under false notions, he refers to the general idea of Godhead, and therefore the true God will interpret it as a wrong to himself if perjury be committed."] {123} Owing to its invocation of supernatural sanction, perjury is considered the most heinous of all acts of falsehood.[90] But it has a tendency to make even the ordinary lie or breach of faith a matter of religious concern. If a god is frequently appealed to in oaths, a general hatred of lying and unfaithfulness may become one of his attributes, as is suggested by various facts quoted above. There is every reason to believe that a god is not, in the first place, appealed to because he is looked upon as a guardian of veracity and good faith, but that he has come to be looked upon as a guardian of these duties because he has been frequently appealed to in connection with them. [Footnote 90: Among various peoples perjury is punished even by custom or law. Thus among the Gaika tribe of the Kafirs a person may be fined for taking a false oath in a law case (Brownlee, in Maclean, _Compendium of Kafir Laws and Customs_, p. 124). In Abyssinia a man convicted of perjury "would not only lose his reputation, and be for ever incapacitated from being witness even on the most trivial question, but he would likewise in all probability be bound and severely fined, and might indeed think himself fortunate if he got off with all his limbs in their proper places, or without his hide being scored" (Parkyns, _Life in Abyssinia_, ii. 258 _sq._). The laws of the Malays punish perjury (Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, iii. 90). In India, according to the Laws of Manu (viii. 219 _sq._), he who broke an agreement after swearing to it was to be banished, imprisoned, and fined. Mediæval law-books punished perjurers with the loss of the right hand, by which the oath was sworn (Wilda, _Das Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 983 _sq._; Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law before the Time of Edward I._ ii. 541). In a Danish law of 1537 it is said that the perjurer shall lose the two offending fingers so as to appease the wrath of God (Stemann, _Den danske Retshistorie indtil Christian V.'s Lov_, p. 645). In other cases, again, no civil punishment is affixed to a false oath--for instance, among the Rejangs (Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 240) and Bataks of Sumatra (_Glimpses of the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 86), the Ossetes (Kovalewsky, _Coutume contemporaine_, p. 324), Persians (Polak, _Persien_, ii. 83), and, as it seems, the ancient Hebrews (Keil, _Manual of Biblical Archæology_, ii. 348; Greenstone, 'Perjury,' in _Jewish Encyclopedia_, ix. 640), Greeks (Rohde, _Psyche_, p. 245, note), and Teutons in early times (Wilda, _op. cit._ p. 982; Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 681). Cicero says (_De legibus_, ii. 9) that "the divine punishment of perjury is destruction, the human punishment infamy"; but though perjury _per se_ was not punished in Rome, the law appears from very early times to have contained provisions for punishing false testimony (Hunter, _Roman Law_, p. 1063; see also Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 681). However, the fact that perjury is not treated as a crime by no means implies that it is not regarded as a sin. The punishment of it is left to the offended deity (Marsden, _op. cit._ p. 219; _Glimpses of the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 86; Crawfurd, _op. cit._ iii. 90 [Javanese]).] It seems that sometimes the habit of oath-taking has, in another respect also, made it prudential for men to speak the simple truth in all circumstances. Sir W. H. Sleeman {124} observes that among the woods and hills of India the cotton and other trees are supposed by the natives to be occupied by deities who are vested with a local superintendence over the affairs of a district, or perhaps of a single village. "These," he says, "are always in the view of the people, and every man knows that he is every moment liable to be taken to their court, and to be made to invoke their vengeance upon himself or those dear to him, if he has told a falsehood in what he has stated, or tells one in what he is about to state. Men so situated adhere habitually, and I may say religiously, to the truth; and I have had before me hundreds of cases in which a man's property, liberty, or life, has depended upon his telling a lie, and he has refused to tell it to save either."[91] On the other hand, there are peoples among whom a person's word can hardly be trusted unless confirmed by an oath.[92] And one of the arguments adduced by the Quakers against the taking of oaths is that, if on any particular occasion a man swear in addition to his yea or nay, in order to make it more obligatory or convincing, its force becomes comparatively weak at other times when it receives no such confirmation.[93] [Footnote 91: Sleeman, _op. cit._ ii. 111 _sq._] [Footnote 92: See, besides _supra_, Kingsley, _West African Studies_, p. 414; Chanler, _Through Jungle and Desert_, p. 186 _sq._ (Wamsara).] [Footnote 93: Gurney, _Views and Practices of the Society of Friends_, p. 327.] Modes of conduct which are recommended by prudence tend on that account in various ways to be regarded as morally compulsory or praiseworthy. This subject will be discussed in connection with duties and virtues which are called "self-regarding," but in the present place it is necessary to remind ourselves of the share which early education has in making prudence a matter of moral consideration. Few duties owe so much to the training of parents and teachers as does veracity. Children easily resort to falsehood, in self-defence or otherwise, and truthfulness is therefore enjoined on them with particular emphasis.[94] [Footnote 94: _Cf._ Priestley, in 'Essay III.' introductory to Hartley's _Theory of the Human Mind_, p. xlix. _sq._] {125} The moral ideas referring to truthfulness are, finally, much influenced by the force of habit. Where lying is frequent it is, other things being equal, less strenuously condemned, if condemned at all, than in communities which are strictly truthful. It is natural to speak the truth. Von Jhering's suggestion that man was originally a liar, and that veracity is the result of human progress,[95] is not consistent with facts. Language was not invented to disguise the truth, but to express it. As Hutcheson remarked long ago, "truth is the natural production of the mind when it gets the capacity of communicating it, dissimulation and disguise are plainly artificial effects of design and reflection."[96] It may be doubted whether there are any other mendacious creatures in the world than men.[97] It is said that "lies are told, if not in speech yet in acts, by dogs";[98] but the instances reported of canine deceitfulness[99] are hardly conclusive. As a cautious writer observes, the question is not whether there may be "objective deceitfulness" in the dog's conduct, but whether the motive is deceit: and "the deceitful intent is a piece, not of the observed fact, but of the observer's inference."[100] Nor is the child, strictly speaking, a born liar. M. Compayré even goes so far as to say that, if the child has not been subjected to bad influences, or if a discipline of repression and constraint has not driven him to seek a refuge in dissimulation, he is usually frankness and sincerity itself.[101] Montaigne remarked that the falsehood of a child grows with its growth.[102] According to M. Perez, useful dissimulations are practised by children already at the age of two years, but generally it is only after they are three or four years old that fear of being scolded or punished will lead {126} them into falsehood.[103] We are even told that certain savages are too stupid or too ignorant to tell lies. A Hindu gentleman of the plains, in the valley of the Nerbudda, when asked what made the uncultured people of the woods to the north and south so truthful, replied, "They have not yet learned the value of a lie."[104] But as we know how readily truthful savages become liars when their social conditions change, we may conclude that their veracity was due rather to absence of temptation than to lack of intelligence. In a small community of savages living by themselves, there is no need for lying, nor much opportunity to practise it. There is little scope for those motives which most commonly induce people to practise falsehood--fear and love of gain, combined with a hope of success.[105] Harmony and sympathy generally prevail between the members of the group, and deception is hardly possible since secrets do not exist. [Footnote 95: von Jhering, _Zweck im Recht_, ii. 606.] [Footnote 96: Hutcheson, _System of Moral Philosophy_, ii. 28. _Cf._ Reid, _op. cit._ vi. 24, p. 428 _sqq._; Dugald Stewart, _op. cit._ ii. 333.] [Footnote 97: _Cf._ Schopenhauer, _Essays_, p. 145.] [Footnote 98: Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, i. 405.] [Footnote 99: Romanes, _Animal Intelligence_, pp. 443, 444, 451.] [Footnote 100: Lloyd Morgan, _Animal Life and Intelligence_, p. 400.] [Footnote 101: Compayré, _L'évolution intellectuelle et morale de l'enfant_, p. 309. See also Sully, _Studies of Childhood_, p. 263 _sq._] [Footnote 102: Montaigne, _Essais_, i. 9 (_[OE]uvres_, p. 16).] [Footnote 103: Perez, _First Three Years of Childhood_, pp. 87, 89.] [Footnote 104: Sleeman, _op. cit._ ii. 110.] [Footnote 105: _Cf._ Sarasin, _Forschungen auf Ceylon_, iii. 543 (Veddahs).] The case is different when savages come into frequent contact with foreigners. To deceive a stranger is easy, and no scruple is made of doing so. On the contrary, as we have seen, he is regarded as a proper object of deception, and this opinion is only too often justified by his own behaviour. But when commonly practised in relation to strangers, falsehood easily becomes a habit which affects the general conduct of the man. Hamzé, the teacher of the Druses, said, "When a man once gets into the way of speaking falsely, it is to be apprehended that, in spite of himself, and by the mere force of habit, he will get to speak falsely towards the brethren"; hence it is advisable to speak the truth at all times and before all men.[106] There is indeed abundant evidence that intercourse with strangers, and especially with people of a different race, has had a destructive influence on savage veracity. [Footnote 106: Churchill, _Mount Lebanon_, iii. 225 _sq._] This has been noticed among many of the uncivilised tribes of India. "Formerly," says Mr. Man, "a Sonthal, as a rule, {127} disdained to tell a falsehood, but the influences of civilisation, transfused through the contagious ethics of his Bengali neighbours, have somewhat impaired his truthfulness. In the last four or five years a great change for the worse has become evident, although even now, as a people, they are glorious exceptions to the prevailing idiosyncrasy of the lower class of natives in Bengal. With the latter, speaking the truth has been always an accident; with the Sonthal it was a characteristic principle."[107] Indeed, the Santals in Singbhúm, who live much to themselves, are still described by Colonel Dalton as "a very simple-minded people, almost incapable of deception."[108] The Tipperah, "where he is brought into contact with, or under the influence of the Bengallee, easily acquires their worst vices and superstitions, losing at the same time the leading characteristic of the primitive man--the love of truth."[109] Other tribes, like the Garos and Bhúmij, have likewise been partly contaminated by their intercourse with Bengalis, and acquired from them a propensity to lie, which, in former days, was altogether foreign to them.[110] The Kakhyens are at the present time lazy, thievish, and untrustworthy, "whether their character has been deteriorated by knavish injustice on the part of Chinese traders, or high-handed extortion and wrong on the part of Burmese."[111] The Ladakhis are, in general, "frank, honest, and moral when not corrupted by communication with the dissolute Kashmiris."[112] Of the Pahárias, who according to an earlier authority would sooner die than lie,[113] it is now reported that "those who have most to do with them say they cannot rely on their word, and that they not only lie without scruple, but are scarcely annoyed at being detected."[114] The Todas, whilst they call falsehood one of the worst vices and have a temple dedicated to Truth, seem nowadays only too often to forget both the temple and its object;[115] and we are told that the dissimulation they practise in their dealings with Europeans has been brought about by the habit of paying them for every insignificant item of information.[116] According to an {128} Indian civil servant quoted by Mr. Spencer, various other hill tribes, originally distinguished by their veracity, have afterwards been rendered less veracious by contact with the whites.[117] [Footnote 107: Man, _Sonthalia_, p. 14. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 20.] [Footnote 108: Dalton, _Ethnology of Bengal_, _op. cit._ p. 217.] [Footnote 109: Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, p. 216.] [Footnote 110: Dalton, _op. cit._ pp. 68, 177.] [Footnote 111: Anderson, _Mandalay to Momien_, p. 151.] [Footnote 112: Moorcroft and Trebeck, _Travels in the Himalayan Provinces of Hindustan_, i. 321.] [Footnote 113: Shaw, quoted by Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 274.] [Footnote 114: Cumming, _In the Himalayas_, p. 404 _sq._] [Footnote 115: Harkness, _A Singular Aboriginal Race inhabiting the Neilgherry Hills_, p. 18.] [Footnote 116: Metz, _Tribes inhabiting the Neilgherry Hills_, p. 13.] [Footnote 117: Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, ii. 234. See also Hodgson, _Miscellaneous Essays_, i. 152. (Bódo and Dhimáls); Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 206 (Múndas).] Of the Andaman Islanders Mr. Man observes:--"It has been remarked with regret by all interested in the race, that intercourse with the alien population has, generally speaking, prejudicially affected their morals; and that the candour, veracity, and self-reliance they manifest in their savage and untutored state are, when they become associated with foreigners, to a great extent lost, and habits of untruthfulness, dependence, and sloth engendered."[118] Riedel makes a similar remark with reference to the natives of Ambon and Uliase.[119] Mr. Sommerville believes that the natives of New Georgia, in the Solomon Islands, learned their practice of cheating from European traders.[120] [Footnote 118: Man, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 92.] [Footnote 119: Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes en Papua_, p. 41.] [Footnote 120: Sommerville, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxvi. 394.] Among the Ostyaks increasing civilisation has proved injurious to their ancient honesty, and those who live in the neighbourhood of towns or large villages have become even more deceitful than the colonists.[121] A similar change has taken place with other tribes belonging to the Russian Empire, for instance the Tunguses[122] and Kamchadales.[123] [Footnote 121: Castrén, _op. cit._ ii. 121.] [Footnote 122: Dall, _Alaska_, p. 518.] [Footnote 123: Steller, _Beschreibung von dem Lande Kamtschatka_, p. 285. Sarytchew, 'Voyage of Discovery to the North-East of Siberia,' in _Collection of Modern and Contemporary Voyages_, v. 67.] We hear the same story from America.[124] Among the Omahas "formerly only two or three were notorious liars; but now, there are about twenty who do not lie."[125] The old men of the Ojibwas all agree in saying that before the white man came and resided among them there was less lying than there is now.[126] The Indians of Mexico, Lumholtz writes, "do not tell the truth unless it suits them."[127] But with reference to some of them, the Tarahumares, he adds that, where they have had little or nothing to do with the whites, they are trustworthy, and profit is no inducement to them, as they believe {129} that their gods would be angry with them for charging an undue price.[128] [Footnote 124: Domenech, _Seven Years Residence in the Great Deserts of North America_, ii. 69. _Cf._ Hearne, _Journey to the Northern Ocean_, pp. 307, 308, 310 (Chippewyans); Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 335 _sq._] [Footnote 125: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 370.] [Footnote 126: Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, ii. 139.] [Footnote 127: Lumholtz, _Unknown Mexico_, ii. 477.] [Footnote 128: Lumholtz, _Unknown Mexico_, i. 244, 418.] The deceitfulness of many African peoples is undoubtedly in some degree a result of their intercourse with foreigners. In Sierra Leone, says Winterbottom, the natives on the sea coast, who are chiefly engaged in commerce, "are in general shrewd and artful, sometimes malevolent and perfidious. Their long connection with European slave traders has tutored them in the arts of deceit."[129] The Yorubas, according to Burton, are eminently dishonest only "in and around the cities."[130] Among the Kalunda those who live near the great caravan roads and have had much to do with foreign traders are suspicious and false.[131] And the Hottentots, of whose truthfulness earlier writers spoke very highly, are nowadays said to be addicted to lying.[132] [Footnote 129: Winterbottom, _Native Africans in the Neighbourhood of Sierra Leone_, i. 206.] [Footnote 130: Burton, _Abeokuta_, i. 303.] [Footnote 131: Pogge, _Im Reiche des Muata Jamwo_, p. 236.] [Footnote 132: Fritsch, _Die Eingeborenen Süd-Afrika's_, p. 307 _sq._] It has also been noticed that mendacity is favoured among children by much intercourse with strangers, when "first impressions" are consciously made, as also by frequent change of environment, or of school or residence, as such changes give rise to a feeling that "new leaves" can be easily turned.[133] [Footnote 133: Stanley Hall, in _American Journal of Psychology_, iii. 70.] When a social unit is composed of loosely connected sub-groups, the intercourse between members of different sub-groups resembles in many respects that between foreigners. Social incoherence is thus apt to lead to deceitful habits, as was the case in the Middle Ages. The same phenomenon is to be observed in the East; perhaps also among the Desert Arabs and the Fuegians, who live in small parties which only occasionally meet and soon again separate. Another factor which has favoured deception is social differentiation. The different classes of society have often little sympathy for each other, their interests are not infrequently conflicting, deceit is a means of procuring advantages, and, for the inferior classes especially, a means of self-protection. As Euripides observes, slaves are in {130} the habit of concealing the truth.[134] In Eastern Africa, says Livingstone, falsehood is a vice prevailing among the free, but still more among the slaves; "one can scarcely induce a slave to translate anything truly: he is so intent on thinking of what will please."[135] [Footnote 134: Euripides, _Ph[oe]nissæ_, 392. _Cf._ Burton, _Arabian Nights_, i. 176, n. 1.] [Footnote 135: Livingstone, _Expedition to the Zambesi_, p. 309. See also Polack, _Manners and Customs of the New Zealanders_, ii. 59.] Hardly anything has been a greater inducement to falsehood than oppression. Whilst the old Makololo were truthful, this is not the case with their sons, "who, having been brought up among the subjected tribes, have acquired some of the vices peculiar to a menial and degraded race."[136] The Wanyoro, who are described as "splendid liars," exercised deception chiefly to evade the intolerable exactions of their own chiefs, whereas they are fairly truthful in contact with Europeans who attempt to treat them justly.[137] The duplicity and cunning of the Malagasy are "the natural result of centuries of superstition, ignorance, and submission to the rule of tyrannical despots, with whom the spy system has always been a necessity."[138] In Morocco the independent Jbâla, or mountaineers of the North, are more to be trusted than the Arabs of the plains, who have long been suffering from the extortions of rapacious officials. The duplicity of Orientals is very largely due to their despotic form of government.[139] In India, Mr. Percival observes, "despotism in one form or other that has so long prevailed, and the consequent oppression attendant thereon, must have rendered it difficult to make way without fraud. Deception and arts of cunning, under such circumstances, being the only means at the command of the inferior portions of the community for gaining their ends, and securing the plainest rights, they would resort to them as the only way of avoiding certain ruin."[140] The Chinese habit of lying has {131} been attributed partly to the truckling fear of officers.[141] In China and many other parts of the East, says Sir J. Bowring, "there is a fear of truth _as_ truth, lest its discovery should lead to consequences of which the inquirer never dreams, but which are present to the mind of the person under interrogation."[142] [Footnote 136: Livingstone, _Expedition to the Zambesi_, p. 283.] [Footnote 137: Johnston, _Uganda Protectorate_, ii. 591.] [Footnote 138: Little, _Madagascar_, p. 72.] [Footnote 139: Vámbéry, _Der Islam im neunzehnten Jahrhundert_, p. 231.] [Footnote 140: Percival, _Land of the Veda_, p. 288. _Cf._ Malcolm, _Memoir of Central India_, ii. 171; Hodgson, _Miscellaneous Essays_, i. 152.] [Footnote 141: Wells Williams, _The Middle Kingdom_, i. 835.] [Footnote 142: Bowring, _Siam_, i. 105 _sq._] * * * * * The regard for truth displays itself not only in the condemnation of falsehood, but in the idea that, under certain circumstances, it is a person's duty to inform others of the truth, although there is no deception in withholding it. This duty is limited by utilitarian considerations, and it is less insisted on than the duty of refraining from falsehood; positive commandments, as we have seen, are generally less stringent than the corresponding negative commandments.[143] But to disclose the truth for the benefit of others, when it is attended with injurious consequences for the person who discloses it, can hardly fail to evoke moral approval, and may be deemed a merit of the highest order. [Footnote 143: _Supra_, i. 303 _sqq._] The regard for truth goes a step further still. It may be obligatory or praiseworthy not only to spread the knowledge of truth, but to seek for it. The possession of knowledge, of some kind or other, is universally respected. A Wolof proverb says, "Not to know is bad, not to wish to know is worse."[144] In the moral and religious systems of the East knowledge is one of the chief pursuits of man. Confucius described virtue as consisting of knowledge, magnanimity, and valour.[145] The ancients, he says, "wishing to rectify their hearts, . . . first desired to be sincere in their thoughts. Wishing to be sincere in their thoughts, they first extended to the utmost their knowledge. Such extension of knowledge lay in the investigation of things."[146] Knowledge is to be pursued not for theoretical, but for {132} moral purposes; the Master said, "It is not easy to find a man who has learned for three years without coming to be good."[147] The Hindus maintain that ignorance is the greatest of evils, and that the sole and ultimate object of life should be to give and receive instruction.[148] It is said in the Laws of Manu, "A man is not therefore considered venerable because his head is gray; him who, though young, has learned the Veda, the gods consider to be venerable."[149] According to the Mahabharata, it is by knowledge that a creature is liberated, by knowledge that he becomes the Eternal, Imperceptible, and Undecaying.[150] Buddhism regards sin as folly and delusion as the cause of crime;[151] "the unwise man cannot discover the difference between that which is evil and that which is good, as a child knows not the value of a coin that is placed before him."[152] And the highest of all gifts, the source of abiding salvation, is the knowledge of the identity between the individual and God, in whom and by whom the individual lives, and moves, and has his being.[153] According to one of the Pahlavi texts, wisdom is better than wealth of any kind;[154] through the power of wisdom it is possible to do every duty and good work;[155] the religion of the Mazda-worshippers is apprehended more fully by means of the most perfect wisdom, and "even the struggle and warfare of Irân with foreigners, and the smiting of Aharman and the demons it is possible to effect through the power of wisdom."[156] A strong dash of intellectualism is a prominent feature in the Rabbinic religion. The highest virtue lies not only in the fulfilment but in the study of the law. There is a special merit bound up in it that will assist man both in this world and in the world to come; and it is said that even a bastard who is learned in {133} the law is more honoured than a high-priest who is not.[157] Among Muhammedans, also, great respect is shown to men of learning.[158] Knowledge, the Prophet said, "lights the way to Heaven"--"He dies not who gives life to learning"--"With knowledge the servant of God rises to the heights of goodness and to a noble position"--"The ink of the scholar is more holy than the blood of the martyr."[159] [Footnote 144: Burton, _Wit and Wisdom from West Africa_, p. 6.] [Footnote 145: _Chung Yung_, xx. 8. Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 105.] [Footnote 146: _Tâ Hsio_, 4.] [Footnote 147: _Lun Yü_, viii. 12. _Cf._ Faber, _Digest of the Doctrines of Confucius_, p. 60; de Lanessan, _La morale des philosophes chinois_, p. 27.] [Footnote 148: Percival, _Land of the Veda_, p. 263.] [Footnote 149: _Laws of Manu_, ii. 156.] [Footnote 150: Muir, _Original Sanskrit Texts_, v. 327.] [Footnote 151: Rhys Davids, _Hibbert Lectures on the History of Buddhism_, p. 208.] [Footnote 152: Hardy, _Manual of Budhism_, p. 505.] [Footnote 153: Rhys Davids, _op. cit._ p. 209.] [Footnote 154: _Dinâ-î Maînôg-î Khirad_, xlvii. 6.] [Footnote 155: _Ibid._ i. 54.] [Footnote 156: _Ibid._ lvii. 15 _sq._] [Footnote 157: Montefiore, _Hibbert Lectures on the Religion of the Ancient Hebrews_, p. 495. Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 35.] [Footnote 158: Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 301 _sq._] [Footnote 159: Ameer Ali, _Ethics of Islâm_, pp. 47, 49.] In Christianity the knowledge of truth became a necessary requirement of salvation. But here, as in the East, the truth which alone was valued was religious truth. All knowledge that was not useful to salvation was, indeed, despised, and science was regarded not only as valueless, but as sinful.[160] "The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God."[161] If it happened that any one gave himself to letters, or lifted up his mind to the contemplation of the heavenly bodies, he passed instantly for a magician or a heretic.[162] So also every mental disposition which is essential to scientific research was for centuries stigmatised as offensive to the Almighty; it was a sin to doubt the opinions which had been instilled in childhood before they had been examined, to notice any objection to those opinions, to resolve to follow the light of evidence wherever it might lead.[163] Yet we are told, even by highly respectable writers, that the modern world owes its scientific spirit to the extreme importance which Christianity {134} assigned to the possession of truth, of _the_ truth.[164] According to M. Réville, "it was the orthodox intolerance of the Church in the Middle Ages which impressed on Christian society this disposition to seek truth at any price, of which the modern scientific spirit is only the application. The more importance the Church attached to the profession of the truth--to the extent even of considering involuntary error as in the highest degree a damnable crime--so much the more the sentiment of the immense value of this truth arose in the general persuasion, along with a resolve to conquer it wherever it was felt not to be possessed. How otherwise," M. Réville asks, "can we explain that science was not developed and has not been pursued with constancy, except in the midst of Christian societies?"[165] This statement is characteristic of the common tendency to attribute to the influence of the Christian religion almost anything good which may be found among Christian nations. But, surely, the patient and impartial search after hidden truth, for the sake of truth, which constitutes the essence of scientific research, is not congenial to, but the very opposite of, that ready acceptance of a revealed truth for the sake of eternal salvation, which was insisted upon by the Church. And what about that singular love of abstract knowledge which flourished in ancient Athens, where Aristotle declared it a sacred duty to prefer truth to everything else,[166] and Socrates sacrificed his life on its altar? It seems that the modern scientific spirit is only a revival and development of a mental disposition which was for ages suppressed by the persecuting tendencies of the Church and the extreme contempt for learning displayed by the barbarian invaders and their descendants. Even when they had settled in the countries which they had conquered, the {135} Teutons would not permit their children to be instructed in any science, for fear lest they should become effeminate and averse from war;[167] and long afterwards it was held that a nobleman ought not to know letters, and that to write and read was a shame to gentry.[168] [Footnote 160: Gibbon, _Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_, ii. 185. von Eicken, _Geschichte der mittelalterlichen Weltanschauung_, pp. 128-130, 589 _sqq._] [Footnote 161: _1 Corinthians_, iii. 19. _Cf._ Lactantius, _Divines Institutiones_, iii. 3 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, vi. 354 _sqq._); St. Augustine, _De Civitate Dei_, viii. 10 (Migne, xli. 234).] [Footnote 162: Chapelain, _De la lecture des vieux romans_, p. 20. As late as the middle of the seventeenth century a powerful party was rising in England who said that all learning was unfavourable to religion, and that it was sufficient for everyone to be acquainted with his mother-tongue alone (Twells, _Life of Pocock_, p. 176). The Duke de Saint Simon, who in 1721 and 1722 was the French ambassador in Madrid, states (_Mémoires_, xxxv. 209) that in Spain science was a crime, and ignorance and stupidity the chief virtues.] [Footnote 163: Lecky, _Rationalism in Europe_, ii. 87 _sq._] [Footnote 164: Ritchie, _Natural Rights_, p. 172. _Cf._ Kuenen, _Hibbert Lectures on National Religions and Universal Religions_, p. 290.] [Footnote 165: Réville, _Prolegomena of the History of Religions_, p. 226.] [Footnote 166: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, i. 6. 1. Prof. Ritchie argues (_op. cit._ p. 172 _sq._) that a devotion to truth as such was in the ancient world known only to a few philosophers. Prof. Fowler is probably more correct in saying (_Principles of Morals_, ii. 45, 220 _sq._; _Progressive Morality_, p. 114) that it was more common amongst the Greeks than amongst ourselves.] [Footnote 167: Procopius, _De bello Gothorum_, i. 2. Robertson, _History of the Reign of Charles V._ i. 234. Millingen, _op. cit._ i. 22 _sq._ n. [dagger]] [Footnote 168: Alain Chartier, quoted by Sainte-Palaye, _op. cit._ ii. 104. See also De la Nouë, _Discours politiques et militaires_, p. 238; Lyttleton, _Life of Henry II._ ii. 246 _sq._ The ignorance of the mediæval clergy has been somewhat exaggerated by Robertson (_op. cit._ pp. 21, 22, 278 _sq._). Even in the dark ages it was not a very uncommon thing for the clergy to be able to read and write (Maitland, _The Dark Ages_, p. 16 _sqq._).] The regard for knowledge springs in the first instance from the love of it. As Aristotle said, "all men are by nature desirous of knowledge."[169] But this feeling is not equally strong, nor equally deep, in all. The curiosity of savages, however great it often may be,[170] has chiefly reference to objects or events which immediately concern their welfare or appear to them alarming, or to trifles which attract attention on account of their novelty. If their curiosity were more penetrating, they would no longer remain savages; an extended desire of knowledge leads to civilisation. But curiosity or love of knowledge, whether in savage or civilised men, is not resolvable merely into views of utility; as Dr. Brown observed, we feel it without reflecting on the pleasure which we are to enjoy or the pain which we are to suffer.[171] When highly developed, it drives men to scientific investigations even though no practical benefits are expected from the results. This devotion to truth for its own sake, pure and disinterested as it is, has a singular tendency to excite regard and admiration in everyone who has come under its influence. From the utilitarian point of view it has been defended on {136} the ground that, on the whole, every truth is in the long run useful and every error harmful, and that we can never exactly tell in advance what benefits may accrue even from a knowledge which is apparently fruitless. But it seems that our love of truth is somewhat apt to mislead our moral judgment. When duly reflecting on the matter, we cannot help making a moral distinction between him who pursues his studies merely from an instinctive craving for knowledge, and him who devotes his life to the search of truth from a conviction that he may thereby promote human welfare. [Footnote 169: Aristotle, _Metaphysica_, i. 1. 1, p. 980. _Cf._ Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 4.] [Footnote 170: Murdoch, 'Ethnological Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 42 (Eskimo). Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, p. 177. Anderson, _Mandalay to Momien_, p. 151 (Kakhyens). Foreman, _Philippine Islands_, p. 188 (Tagálog natives of the North). Bock, _Head Hunters of Borneo_, p. 209 (Dyaks). Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 320 (natives of Timor-laut). Dieffenbach, _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 108.] [Footnote 171: Dugald Stewart, _op. cit._ ii. 336. Brown, _Lectures on the Philosophy of the Human Mind_, lec. 67, p. 451.] CHAPTER XXXII THE RESPECT FOR OTHER MEN'S HONOUR AND SELF-REGARDING PRIDE--POLITENESS THERE are many acts, forbearances, and omissions, the offensiveness of which mainly or exclusively springs from men's desire to be respected by their fellow-men and their dislike of being looked down upon. Foremost among these are attacks upon people's honour and good name. A man's honour may be defined as the moral worth he possesses in the eyes of the society of which he is a member, and it behoves other persons to acknowledge this worth and, especially, not to detract from it by imputing to him, on insufficient grounds, such behaviour as is generally considered degrading. The censure to which he is subject or the contempt in which he is held may no doubt affect his welfare in various ways, but it is chiefly painful as a violation of his personal dignity. Hence the duty of respecting a man's honour is on the whole contained in the more comprehensive obligation of showing deference, in words and deeds, for his feeling of self-regarding pride. This feeling, or at least the germ of it, is found already in some of the lower animals. Among "high-life" dogs, says Professor Romanes, "wounded sensibilities and loss of esteem are capable of producing much keener suffering than is mere physical pain." A reproachful word or look from any of his friends made a {138} Skye terrier miserable for a whole day; and another terrier, who when in good humour used to perform various tricks, was never so pleased as when his joke was duly appreciated, whereas "nothing displeased him so much as being laughed at when he did not intend to be ridiculous."[1] Monkeys also, according to Dr. Brehm, are "very sensitive to every kind of treatment they may receive, to love and dislike, to encouraging praise and chilling blame, to pleasant flattery and wounding ridicule, to caresses and chastisement."[2] [Footnote 1: Romanes, _Animal Intelligence_, pp. 439, 444.] [Footnote 2: Brehm, _From North Pole to Equator_, p. 299. _Cf._ _ibid._ pp. 304-306, Brehm, _Thierleben_, i. 75, 157; Schultze, _Vergleichende Seelenkunde_, i. pt. i. 110; Perty, _Das Seelenleben der Thiere_, p. 66.] Among the savage races of men, as among civilised peoples, self-regarding pride is universal, and in many of them it is a very conspicuous trait of character.[3] The Veddah of Ceylon, says Mr. Nevill, "is proud in the extreme, and considers himself no man's inferior. Hence he is keenly sensitive to ridicule, contempt, and even patronage. There is nothing he dreads more than being laughed at as a savage, because he dislikes clothes and cultivation."[4] Australian aborigines are described as "extravagantly proud,"[5] as "vain and fond of approbation."[6] In Fiji "anything like a slight deeply offends a native, and is not soon forgotten."[7] The Negroes of Sierra Leone "possess a great share of pride, and are easily affected by an insult: they cannot hear even a harsh expression, or a raised tone of voice, without shewing that {139} they feel it."[8] The Araucanians, inhabiting parts of Chili, "are naturally fond of honourable distinction, and there is nothing they can endure with less patience than contempt or inattention."[9] The North American Indians, says Perrot, "ont généralement touts beaucoup de vaine gloire dans leurs actions bonnes ou mauvaises. . . . L'ambition est en un mot une des plus fortes passions qui les anime."[10] The Indian of British Columbia, for instance, "watches that he may receive his proper share of honour at festivals; he cannot endure to be ridiculed for even the slightest mistake; he carefully guards all his actions, and looks for due honour to be paid to him by friends, strangers, and subordinates. This peculiarity appears most clearly in great festivals."[11] Thus, in numerous instances, "persons who have been hoarding up property for ten, fifteen, or twenty years (at the same time almost starving themselves for want of clothing), have given it all away to make a show for a few hours, and to be thought of consequence."[12] Speaking of the Eskimo about Behring Strait, Mr. Nelson observes, "As with all savages, the Eskimo are extremely sensitive to ridicule and are very quick to take offence at real or seeming slights."[13] Among the Atkha Aleuts it has happened that men have committed suicide from disappointment at the failure of an undertaking, fearing that they would become the laughing-stock of the village.[14] Among many other savages shame or wounded pride is not uncommonly a cause of suicide.[15] The Hos of Chota Nagpore have a saying that for a wife who has been reproved by her husband {140}"nothing remains but the water at the bottom of the well";[16] and in New Zealand native women sometimes killed themselves because they had been rebuked for negligence in cooking or for want of care towards a child.[17] [Footnote 3: Dieffenbach, _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 107; Colenso, _Maori Races of New Zealand_, p. 56. Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, i. 54. Raffles, _History of Java_, i. 249. St. John, _Life in the Forests of the Far East_, ii. 323 (Malays of Sarawak). Man, 'Aboriginal Inhabitants of the Andaman Islands,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 94. Stewart, 'Notes on Northern Cachar,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxiv. 609 (Nagas). Bergmann, _Nomadische Streifereien unter den Kalmüken_, ii. 290, 295, 296, 312. Högström, _Beskrifning öfver de til Sveriges Krona lydande Lapmarker_, p. 152 (Lapps). Dall, _Alaska_, p. 392 _sq._ (Aleuts). Brett, _Indian Tribes of Guiana_, p. 103.] [Footnote 4: Nevill, 'Vaeddas of Ceylon,' in _Taprobanian_, i. 192. _Cf._ Sarasin, _Ergebnisse naturwissenschaftlicher Forschungen auf Ceylon_, iii. 537.] [Footnote 5: Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 109.] [Footnote 6: Mathew, in Curr, _The Australian Race_, iii. 155.] [Footnote 7: Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, p. 105. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 103 _sq._] [Footnote 8: Winterbottom, _Native Africans in the Neighbourhood of Sierra Leone_, i. 211.] [Footnote 9: Molina, _History of Chili_, ii. 113.] [Footnote 10: Perrot, _Memoire sur les m[oe]urs, coustumes et relligion des sauvages de l'Amerique septentrionale_, p. 76. _Cf._ Buchanan, _Sketches of the History, Manners, and Customs of the North American Indians_, p. 165; Matthews, _Ethnography and Philology of the Hidatsa Indians_, p. 41.] [Footnote 11: Boas, in _Fifth Report on the North-Western Tribes of Canada_, p. 19.] [Footnote 12: Duncan, quoted by Mayne, _Four Years in British Columbia_, p. 295.] [Footnote 13: Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 300.] [Footnote 14: Yakof, quoted by Petroff, _Report on Alaska_, p. 158. _Cf._ Dall, _op. cit._ p. 391 (Aleuts).] [Footnote 15: See _infra_, on Suicide; Lasch, 'Besitzen die Naturvölker ein persönliches Ehrgefühl?' in _Zeitschr. f. Socialwissenschaft_, iii. 837 _sqq._] [Footnote 16: Bradley-Birt, _Chota Nagpore_, p. 104. _Cf._ Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 206.] [Footnote 17: Colenso, _op. cit._ p. 57.] Like other injuries, an insult not only affects the feelings of the victim, but arouses sympathetic resentment in outsiders, and is consequently disapproved of as wrong. Among the Maoris, if anybody wantonly tried to hurt another's feelings, it was immediately repressed, and "such a person was spoken of as having had no parents, or, as having been born (laid) by a bird."[18] In the Malay Archipelago, "among some of the tribes, abusive language cannot with impunity be used even to a slave. Blows are still more intolerable, and considered such grievous affronts, that, by law, the person who receives them is considered justified in putting the offender to death."[19] The natives of the Tonga Islands hold no bad moral habit to be more "ridiculous, depraved, and unjust, than publishing the faults of one's acquaintances and friends . . . . ; and as to downright calumny or false accusation, it appears to them more horrible than deliberate murder does to us: for it is better, they think, to assassinate a man's person than to attack his reputation."[20] According to the customary laws of the Fantis in West Africa, "where a person has been found guilty of using slanderous words, he is bound to retract his words publicly, in addition to paying a small fine by way of compensation to the aggrieved party. Words imputing witchcraft, adultery, immoral conduct, crime, and all words which sound to the disreputation of a person of whom they are spoken are actionable."[21] [Footnote 18: _Ibid._ p. 53.] [Footnote 19: Crawfurd, _op. cit._ iii. 119 _sq._] [Footnote 20: Mariner, _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 163 _sq._] [Footnote 21: Sarbah, _Fanti Customary Laws_, p. 94.] Among the Aztecs of ancient Mexico he who wilfully calumniated another, thereby seriously injuring his {141} reputation, was condemned to have his lips cut off, and sometimes his ears also; whilst in Tezcuco the slanderer suffered death.[22] In the Chinese penal code a special book is provided for the prevention and punishment of opprobrious and insulting language, as "having naturally a tendency to produce quarrels and affrays."[23] Among Arabs all insulting expressions have their respective fines ascertained in the _[k.]ady_'s court.[24] It is said in the Talmud:--"Let the honour of thy neighbour be to thee like thine own. Rather be thrown into a fiery furnace than bring any one to public shame."[25] [Footnote 22: Bancroft, _Native Races of the Pacific States_, ii. 463.] [Footnote 23: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, p. 354 n.*] [Footnote 24: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 70 _sq._] [Footnote 25: Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 57.] The Roman Law of the Twelve Tables contained provisions against libellers,[26] and throughout the whole history of Roman law an attack upon honour or reputation was deemed a serious crime.[27] As for wrongful prosecution, which may be regarded as an aggravated form of defamation, the law of the later Empire required that any one bringing a criminal charge should bind himself to suffer in case of failure the penalty that he had endeavoured to call down upon his adversary.[28] Among Teutonic peoples defamatory words and libelling were already at an early date punished with a fine.[29] The Salic Law decrees that a person who calls a freeborn man a "fox" or a "hare" or a "dirty fellow," or says that he has thrown away his shield, must pay him three solidi;[30] whilst, according to one text of the same law, it cost 188 solidi (or nearly as much as was paid for the murder of a Frankish freeman)[31] to call a freeborn woman a witch or a harlot, in case the truth of the charge could not be proved.[32] {142} The oldest English laws exacted _bót_ and _wíte_ from persons who attacked others with abusive words.[33] In the thirteenth century, in almost every action before an English local court, the plaintiff claimed compensation not only for the "damage," but also for the "shame" which had been done him.[34] We further find that regular actions for defamation were common in the local courts; whereas in later days the ecclesiastical procedure against defamatory speech seems to have been regarded as the usual, if not the only, engine which could be brought to bear upon cases of libel and slander.[35] In England, as in Rome, there was a strong feeling that men should not make charges which they could not prove: before the Conquest a person might lose his tongue, or have to redeem it with his full _wer_, if he brought a false and scandalous accusation; and under Edward I. a statute decreed that if the appellee was acquitted his accuser should lie in prison for a year and pay damages by way of recompense for the imprisonment and infamy which he had brought upon the innocent.[36] [Footnote 26: _Lex Duodecim Tabularum_, viii. 1.] [Footnote 27: _Digesta_, xlvii. 10. 15. 25. _Codex Justinianus_, ix. 36. Hunter, _Exposition of Roman Law_, p. 1069 _sq._ Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 794 _sq._] [Footnote 28: Günther, _Die Idee der Wiedervergeltung_, i. 141 _sqq._ Mommsen, _op. cit._ p. 496 _sq._] [Footnote 29: Wilda, _Strafrecht der Germanen_, p. 776 _sqq._ Nordström, _Bidrag till den svenska samhälls-författningens historia_, ii. 293 _sqq._ Stemann, _Den danske Retshistorie indtil Christian V.'s Lov_, p. 686 _sq._ Brunner, _Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte_, ii. 672 _sqq._] [Footnote 30: _Lex Salica_, xxx. 4, 5, 2; Hessel's edition, col. 181 _sqq._] [Footnote 31: _Ibid._ xv. col. 91 _sqq._] [Footnote 32: _Ibid._ lxvii. 2, col. 403.] [Footnote 33: _Laws of Hlothhaere and Eadric_, 11.] [Footnote 34: Pollock and Maitland, _History of English Law till the Time of Edward I._ ii. 537.] [Footnote 35: _Ibid._ ii. 538. Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, ii. 409.] [Footnote 36: Pollock and Maitland, _op. cit._ ii. 539.] The condemnation of an insult is greatly influenced by the _status_ of, or the relations between, the parties concerned. Among the Goajiro Indians of Colombia a poor man may be insulted with impunity, when the same treatment to a rich man would cause certain bloodshed.[37] In Nias an affront is punished with a fine, which varies according to the rank of the parties.[38] The Chinese penal code lays down that a person who is guilty of addressing abusive language to his or her father or mother, or father's parents, or a wife who rails at her husband's parents or grandparents, shall be strangled;[39] and the same punishment is prescribed for a slave who abuses his master.[40] {143} According to the Laws of Manu, a Kshatriya shall be fined one hundred _panas_ for defaming a Brâhmana, a Vaisya shall be fined one hundred and fifty or two hundred _panas_, and a Sûdra shall suffer corporal punishment; whereas a Brâhmana shall pay only fifty _panas_ for defaming a Kshatriya, twenty-five for defaming a Vaisya, and twelve for defaming a Sûdra.[41] In ancient Teutonic law the fines for insulting behaviour were graduated according to the rank of the person offended.[42] The starting-point of the Roman law was that an _injuria_--which was pre-eminently an affront to the dignity of the person--could not be done to a slave as such, only to the master through the medium of his slave;[43] and even in later times, in the case of trifling injuries, such as mere verbal insults, the master had no action, unless by leave of the Praetor, or unless the insult were meant for the master himself.[44] These and similar variations spring from the same causes as do corresponding variations in the case of other injuries dealt with above. But there are also special reasons why social superiority or inferiority influences moral opinions concerning offences against persons self-regarding pride. The respect due to a man is closely connected with his station, and in the case of defamation the injury suffered by the loss of honour or reputation is naturally proportionate to the esteem in which the offended party is held. At the same time the harmfulness of an insult also depends upon the reputation of the person who offers it. According to the Gotlands Lag, one of the ancient provincial laws of Sweden, a slave can not only be insulted with impunity, but has himself to pay no fine for insulting another person[45]--obviously because he was too degraded a being to be able to detract from anybody's honour or good name. [Footnote 37: Simons, 'Exploration of the Goajira Peninsula,' in _Proceed. Roy. Geo. Soc._ N.S. vii. 786.] [Footnote 38: von Rosenberg, _Der malayische Archipel_, p. 167.] [Footnote 39: _Ta Tsing Leu Lee_, sec. cccxxix. p. 357.] [Footnote 40: _Ibid._ sec. cccxxvii. p. 356.] [Footnote 41: _Laws of Manu_, viii. 267 _sq._ _Cf._ _Gautama_, xii. 8 _sqq._ It is also said that "a once-born man (a Sûdra), who insults a twice-born man with gross invective, shall have his tongue cut out; for he is of low origin" (_ibid._ viii. 270. See also _Institutes of Vishnu_, v. 23; _Gautama_, xii. 1; _Âpastamba_, ii. 10. 27. 14).] [Footnote 42: Keyser, _Efterladte Skrifter_, ii. pt. i. 295.] [Footnote 43: Hunter, _Exposition of Roman Law_, p. 164. Mommsen, _Römisches Strafrecht_, p. 786, n. 3.] [Footnote 44: _Digesta_, xlvii. 10. 15. 35. Hunter, _op. cit._ p. 165.] [Footnote 45: _Gotlands-Lagen_, i. 19. 37.] {144} The condemnation of such conduct as is offensive to other persons' self-regarding pride includes condemnation of pride itself, when displayed in an excessive degree; whereas the opposite disposition--modesty--which implies regard for other people's "self-feeling," is praised as a virtue. The Fijians say of a boasting person, "You are like the _kaka_ (parrot); you only speak to shout your own name."[46] On the other hand, among the Tonga Islanders "a modest opinion of oneself is esteemed a great virtue, and is also put in practice."[47] Confucius taught that humility belongs to the characteristics of a superior man.[48] Such a man, he said, is modest in his speech, though he exceeds in his actions;[49] he has dignified ease without pride, whereas the mean man has pride without a dignified ease;[50] he prefers the concealment of his virtue, when it daily becomes more illustrious, whereas the mean man seeks notoriety when he daily goes more and more to ruin.[51] So also humility has a distinguished place in the teachings of Lao-tsze:--"I have three precious things which I hold fast and prize, namely, compassion, economy, and humility"; "He who knows the glory, and at the same time keeps to shame, will be the whole world's valley . . . , eternal virtue will fill him, and he will return home to Taou."[52] In the Book of the Dead the soul of the ancient Egyptian pleads, "I am not swollen with pride."[53] According to Zoroastrianism, the sin of pride has been created by Ahriman.[54] Overbearingness was censured in ancient Scandinavia,[55] Greece,[56] and Rome. During our prosperity, says Cicero, "we ought with great care to {145} avoid pride and arrogance."[57] The Hebrew prophets condemned not only pride but eminence, because an eminent man is apt to be proud.[58] We read in the Talmud:--"He who humiliates himself will be lifted up; he who raises himself up will be humiliated. Whosoever runs after greatness, greatness runs away from him; he who runs from greatness, greatness follows him."[59] Christianity enjoined humility as a cardinal duty in every man.[60] In the Koran it is said, "God loves not him who is proud, and boastful."[61] Pride has thus come to be stigmatised not only as a vice, but as a sin of great magnitude. One reason for this is that it is regarded as even more offensive to the "self-feeling" of a great god or the Supreme Being than it is to that of a man. But pride must also appear as irreligious arrogance to those who maintain that man is by nature altogether corrupt, and that everything good in him is a gift of God.[62] [Footnote 46: Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 107.] [Footnote 47: Mariner, _op. cit._ ii. 164.] [Footnote 48: _Lun Yü_, v. 15. _Chung Yung_, xxvii. 7.] [Footnote 49: _Lun Yü_, xiv. 29.] [Footnote 50: _Ibid._ xiii. 26. _Cf._ _ibid._ xx. 2. 1.] [Footnote 51: _Chung Yung_, xxxiii. 1.] [Footnote 52: Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 194 _sq._ _Tâo Teh King_, xxviii. 1.] [Footnote 53: _Book of the Dead_, ch. 125, p. 216. _Cf._ Amélineau, _Essai sur l'évolution des idées morales dans l'Égypt Ancienne_, p. 353.] [Footnote 54: _Vendîdâd_, i. 11.] [Footnote 55: Maurer, _Die Bekehrung des Norwegischen Stammes zum Christenthume_, ii. 150.] [Footnote 56: Schmidt, _Die Ethik der alten Griechen_, i. 253. Hermann, _Lehrbuch der Griechischen Antiquitäten_, ii. pt. i. 34 _sq._ Blümner, _Ueber die Idee des Schicksals in den Tragödien des Aischylos_, p. 131.] [Footnote 57: Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 26.] [Footnote 58: _Cf._ Kuenen, _Religion of Israel_, i. 62 _sq._] [Footnote 59: Deutsch, _Literary Remains_, p. 58.] [Footnote 60: _St. Matthew_, v. 11, 12, 39; vi. 25, 26, 30 _sqq._; xviii. 4; &c.] [Footnote 61: _Koran_, iv. 40. _Cf._ Ameer Ali, _Ethics of Islâm_, p. 44.] [Footnote 62: Manzoni, _Osservazioni sulla morale cattolica_, p. 182 _sqq._] At the same time, whilst pride is held blamable, humility may also go too far to be approved of, and may even be an object of censure. In early ethics, as we have noticed above, revenge is enjoined as a duty and forgiveness of enemies is despised; and this is the case not only among savages.[63] The device of Chivalry was, "It is better to die than to be avenged by shame";[64] and side by side with the nominal acceptance of the Christian doctrine of absolute placability the idea still prevails, in many European countries, that an assault upon honour shall be followed by a challenge to mortal combat. Too great humility is regarded as a sign of weakness, cowardice, hypocrisy, or a defective sense of honour. We are not allowed to be indifferent to the estimation in which we are held by our neighbours. Such indifference springs either from a feeble moral constitution and absence of moral shame, or from {146} a depreciation of other people's opinions in comparison with our own, and this is offensive to their _amour-propre_. Outward humility may thus suggest inward pride and appear arrogant. [Footnote 63: _Supra_, i. 73 _sq._] [Footnote 64: Laurent, _Études sur l'histoire de l'Humanité_, vii. 184.] A person's "self-feeling" may be violated in innumerable ways, by words and deeds. Almost any deviation from what is usual may arouse a suspicion of arrogance. This largely accounts for the fact mentioned in a previous chapter that habits have a tendency to become true customs, that is, rules of duty. Transgressions of the established forms of social intercourse are particularly apt to be offensive to people's self-regarding pride. Many of these forms originated in a desire to please, but by becoming habitual they at the same time became obligatory. Politeness is a duty rather than a virtue. There is probably no people on earth which does not recognise some rules of politeness. Many savages are conspicuous for their civility.[65] It has been observed that Christian missionaries working among uncivilised races often are in manners much inferior to those they are teaching, and thus lower the native standard of refinement.[66] The Samoans, we are told, "are a nation of gentlemen," and contrast most favourably with the generality of Europeans who come amongst them.[67] On their first intercourse with Europeans, the Maoris "always manifest a degree of politeness which would do honour to a more civilised people"; but by continued intercourse they lose a great part of this characteristic.[68] Among the Fijians "the rules of politeness are minute, and receive scrupulous attention. They affect the language, and are seen in forms of salutation, in attention to strangers, at meals, in dress, and, indeed, influence their manners in-doors and {147} out. None but the very lowest are ill-behaved, and their confusion on committing themselves shows that they are not impudently so."[69] The Malagasy "are a very polite people, and look with contempt upon those who neglect the ordinary usages and salutations";[70] "even the most ragged and tattered slave possesses a natural dignity and ease of manner, which contrasts favourably with the rude conduct and boorish manners of the lower class at home."[71] Of the Point Barrow Eskimo Mr. Murdoch observes that "many of them show a grace of manner and a natural delicacy and politeness which is quite surprising"; and he mentions the instance of a young Eskimo being so polite in conversing with an American officer that "he would take pains to mispronounce his words in the same way as the latter did, so as not to hurt his feelings by correcting him bluntly."[72] The forms of Kafir politeness "are very strictly adhered to, and are many."[73] Of the Negroes of Fida Bosman wrote, "They are so civil to each other and the inferior so respectful to the superior, that at first I was very much surprised at it."[74] Monrad found the Negroes of Accra surpass many civilised people in politeness.[75] So also in Morocco even country-folks are much more civil in their general behaviour than the large majority of Europeans. "The conversations of the Arabs," says d'Arvieux, "are full of civilities; one never hears anything there that they think rude and unbecoming."[76] Politeness is a characteristic of all the great nations of the East. The Chinese have brought the practice of it "to a pitch of perfection which is not only unknown in Western lands, but, previous to experience, is unthought of and almost unimaginable. The rules of ceremony, we are reminded in the Classics, are three {148} hundred, and the rules of behaviour three thousand."[77] In Europe courtesy was recommended as the most amiable of knightly qualities; and from "the wild and overstrained courtesies of Chivalry" has been derived our present system of manners.[78] [Footnote 65: Waitz-Gerland, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, vi. 143 _sqq._ (Polynesians). Macdonald, _Oceania_, p. 195 (Efatese). Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 157. MacGregor, 'Lagos, Abeokuta and the Alake,' in _Jour. African Soc._ July, 1904, p. 466 (Yorubas).] [Footnote 66: Brenchley, _Jottings during the Cruise of H.M.S. 'Curaçoa' among the South Sea Islands_, p. 349.] [Footnote 67: Hood, _Cruise in H.M.S. 'Fawn' in the Western Pacific_, p. 59 _sq._] [Footnote 68: Dieffenbach, _op. cit._ ii. 108 _sqq._ See also Colenso, _op. cit._ p. 53 _sqq._] [Footnote 69: Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 129. _Cf._ _ibid._ pp. 128, 131 _sq._; Anderson, _Notes of Travel in Fiji_, p. 135.] [Footnote 70: Sibree, _The Great African Island_, p. 325.] [Footnote 71: Little, _Madagascar_, p. 71.] [Footnote 72: Murdoch, 'Ethn. Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 42.] [Footnote 73: Leslie, _Among the Zulus and Amatongas_, p. 203.] [Footnote 74: Bosman, _Description of the Coast of Guinea_, p. 317.] [Footnote 75: Monrad, _Skildring af Guinea-Kysten_, p. 9.] [Footnote 76: d'Arvieux, _Travels in Arabia the Desart_, p. 141.] [Footnote 77: Smith, _Chinese Characteristics_, p. 35.] [Footnote 78: _Ordre of Chyualry_, fol. 46. Robertson, _History of the Reign of Charles V._ i. 84. Milman, _History of Latin Christianity_, iv. 211. Turner, _History of England_, iii. 473. Mills, _History of Chivalry_, i. 161 _sq._ Scott, 'Essay on Chivalry,' in _Miscellaneous Prose Works_, vi. 58.] The rules of politeness and good manners refer to all sorts of social intercourse and vary indefinitely in detail. They tell people how to sit or stand in each other's presence, or how to pass through a door; a Zulu would be fined for going out of a hut back first.[79] They prescribe how to behave at a meal; the Indians of British Columbia consider it improper to talk on such an occasion,[80] and it appears that in England also, in the fifteenth century, "people did not hold conversation while eating, but that the talk and mirth began with the liquor."[81] Politeness demands that a person should never interrupt another while speaking;[82] or that he should avoid contradicting a statement;[83] or, not infrequently, that he should rather tell a pleasant untruth than an unpleasant truth.[84] At times it requires the use of certain phrases, words of thanks, flattery, or expressions of self-humiliation. In Chinese there is "a whole vocabulary of words which are indispensable to one who wishes to pose as a 'polite' person, words in which whatever belongs to the speaker is treated with scorn and contempt, and whatever relates to the person addressed is honourable. The 'polite' Chinese will refer to his wife, if driven to the extremity of referring {149} to her at all, as his 'dull thorn,' or in some similar elegant figure of speech."[85] [Footnote 79: Tyler, _Forty Years among the Zulus_, p. 190 _sq._] [Footnote 80: Woldt, _Kaptein Jacobsens Reiser til Nordamerikas Nordvestkyst_, p. 99.] [Footnote 81: Wright, _Domestic Manners and Sentiments in England during the Middle Ages_, p. 396.] [Footnote 82: Domenech, _Seven Years Residence in the Great Deserts of North America_, ii. 72. Richardson, _Arctic Searching Expedition_, i. 385 (Kutchin). Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 157. Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, ii. 136 _sq._ d'Arvieux, _op. cit._ p. 139 _sq._; Wallin, _Reseanteckningar från Orienten_, iii. 259 (Bedouins).] [Footnote 83: Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 334 _sq._; Cranz, _op. cit._ i. 157 (Greenlanders). Dobrizhofifer, _op. cit._ ii. 137 (Abipones). d'Arvieux, _op. cit._ p. 141 (Bedouins).] [Footnote 84: _Supra_, ii. 111.] [Footnote 85: Smith, _Chinese Characteristics_, p. 274.] Politeness enjoins the performance of certain ceremonies upon persons who meet or part. The custom of salutation is of world-wide prevalence, though there are certain savages who are said to have no greetings except when they have learnt the practice from the whites.[86] As a ceremony prescribed by public opinion it is an obligatory tribute paid to another person's "self-feeling," whatever be the original nature of the act which has been adopted for the purpose. The form of salutation has sometimes been borrowed from questions springing from curiosity or suspicion. Among the Californian Miwok, when anybody meets a stranger he generally salutes him, "Whence do you come? What are you at?"[87] The Abipones "would think it quite contrary to the laws of good-breeding, were they to meet any one and not ask him where he was going";[88] and a similar question is also a very common mode of greeting among the Berbers of Southern Morocco. Very frequently a salutation consists of some phrase which is expressive of goodwill. It may be an inquiry about the other person's health or welfare, as the English "How are you?" "How do you do?" Among the Burmese two relatives or friends who meet begin a conversation by the expressions, "Are you well? I am well," if they have been some time separated; whereas those who are daily accustomed to meet say, "Where are you going?"[89] The Moors ask, "What is your news?" or, "Is nothing wrong?" The ordinary salutation of the Zulus is, "I see you, are you well?" after which the snuffbox, the token of friendship, is passed round.[90] Among several tribes of California, again, a person when greeting another {150} simply utters a word which means "friendship."[91] The goodwill is often directly expressed in the form of a wish, like our "Good day!" "Good night!" Among the Hebrews the salutation at meeting or entering another's house seems at first to have consisted most commonly in an inquiry after mutual welfare,[92] but in later times "Health!" or "Peace to thee!" became the current greeting.[93] According to the Laws of Manu, a Brâhmana should be saluted, "May thou be long-lived, O gentle one!"[94] The Greeks said [Greek: chai=re] ("Be joyful!"); the Romans, _Salve!_ ("Be in health!") especially on meeting, and _Vale!_ ("Be well!") on parting. The good wish may have the form of a prayer. The Moors say, "May God give thee peace!" "May God give thee a good night!" and the English "Good-bye" and the French _Adieu_ are prayers curtailed by the progress of time. But there is no foundation for Professor Wundt's assertion that "the words employed in greeting are one and all prayer formulæ in a more or less rudimentary state."[95] A salutation may, finally, be a verbal profession of subjection, as the Swedish "Ödmjukaste tjänare," that is, (I am your) "most humble servant." [Footnote 86: Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, p. 177. Dall, _op. cit._ p. 397 (Aleuts). Egede, _Description of Greenland_, p. 125; Rink, _Danish Greenland_, p. 223; Cranz, _op. cit._ i. 157 (Greenlanders). Prescott, in Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, iii. 244 (Dacotahs). Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, pp. 230 (Kumi), 256 (Kukis).] [Footnote 87: Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 347.] [Footnote 88: Dobrizhoffer, _op. cit._ ii. 138.] [Footnote 89: Forbes, _British Burma_, p. 69.] [Footnote 90: Tyler, _op. cit._ p. 190.] [Footnote 91: Powers, _op. cit._ p. 58.] [Footnote 92: _Genesis_, xliii. 27. _Exodus_, xviii. 7.] [Footnote 93: _Judges_, xix. 20. _1 Chronicles_, xii. 18. _Cf._ Keil, _Manual of Biblical Archæology_, ii. 183.] [Footnote 94: _Laws of Manu_, ii. 125.] [Footnote 95: Wundt, _Ethik_, p. 179.] Salutations may consist not only in words spoken, but in conventional gestures, either accompanied by some verbal expression or performed silently.[96] They may be tokens of submission or reverence, as cowering, crouching, and bowing. Or they may originally have been signs of disarming or defencelessness, as uncovering some particular portion of the body. Von Jhering suggests that the offering of the hand belongs to the same group of salutations, its object being to indicate that the other person has nothing to fear;[97] but in many cases at least handshaking seems to have the same origin as other ceremonies consisting {151} in bodily contact. Salutatory gestures may express not only absence of evil intentions but positive friendliness; among respectable Moors it is a common mode of greeting that each party places his right hand on his heart to indicate, as Jackson puts it, "that part to be the residence of the friend."[98] Various forms of salutation by contact, such as clasping, embracing, kissing, and sniffing, are obviously direct expressions of affection;[99] and we can hardly doubt that the joining of hands serves a similar object when we find it combined with other tokens of goodwill. Among some of the Australian natives, friends, on meeting after an absence, "will kiss, shake hands, and sometimes cry over one another."[100] In Morocco equals salute each other by joining their hands with a quick motion, separating them immediately, and kissing each his own hand. The Soolimas, again, place the palms of the right hands together, carry them then to the forehead, and from thence to the left side of the chest.[101] But bodily union is also employed as a method of transferring either blessings or conditional curses, and it seems probable that certain salutatory acts have vaguely or distinctly such transference in view. Among the Masai, who spit on each other both when they meet and when they part, spitting "expresses the greatest goodwill and the best of wishes";[102] and in a previous chapter I have endeavoured to show that the object of certain reception ceremonies is to transfer a conditional curse to the stranger who is received as a guest.[103] On the same principle as underlies these ceremonies, handshaking may be a means of joining in compact, analogous to a common meal[104] and the blood-covenant.[105] [Footnote 96: See Tylor, 'Salutations,' in _Encyclopædia Britannica_, xxi. 235 _sqq._; Ling Roth, 'Salutations,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xix. 166 _sqq._] [Footnote 97: von Jhering, _Der Zweck im Recht_, ii. 649 _sqq._] [Footnote 98: Jackson, _Account of Timbuctoo, &c._ p. 235.] [Footnote 99: See _infra_, on the Origin and Development of the Altruistic Sentiment.] [Footnote 100: Hackett, 'Ballardong or Ballerdokking Tribe,' in Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 343.] [Footnote 101: Laing, _Travels in the Timannee, Kooranko, and Soolima Countries_, p. 368.] [Footnote 102: Thomson, _Through Masai Land_, p. 166.] [Footnote 103: _Supra_, i. 590 _sq._] [Footnote 104: _Supra_, i. 587.] [Footnote 105: See _infra_, on the Origin and Development of the Altruistic Sentiment.] Being an homage rendered to other persons self-regarding {152} pride, the rule of politeness is naturally most exacting in relation to superiors. Many of its forms have, in fact, originated in humble or respectful behaviour towards rulers, masters, or elders, and, often in a modified shape, become common between equals after they have lost their original meaning.[106] It has been noticed that the cruelty of despots always engenders politeness, whereas the freest nations are generally the rudest in manners.[107] Politeness is further in a special degree shown by men to women, not only among ourselves, but even among many savages;[108] in this case courtesy is connected with courtship. Strangers or remote acquaintances, also, have particular claims to be treated with civility, whereas politeness is of little moment in the intercourse of friends; it imitates kindness, and is resorted to where the genuine feeling is wanting.[109] And in the capacity of guest, the stranger is often for the time being flattered with exquisite marks of honour, for reasons which have been stated in another connection. [Footnote 106: See Spencer, _Principles of Sociology_, ii. 'Ceremonial Institutions,' _passim_.] [Footnote 107: Johnston, _Uganda_, ii. 685.] [Footnote 108: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur Ethn._ iii. 270. Chanler, _Through Jungle and Desert_, p. 485 (Wakamba). See also _supra_, i. ch. xxvi.] [Footnote 109: _Cf._ Tucker, _Light of Nature_, ii. 599 _sqq._; Joubert, _Pensées_, i. 243.] CHAPTER XXXIII REGARD FOR OTHER PERSONS' HAPPINESS IN GENERAL--GRATITUDE--PATRIOTISM AND COSMOPOLITANISM IN previous chapters we have dealt with moral ideas concerning various modes of conduct which have reference to other men's welfare--to their life or bodily comfort, their liberty, property, knowledge of truth, or self-regarding pride. But the list of duties which we owe to our fellow-creatures is as yet by no means complete. Any act, forbearance, or omission, which in some way or other diminishes or increases their happiness may on that account become a subject of moral blame or praise, being apt to call forth sympathetic retributive emotions. To do good to others is a rule which has been inculcated by all the great teachers of morality. According to Confucius, benevolence is the root of righteousness and a leading characteristic of perfect virtue.[1] In the Taouist 'Book of Secret Blessings' men are enjoined to be compassionate and loving, and to devote their wealth to the good of their fellow-men.[2] The moralists of ancient India teach that we should with our life, means, understanding, and speech, seek to advance the welfare of other creatures in this world; that we should do so without expecting reciprocity; and that we should enjoy the prosperity of others even though ourselves unprosperous.[3] The writers {154} of classical antiquity repeatedly give expression to the idea that man is not born for himself alone, but should assist his fellow-men to the best of his ability.[4] In the Old Testament we meet with the injunction, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself";[5] and this was declared by Christ to be of equal importance with the commandment, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God."[6] [Footnote 1: _Lun Yü_, xvii. 6. Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 108.] [Footnote 2: Douglas, _op. cit._ p. 272 _sq._] [Footnote 3: Muir, _Religious and Moral Sentiments rendered from Sanskrit Writers_, p. 107 _sq._ Monier Williams, _Indian Wisdom_, p. 448.] [Footnote 4: Schmidt, _Die Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 275 _sqq._] [Footnote 5: _Leviticus_, xix. 18.] [Footnote 6: _St. Matthew_, xxii. 39.] To a reflecting mind it is obvious that the moral value of beneficence exclusively lies in the benevolent motive, and that there is nothing praiseworthy in promoting the happiness of others from selfish considerations. Confucius taught that self must be conquered before a man can be perfectly virtuous.[7] According to Lao-tsze, self-abnegation is the cardinal rule for both the sovereign and the people.[8] Self-denial is the chief demand of the Gospel, and is emphasised as a supreme duty by Islam.[9] Generally speaking, the merit attached to a good action is proportionate to the self-denial which it costs the agent. This follows from the nature of moral approval in its capacity of a retributive emotion, as is proved by the fact that the degree of gratitude felt towards a benefactor is in a similar way influenced by the deprivation to which he subjects himself. On the other hand, there is considerable variety of opinion, even among ourselves, as to the dictates of duty, in cases where our own interests conflict with those of our fellow-men. To Professor Sidgwick it is a moral axiom that "I ought not to prefer my own lesser good to the greater good of another."[10] According to Hutcheson, we do not condemn those as evil who will not sacrifice their private interest to the advancement of the positive good of others, "unless the private interest be very small, and the publick good very great."[11] [Footnote 7: _Lun Yü_, xii. i. 1.] [Footnote 8: Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, p. 192.] [Footnote 9: Ameer Ali, _Ethics of Islâm_, p. 32.] [Footnote 10: Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_, p. 383.] [Footnote 11: Hutcheson, _Essay on the Nature and Conduct of the Passions, &c._ p. 312.] The idea that it is bad to cause harm to others and {155} good or obligatory to promote their happiness, is in different ways influenced by the relationship between the parties; and to many cases it does not apply at all. We have previously noticed that according to early ethics an enemy is a proper object of hatred, not of love;[12] and according to more advanced ideas a person who treats us badly has at all events little claim upon our kindness. The very opposite is the case with a benefactor or friend. To requite a benefit, or to be grateful to him who bestows it, is probably everywhere, at least under certain circumstances, regarded as a duty. This is a subject which in the present connection calls for special consideration. [Footnote 12: _Supra_, i. p. 73 _sq._] The duty of gratefulness presupposes a disposition for gratitude.[13] According to travellers' accounts, this feeling is lacking in many uncivilised races.[14] Lyon writes of the Eskimo of Igloolik:--"Gratitude is not only rare, but absolutely unknown amongst them, either by action, word, or look, beyond the first outcry of satisfaction. Nursing their sick, burying the dead, clothing and feeding the whole tribe, furnishing the men with weapons, and the women and children with ornaments, are insufficient to awaken a grateful feeling, and the very people who relieved their distresses when starving are laughed at in time of plenty for the quantity and quality of the food which was bestowed in charity."[15] Various other tribes in {156} North America have been accused of ingratitude;[16] and of some South American savages we are told that they evinced no thankfulness for the presents which were given them.[17] The Fijians are described as utterly indifferent to their benefactors. The Rev. Th. Williams writes:--"If one of them, when sick, obtained medicine from me, he thought me bound to give him food; the reception of food he considered as giving him a claim on me for covering; and, that being secured, he deemed himself at liberty to beg anything he wanted, and abuse me if I refused his unreasonable request."[18] Mr. Lumholtz had a similar experience with regard to the natives of Herbert River, Northern Queensland:--"If you give one thing to a black man, he finds ten other things to ask for, and he is not ashamed to ask for all that you have, and more too. He is never satisfied. Gratitude does not exist in his breast."[19] In several languages there is no word expressive of what we term gratitude or no phrase corresponding to our "thank you";[20] and on this fact much stress has been {157} laid, the deficiency of language being regarded as an indication of a corresponding deficiency in feelings. [Footnote 13: For the definition of gratitude, see _supra_, i. 93.] [Footnote 14: Steller, _Beschreibung von Kamischatka_, p. 292. Bergmann, _Nomadische Streifereien unter den Kalmüken_, ii. 310, 316. Foreman, _Philippine Islands_, p. 183. Modigliani, _Viaggio a Nías_, p. 467. Selenka, _Sonnige Welten_, p. 286 (Malays). Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 207 (Malays of Sumatra). Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 320 (natives of Timor-laut). Mrs. Forbes, _Insulinde_, p. 178 (natives of Ritabel). Hagen, _Unter den Papua's_, p. 266 (Papuans of Bogadjim). Romilly, _Western Pacific and New Guinea_, p. 239. La Pérouse, _Voyage round the World_, ii. 109 (Samoans). Colenso, _Maori Races of New Zealand_, p. 48; Dieffenbach, _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 110. Ling Roth, _Aborigines of Tasmania_, p. 63. Gason, 'Manners and Customs of the Dieyerie Tribe,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 258. Baker, _Albert N'yanza_, i. 242 (Latukas), 289 (Negroes), von François, _Nama und Damara_, p. 191 (Herero).] [Footnote 15: Lyon, _Private Journal during the Voyage of Discovery under Captain Parry_, p. 348 _sq._ See also Parry, _Journal of a Second Voyage for the Discovery of a North-West Passage_, p. 524 _sq._] [Footnote 16: Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 174. Sarytschew, 'Voyage of Discovery to the North-East of Siberia,' in _Collection of Modern Voyages_, vi. 78 (Aleuts). Harmon, _Voyages and Travels in the Interior of North America_, p. 291 (Tacullies). Heriot, _Travels through the Canadas_, p. 319. Lafitau, _M[oe]urs des sauvages ameriquains_, i. 106. Burton, _City of the Saints_, p. 125 (Sioux and prairie tribes generally).] [Footnote 17: von Spix and von Martius, _Travels in Brazil_, ii. 228, 241 _sq._ (Coroados). Stokes, quoted by King and Fitzroy, _Voyages of the 'Adventure' and 'Beagle,'_ i. 77 (Fuegians).] [Footnote 18: Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, p. 111. See also Anderson, _Notes of Travel in Fiji and New Caledonia_, pp. 124, 131.] [Footnote 19: Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 100.] [Footnote 20: Southey, _History of Brazil_, iii. 399 (Abipones, Guaranies). Hearne, _Journey to the Northern Ocean_, p. 307 (Northern Indians). Lewin, _Wild Races of South-Eastern India_, p. 192 (Toungtha). Foreman, _op. cit._ p. 182 _sq._ (Bisayans). Modigliani, _Viaggio a Nías_, p. 467. Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, i. 74 (Dyaks). Chalmers, _Pioneering in New Guinea_, p. 187; Romilly, _Western Pacific and New Guinea_, p. 239 _sq._ (However, Mr Romilly's statement that "in all the known New Guinea languages there is not even a word for 'thank you,'" is not quite correct, as appears from Chalmers _op. cit._ p. 187.) Wilson, _Missionary Voyage to the Southern Pacific Ocean_, p. 365; Waitz-Gerland, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, vi. 116 (Tahitians). Colenso, _op. cit._ p. 48 (Maoris). New, _Life and Labours in Eastern Africa_, p. 100 (Wanika). von François, _op. cit._ p. 191 (Herero). In the Vedic language, also, there was no word for "thanks" (Oldenberg, _Die Religion des Veda_, p. 305); and many Eastern languages of the present day lack an equivalent for "thank you" (Ward, _View of the History, &c. of the Hindoos_, ii. 81, n. _a_.; Pool, _Studies in Muhammedanism_, p. 176; Polak, _Persien_, i. 9). When one of the missionaries in India was engaged in the translation of the Scriptures into Bengali, he found no common word in that language suitable to express the idea of gratitude (Wilkins, _Modern Hinduism_, p. 397).] Here again we must distinguish between a traveller's actual experience and the conclusions which he draws from it; and it seems that in many cases our authorities have been too ready to charge savages with a total lack of grateful feelings, because they have been wanting in gratitude on certain occasions. It is too much to expect that a savage should show himself thankful to any stranger who gives him a present. Speaking of the Ahts of British Columbia, Mr Sproat remarks that the Indian's suspicion prevents a ready gratitude, as he is prone to see, in apparent kindness extended to him, some under-current of selfish motive. "He is accustomed, among his own people, to gifts made for purposes of guile, and also to presents made merely to show the greatness and richness of the giver; but, I imagine," our author adds, "when the Aht ceases to suspect such motives--when he does not detect pride, craft, or carelessness--he is grateful, and probably grateful in proportion to the trouble taken to serve him."[21] As for the ingratitude of the Northern Queensland natives, Mr. Lumholtz himself admits that "they assume that the gift is bestowed out of fear";[22] and of the New Zealanders we are told that their total want of gratitude was particularly due to the fact that "no New Zealander ever did any kindness, or gave anything, to another, without mainly having an eye to himself in the transaction."[23] Moreover, gratitude often requires not only the absence of a selfish motive in the benefactor, but some degree of self-sacrifice. "A person," says Mr. Sproat, "may keep an Indian from starving all the winter through, yet, when summer comes, very likely he will not walk a yard for his preserver without payment. The savage does not, in this instance, {158} recognise any obligation; but thinks that a person who had so much more than he could himself consume might well, and without any claim for after services, part with some of it for the advantage of another in want."[24] Mr. Powers makes a similar observation with reference to the aborigines of California:--"White men," he says, "who have had dealings with Indians, in conversation with me have often bitterly accused them of ingratitude. 'Do everything in your power for an Indian,' they say, 'and he will accept it all as a matter of course; but for the slightest service you require of him he will demand pay.' These men do not enter into the Indian's ideas. This 'ingratitude' is really an unconscious compliment to our power. The savage feels, vaguely, the unapproachable elevation on which the American stands above him. He feels that we had much and he had little, and we took away from him even his little. In his view giving does not impoverish us, nor withholding enrich us. Gratitude is a sentiment not in place between master and slave; it is a sentiment for equals. The Indians are grateful to one another."[25] Nor are men very apt to feel grateful for benefits to which they consider themselves to have a right. Thus, according to Mr. Howitt, the want of gratitude among the South Australian Kurnai for kindnesses shown them by the whites is due to the principle of community, which is so strong a feature of the domestic and social life of these aborigines. "For a supply of food, or for nursing when sick, the Kurnai would not feel grateful to his family group. There would be a common obligation upon all to share food, and to afford personal aid and succour. This principle would also come into play as regards the simple personal property they possess, and would extend to the before-unknown articles procured from the whites. The food, the clothes, the medical attendance which the Kurnai receive from the whites, they take in the accustomed manner; and, in addition to {159} this, we must remember that the donors are regarded as having unlimited resources. They cannot be supposed by the Kurnai to be doing anything but giving out of their abundance."[26] Mr. Guppy found the same principle at work among the Solomon Islanders:--"Often when during my excursions I have come upon some man who was preparing a meal for himself and his family, I have been surprised at the open-handed way in which he dispensed the food to my party of hungry natives. No gratitude was shown towards the giver, who apparently expected none."[27] It has also been observed that the want of gratitude with which Arabs have often been charged by Europeans has arisen "from the very common practice of hospitality and generosity, and from the prevailing opinion that these virtues are absolute duties which it would be disgraceful and sinful to neglect."[28] [Footnote 21: Sproat, _Scenes and Studies of Savage Life_, p. 165 _sq._] [Footnote 22: Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 159.] [Footnote 23: Colenso, _op. cit._ p. 48.] [Footnote 24: Sproat, _op. cit._ p. 165 _sq._] [Footnote 25: Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 411.] [Footnote 26: Fison and Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 257.] [Footnote 27: Guppy, _Solomon Islands_, p. 127.] [Footnote 28: Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 298. See also Burton, _Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah and Meccah_, i. 51.] We should further remember that savages often take care not to display their emotions. Among the Melanesians, according to Dr. Codrington, "it is not the custom to say anything by way of thanks; it is rather improper to show emotion when anything is given, or when friends meet again; silence with the eyes cast down is the sign of the inward trembling or shyness which they feel, or think they ought to feel, under these circumstances. There is no lack of a word which may be fairly translated 'thank'; and certainly no one who has given cause for it will say that Melanesians have no gratitude; others probably are ready enough to say it."[29] Of the North American Chippewas Major Strickland writes:--"If an Indian makes a present, it is always expected that one equally valuable should be given in return. No matter what you give them, or how valuable or rich the present, they seldom betray the least emotion or appearance of gratitude, it being considered beneath the dignity of a red man to betray his feelings. For all this seeming indifference, {160} they are in reality as grateful, and, I believe, even more so than our own peasantry."[30] The Aleuts also, although they are chary of expressions of thanks, "do not forget kindness, and endeavour to express their thankfulness by deeds. If anyone assists an Aleut, and afterwards offends him, he does not forget the former favour, and in his mind it often cancels the offence."[31] From the want of a word for a feeling we must not conclude that the feeling itself is wanting. Mr. Sproat observes:--"The Ahts have, it is true, no word for gratitude, but a defect in language does not absolutely imply defect in heart; and the Indian who, in return for a benefit received, says, with glistening eyes, that his heart is good towards his benefactor, expresses his gratitude quite as well perhaps as the English man who says 'Thank you.'"[32] [Footnote 29: Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 354.] [Footnote 30: Strickland, _Twenty-seven Years in Canada West_, ii. 58.] [Footnote 31: Veniaminof, quoted by Dall, _Alaska_, p. 395.] [Footnote 32: Sproat, _op. cit._ p. 165. See also Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, i. 74 (Dyaks).] It is not surprising, then, that in various cases a people which to one traveller appears to be quite destitute of gratitude is by another described as being by no means lacking in this feeling;[33] and sometimes contradictory statements are made even by the same writer. Thus Mr. Lumholtz, who gives such a gloomy picture of the character of the Northern Queensland natives, nevertheless tells us of a native who, though himself very hungry, threw the animals which the traveller had shot for him to an old man--his wife's uncle--whom they met, in order to give some proof of the gratitude he owed the person from whom he had received his wife;[34] and regarding the Fijians Mr. Williams himself states that thanks for presents "are always expressed aloud, and generally with a kind wish for the giver."[35] As we have noticed before, retributive kindly emotions, of which gratitude is only the most developed form, are commonly found among gregarious animals, social affection being not only a friendly {161} sentiment towards another individual, but towards an individual who is conceived of as a friend.[36] And it is all the more difficult to believe in the absolute want of gratitude in some savage races, as the majority of them--to judge from my collection of facts--are expressly acquitted of such a defect, and several are described as remarkably grateful for benefits bestowed upon them. [Footnote 33: _E.g._, the Fuegians, Sioux, Ahts, Aleuts, Kamchadales, Tasmanians, Zulus (see _supra_ and _infra_).] [Footnote 34: Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p. 221.] [Footnote 35: Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 132.] [Footnote 36: _Supra_, i. 94.] The Fuegians use the word _chapakouta_, which means glad, satisfied, affectionate, grateful, to express thanks.[37] Jemmy Button, the young Fuegian who was brought to England on board the _Beagle_, gave proofs of sincere gratitude;[38] and Admiral Fitzroy also mentions a Patagonian boy who appeared thankful for kindness shown to him.[39] Of the Mapuchés of Chili Mr. E. R. Smith observes:--"Whatever present is made, or favour conferred, is considered as something to be returned; and the Indian never fails, though months and years may intervene, to repay what he conscientiously thinks an exact equivalent for the thing received."[40] The Botocudos do not readily forget kind treatment;[41] and the Tupis "were a grateful race, and remembered that they had received gifts, after the giver had forgotten it."[42] The Guiana Indians "are grateful for any kindness."[43] The Navahos of New Mexico have a word for thanks, and employ it on all occasions which we would consider appropriate.[44] The Sioux "evinced the warmest gratitude to any who had ever displayed kind feelings towards them."[45] In his 'Voyages from Montreal to the Frozen and Pacific Oceans,' Mackenzie mentions the gratitude shown him by a young Indian whom he had cured of a bad wound. When well enough to engage in a hunting party, the young man brought to his physician the tongue of an elk, and when they parted both he and his relatives expressed the heartiest acknowledgment for the care bestowed on him.[46] If an Aleut receives a gift he accepts it, saying _Akh!_ which means "thanks."[47] Some of the Point Barrow Eskimo visited by Mr. Murdoch "seem to feel truly {162} grateful for the benefits and gifts received, and endeavoured by their general behaviour, as well as in more substantial ways, to make some adequate return"; whereas others appeared to think only of what they might receive.[48] [Footnote 37: Hyades and Deniker, _Mission scientifique du Cap Horn_, vii. 314.] [Footnote 38: King and Fitzroy, _op. cit._ ii. 327.] [Footnote 39: _Ibid._ ii. 173.] [Footnote 40: Smith, _Araucanians_, p. 258.] [Footnote 41: Wied-Neuwied, _Reise nach Brasilien_, ii. 16.] [Footnote 42: Southey, _op. cit._ i. 247.] [Footnote 43: Im Thurn, _Among the Indians of Guiana_, p. 213.] [Footnote 44: Matthews, 'Study of Ethics among the Lower Races,' in _Journal of American Folk-Lore_, xii. 9.] [Footnote 45: Eastman, _Dacotah_, p. ix.] [Footnote 46: Mackenzie, _Voyages from Montreal to the Frozen and Pacific Oceans_, p. 137 _sq._] [Footnote 47: Veniaminof, quoted by Dall, _op. cit._ p. 395.] [Footnote 48: Murdoch, 'Ethnol. Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 42. See also Seemann, _Voyage of 'Herald,'_ ii. 67 (Western Eskimo).] Of the Tunguses it is said, "If you make them a present, they hardly thank you; but though so unpolite, they are exceedingly grateful."[49] The Jakuts never forget a benefit received; "for they not only make restitution, but recommend to their offspring the ties of friendship and gratitude to their benefactors."[50] The Veddah of Ceylon is described as very grateful for attention or assistance.[51] "A little kindly sympathy makes him an attached friend, and for his friend . . . . he will readily give his life."[52] Mr. Bennett once had an interview with two village Veddahs, and on that occasion gave them presents. Two months after a couple of elephant's tusks found their way into his front verandah at night, but the Veddahs who had brought them never gave him an opportunity to reward them. "What a lesson in gratitude and delicacy," he exclaims, "even a Veddah may teach!"[53] [Footnote 49: Georgi, _Russia_, iii. 111.] [Footnote 50: Sauer, _Expedition to the Northern Parts of Russia, performed by Billings_, p. 124.] [Footnote 51: Tennent, _Ceylon_, ii. 445. Sarasin, _Forschungen auf Ceylon_, iii. 546.] [Footnote 52: Nevill, 'Vaeddas of Ceylon,' in _Taprobanian_, i. 192.] [Footnote 53: Pridham, _Account of Ceylon_, i. 460 _sq._] The Alfura of Halmahera,[54] the Bataks of Sumatra,[55] and the Dyaks of Borneo[56] are praised for their grateful disposition of mind. Of the Hill Dyaks Mr. Low observes that gratitude "eminently adorns the character of these simple people, and the smallest benefit conferred upon them calls forth its vigorous and continued exercise."[57] The Motu people of New Guinea are "capable of appreciating kindness,"[58] and have words for expressing thanks.[59] Chamisso speaks highly of the gratitude evinced by the natives of Ulea, Caroline Islands:--"Any thing, a useful instrument, for example, which they have received as a gift from a friend, retains and bears among them as a lasting memorial the name of the friend who bestowed it."[60] When Professor Moseley at Dentrecasteaux Island, of the Admiralty Group, gave a hatchet as pay to his guide, according {163} to promise, the guide seemed grateful, and presented him with his own shell adze in return.[61] Though the Tahitians never return thanks nor seem to have a word in their language expressive of gratitude, they are not devoid of the feeling itself.[62] Backhouse tells us of a Tasmanian native who, having been nursed through an illness, showed many demonstrations of gratitude; and he adds that this virtue was often exhibited among these people--a statement which is corroborated by the accounts of other travellers.[63] Of the Australian aborigines Mr. Ridley writes:--"I believe they are as a people remarkably susceptible of impressions from kind treatment. They recognised me as one who sought their good, and were evidently pleased and thankful to see that I thought them worth looking after."[64] The Adelaide and Encounter Bay blacks are said to display attachment to persons who are kind to them.[65] Speaking of the Central Australian tribes, Messrs. Spencer and Gillen observe that, though they are not in the habit of showing anything like excessive gratitude on receiving gifts from the white man, they are in reality by no means incapable of that feeling;[66] and other writers report instances of gratitude displayed by natives of West Australia[67] and Queensland.[68] [Footnote 54: Kükenthal, _Forschungsreise in den Molukken und Borneo_, i. 188.] [Footnote 55: Junghuhn, _Die Battaländer auf Sumatra_, ii. 239.] [Footnote 56: Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, i. 74, 76.] [Footnote 57: Low, _Sarawak_, p. 246.] [Footnote 58: Stone, _A Few Months in New Guinea_, p. 95.] [Footnote 59: Chalmers, _Pioneering in New Guinea_, p. 187.] [Footnote 60: von Kotzebue, _Voyage of Discovery into the South Sea_, iii. 214.] [Footnote 61: Moseley, 'Inhabitants of the Admiralty Islands,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ vi. 416.] [Footnote 62: Waitz-Gerland, _op. cit._ vi. 116.] [Footnote 63: Ling Roth, _Aborigines of Tasmania_, pp. 47, 62, 64.] [Footnote 64: Ridley, _Aborigines of Australia_, p. 24. See also _ibid._ p. 20 _sqq._] [Footnote 65: Wyatt, 'Manners and Superstitions of the Adelaide and Encounter Bay Aboriginal Tribes,' in Woods, _Native Tribes of South Australia_, p. 162.] [Footnote 66: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 48 _sqq._] [Footnote 67: Salvado, _Mémoires historiques sur l'Australie_, p. 146.] [Footnote 68: Fraser, _Aborigines of New South Wales_, p. 44.] Concerning the people of Madagascar the missionary Ellis writes:--"Whether the noble and generous feeling of gratitude has much place amongst the Malagasy has been questioned. Though often characterised by extreme apathy, they are certainly susceptible of tenderness of feeling, and their customs furnish various modes of testifying their sense of any acts of kindness shewn them, and their language contains many forms of speech expressive of thankfulness. The following are among those in most general use: 'May you live to grow old--may you live long--may you live sacred--may you see, or obtain, justice from the sovereign.'" Moreover, with all their expressions of thankfulness, considerable action is used: sometimes the two hands are extended open as if to make a present; or the party stoops down to the ground, and clasps the legs, or touches the knee and the feet of the person he is thanking.[69] Ingratitude, {164} again, is expressed by many strong metaphors, such as "son of a thunderbolt," or "offspring of a wild boar."[70] The Bushmans, according to Burchell, are not incapable of gratitude.[71] The statement made by certain travellers or colonists that the Zulus are devoid of this feeling, is contradicted by Mr. Tyler, who asserts that "many instances might be related in which a thankful spirit has been manifested, and gifts bestowed for favours received."[72] The Basutos have words to express gratitude.[73] Among the Bakongo, says Mr. Ward, "evidences of gratitude are rare indeed, although occasionally one meets with this sentiment in odd guises. Once, by a happy chance, I saved a baby's life. The child was brought to me by its mother in convulsions, and I was fortunate enough to find in my medicine chest a drug that effected an almost immediate cure. Yet the service I rendered to this woman, instead of meeting with any appreciation, only procured for me the whispered reputation of being a witch." But twenty months afterwards, at midnight when all the people were sleeping, the same woman came to Mr. Ward and gave him some fowl's eggs in payment. "I come," she said, "in the darkness that my people may not know, for they would jeer at me if they knew of this gift."[74] A traveller tells us that the inhabitants of Great Benin "if given any trifles expressed their thanks."[75] Writing on the natives of Accra, Monrad states that gratitude is among the virtues of the Negroes, and induces them even to give their lives in return for benefits conferred on them.[76] The Feloops, bordering on the Gambia, "display the utmost gratitude and affection towards their benefactors."[77] As regards the Eastern Central Africans, Mr. Macdonald affirms without any hesitation that they have gratitude, "even though we define gratitude as being much more than an 'acute sense of favours to come.'"[78] The Masai and Wadshagga have "a curious habit of spitting on things or people as a compliment or sign of gratitude"[79]--originally, I presume, with a view to transferring to them a blessing. The Barea are said to be thankful for benefits.[80] According to Palgrave, "gratitude is no {165} less an Arab than a European virtue, whatever the ignorance or the prejudices of some foreigners may have affirmed to the contrary";[81] and Burckhardt says that an Arab never forgets the generosity shown to him even by an enemy.[82] [Footnote 69: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 258. See also Rochon, _Voyage to Madagascar_, p. 56.] [Footnote 70: Ellis, _op. cit._ i. 139 _sq._] [Footnote 71: Burchell, _Travels in the Interior of Southern Africa_, ii. 68, 86, 447.] [Footnote 72: Tyler, _Forty Years among the Zulus_, p. 194.] [Footnote 73: Casalis, _Basutos_, p. 306.] [Footnote 74: Ward, _Five Years with the Congo Cannibals_, p. 47 _sqq._] [Footnote 75: Punch, quoted by Ling Roth, _Great Benin_, p. 45.] [Footnote 76: Monrad, _Skildring af Guinea-Kysten_, p. 8.] [Footnote 77: Mungo Park, _Travels in the Interior of Africa_, p. 14.] [Footnote 78: Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 10.] [Footnote 79: Johnston, _Kilima-njaro Expedition_, p. 438.] [Footnote 80: Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 533.] [Footnote 81: Palgrave, quoted in Spencer's _Descriptive Sociology_, 'Asiatic Races,' p. 31.] [Footnote 82: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 105.] In other statements gratitude is directly represented as an object of praise, or its absence as an object of disapproval. Among the Atkha Aleuts, according to Father Yakof, gratitude to benefactors was considered a virtue.[83] Among the Omahas, if a man receives a favour and does not manifest his thankfulness, the people exclaim:--"He does not appreciate the gift! He has no manners."[84] The Kamchadales "are not only grateful for favours, but they think it absolutely necessary to make some return for a present."[85] The Chinese say that "kindness is more binding than a loan."[86] According to the 'Divine Panorama,' a well-known Taouist work, those who forget kindness and are guilty of ingratitude shall be tormented after death and "shall not escape one jot of their punishments."[87] In one of the Pahlavi texts gratitude is represented as a means of arriving at heaven, whilst ingratitude is stigmatised as a heinous sin;[88] and according to Ammian ungrateful persons were even punished by law in ancient Persia.[89] The same, we are told, was the case in Macedonia.[90] The duty of gratitude was strongly inculcated by Greek and Roman moralists.[91] Aristotle observes that we ought, as a general rule, rather to return a kindness to our benefactor than to confer a gratuitous favour upon a brother in arms, just as we ought rather to repay a loan to a creditor than to spend the same sum upon a present to a friend.[92] According to {166} Xenophon the requital of benefits is enjoined by a divine law.[93] "There is no duty more indispensable than that of returning a kindness," says Cicero; "all men detest one forgetful of a benefit."[94] Seneca calls ingratitude a most odious vice, which it is difficult to punish by law, but which we refer for judgment to the gods.[95] The ancient Scandinavians considered it dishonourable for a man to kill even an enemy in blood-revenge if he had received a benefit from him.[96] [Footnote 83: Yakof, quoted by Petroff, _Report on the Population, &c. of Alaska_, p. 158.] [Footnote 84: Dorsey, 'Omaha Sociology,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ iii. 270.] [Footnote 85: Dobell, _Travels in Kamtschatka_, i. 75.] [Footnote 86: Davis, _China_, ii. 123.] [Footnote 87: Giles, _Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio_, ii. 374 _sq._ See also _Thâi-Shang_, 4.] [Footnote 88: _Dînâ-î Maînôg-î Khirad_, xxxvi. 28; xxxvii. 6; xliii. 9.] [Footnote 89: Ammianus Marcellinus, xxiii. 6. 81.] [Footnote 90: Seneca, _De beneficiis_, iii. 6. 2.] [Footnote 91: See Schmidt, _Die Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 305 _sqq._] [Footnote 92: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, x. 2. 3.] [Footnote 93: Xenophon, _Memorabilia_, iv. 4. 24.] [Footnote 94: Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 15 (47); ii. 18 (63).] [Footnote 95: Seneca, _De beneficiis_, iii. 6. 1 _sq._] [Footnote 96: Maurer, _Die Bekehrung des Norwegischen Stammes_, ii. 174.] We may assume that among beings capable of feeling moral emotions the general disposition to be kind to a benefactor will inevitably lead to the notion that ungrateful behaviour is wrong. Such behaviour is offensive to the benefactor; as Spinoza observes, "he who has conferred a benefit on anyone from motives of love or honour will feel pain, if he sees that the benefit is received without gratitude."[97] This by itself tends to evoke in the bystander sympathetic resentment towards the offender; but his resentment is much increased by the retributive kindliness which he is apt to feel, sympathetically, towards the benefactor. He wants to see the latter's kindness rewarded; and he is shocked by the absence of a similar desire in the very person who may be naturally expected to feel it more strongly than anybody else**. [Footnote 97: Spinoza, _Ethica_, iii. 42. A Japanese proverb says that "thankless labour brings fatigue" (Reed, _Japan_, ii. 109).] The moral ideas concerning conduct which affects other persons' welfare vary according as the parties are members of the same or different families, or of the same or different communities. For reasons which have been stated in previous chapters parents have in this respect special duties towards their children, and children towards their parents; and a tribesman or a fellow-countryman has claims which are not shared by a foreigner. But there are duties not only to particular individuals, but also to {167} whole social aggregates. Foremost among these is the duty of patriotism. The duty of patriotism is rooted in the patriotic sentiment, in a person's love of the social body of which he is himself a member, and which is attached to the territory he calls his country. It involves a desire to promote its welfare, a wish that it may prosper for the time being and for all future. This desire is the outcome of a variety of sentiments: of men's affection for the people among whom they live, of attachment to the places where they have grown up or spent part of their lives, of devotion to their race and language, and to the traditions, customs, laws, and institutions of the society in which they were born and to which they belong. Genuine patriotism presupposes a power of abstraction which the lower savages can hardly be supposed to possess. But it seems to be far from unknown among uncultured peoples of a higher type. North American Indians are praised for their truly patriotic spirit, for their strong attachment to their tribe and their country.[98] Carver says of the Naudowessies:--"The honour of their tribe, and the welfare of their nation, is the first and most predominant emotion of their hearts; and from hence proceed in a great measure all their virtues and their vices. Actuated by this, they brave every danger, endure the most exquisite torments, and expire triumphing in their fortitude, not as a personal qualification, but as a national characteristic."[99] Patriotism and public spirit were often strongly manifested by the Tahitians.[100] The Maori "loves his country and the rights of his ancestors, and he will fight for his children's land."[101] Of the Guanches of Teneriffe we are told that patriotism was {168} their chief virtue.[102] The same quality distinguishes the Yorubas of West Africa; "no race of men," says Mr. MacGregor, "could be more devoted to their country."[103] Burckhardt writes:--"As to the attachment which a Bedouin entertains for his own tribe, the deep-felt interest he takes in its power and fame, and the sacrifices of every kind he is ready to make for its prosperity--these are feelings rarely operating with equal force in any other nation; and it is with an exulting pride of conscious patriotism, not inferior to any which ennobled the history of Grecian or Helvetian republics, that an Aeneze, should he be suddenly attacked, seizes his lance, and waving it over his head exclaims, 'I am an Aeneze.'"[104] [Footnote 98: Adair, _History of the American Indians_, p. 378 _sq._ Heriot, _Travels through the Canadas_, p. 317. Loskiel, _History of the Mission of the United Brethren among the Indians_, i. 17 (Iroquois).] [Footnote 99: Carver, _Travels through the Interior Parts of North America_, p. 412.] [Footnote 100: Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 128.] [Footnote 101: Angas, _Savage Life and Scenes in Australia and New Zealand_, i. 338. See also Travers, 'Life and Times of Te Rauparaha,' in _Trans. and Proceed. New Zealand Institute_, v. 22.] [Footnote 102: Bory de St. Vincent, _Essais sur les Isles Fortunées_, p. 70.] [Footnote 103: MacGregor, 'Lagos, Abeokuta, and the Alake,' in _Jour. African Soc._ 1904, p. 466.] [Footnote 104: Burckhardt, _Notes on the Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 205.] Many of the elements out of which patriotism proper has grown are clearly distinguishable among savages, even the very lowest. We have previously noticed the savage's attachment to members of his own community or tribe. Combined with this is his love of his native place, and of the mode of life to which he is habituated. There is a touching illustration of this feeling in the behaviour of the wild boy who had been found in the woods near Aveyron--where he had spent most part of his young life in perfect isolation from all human beings--when he, after being removed to Paris, was once taken back to the country, to the vale of Montmorence. Joy was painted in his eyes, in all the motions and postures of his body, at the view of the hills and the woods of the charming valley; he appeared more than ever restless and savage, and "in spite of the most assiduous attention that was paid to his wishes, and the most affectionate regard that was expressed for him, he seemed to be occupied only with an anxious desire of taking his flight."[105] How much greater must not the love of home be in him who has there his relatives and friends! Mr. Howitt tells us of {169} an Australian native who, on leaving his camp with him for a trip of about a week, burst into tears, saying to himself once and again, "My country, my people, I shall not see them."[106] The Veddahs of Ceylon "would exchange their wild forest life for none other, and it was with the utmost difficulty that they could be induced to quit even for a short time their favourite solitude."[107] The Stiêns of Cambodia are so strongly attached to their forests and mountains that to leave them seems almost like death.[108] Solomon Islanders not seldom die from home-sickness on their way to the Fiji or Queensland plantations.[109] The Hovas of Madagascar, when setting out on a journey, often take with them a small portion of their native earth, on which they gaze during their absence, invoking their god that they may be permitted to return to restore it to the place from which it was taken.[110] Mr. Crawfurd observes that in the Malay Archipelago the attachment to the native spot is strongest with the agricultural tribes;[111] but, though a settled life is naturally most favourable to its development, this feeling is not inconsistent with nomadism. The Nishinam, who are the most nomadic of all the Californian tribes, have very great attachment for the valley or flat which they count their home.[112] [Footnote 105: Itard, _Account of the Discovery and Education of a Savage Man_, p. 70 _sqq._] [Footnote 106: Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, ii. 305.] [Footnote 107: Hartshorne, 'Weddas,' in _Indian Antiquary_, viii. 317.] [Footnote 108: Mouhot, _Travels in the Central Parts of Indo-China_, i. 243.] [Footnote 109: Guppy, _op. cit._ p. 167.] [Footnote 110: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 141.] [Footnote 111: Crawfurd, _History of the Indian Archipelago_, i. 84.] [Footnote 112: Powers, _op. cit._ p. 318 _sq._ For other instances of love of home among uncivilised races see von Spix and von Martius, _op. cit._ ii. 242, note (Coroados); von Kotzebue, _op. cit._ iii. 45 (Indians of California); Gibbs, _Tribes of Western Washington and North-Western Oregon_, p. 187; Elliott, _Report of the Seal Islands of Alaska_, p. 240; Hooper, _Ten Months among the Tents of the Tuski_, p. 209; von Siebold, _Aino auf der Insel Yesso_, p. 11; Mallat, _Les Philippines_, ii. 95 (Negritos); von Brenner, _Besuch bei den Kannibalen Sumatras_, p. 194 (Bataks); Earl, _Papuans_, p. 126 (natives of Rotti, near Timor); Ling Roth, _Aborigines of Tasmania_, p. 46; Dieffenbach, _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 174; Cumming, _In the Himalayas_, p. 404 (Paharis); Lane, _Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians_, p. 302 (Bedawees); Tristram, _Great Sahara_, p. 193 _sq._ (Beni M'zab); Burton, _Zanzibar_, ii. 96 (Wanika); _Emin Pasha in Central Africa_, p. 315 (Monbuttu); Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 198 (Ovambo); Rowley, _Africa Unveiled_, p. 63 _sq._ (Kroos of the Grain Coast below Liberia); Price, 'Quissama Tribe,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ i. 187.] {170} Moreover, as we have noticed above, savages have the greatest regard for their native customs and institutions.[113] Many of them have displayed that love of national independence which gives to patriotism its highest fervour.[114] And among some uncivilised peoples, at least, the force of racial and linguistic unity shows itself even outside the social or political unit. Burckhardt observes that the Bedouins are not only solicitous for the honour of their own respective tribes, but consider the interests of all other tribes as more or less attached to their own, and frequently evince a general _esprit de corps_, lamenting "the losses of any of their tribes occasioned by attacks from settlers or foreign troops, even though at war with those tribes."[115] A Tongan "loves the island on which he was born, in particular, and all the Tonga islands generally, as being one country, and speaking one language."[116] Travellers have noticed how gratifying it is, when visiting an uncultured people, to know a little of their language; there is at once a sympathetic link between the native and the stranger.[117] Even the almost inaccessible Berber of the Great Atlas, in spite of his excessive hatred of the European, will at once give you a kindly glance as soon as you, to his astonishment, utter to him a few words in his own tongue. [Footnote 113: See _supra_, i. 118 _sq._] [Footnote 114: _Cf._ Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, ii. 95, 105; Lomonaco, 'Sulle razze indigene del Brasile,' in _Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia_, xix. 57 (Tupis); Brett, _Indian Tribes of Guiana_, p. 348; Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_, iii. 189 (Iroquois); Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 323 (Greenlanders); Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 81 (Kandhs); Sarasin, _op. cit._ iii. 530 (Veddahs); Casati, _Ten Years in Equatoria_, i. 188, 304 (Negroes of Central Africa); Fritsch, _Die Eingeborenen Süd-Afrika's_, p. 422 _sq._ (Bushmans).] [Footnote 115: Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 205.] [Footnote 116: Mariner, _Natives of the Tonga Islands_, ii. 156.] [Footnote 117: See Stokes, _Discoveries in Australia_, ii. 25.] Like other species of the altruistic sentiment, patriotism is apt to overestimate the qualities of the object for which it is felt; and it does so all the more readily as love of one's country is almost inseparably intermingled with love of one's self. The ordinary, typical patriot has a strong will to believe that his nation is the best. If, as many {171} people nowadays seem to maintain, such a will to believe is an essential characteristic of true patriotism, savages are as good patriots as anybody. In their intercourse with white men they have often with astonishment noticed the arrogant air of superiority adopted by the latter; in their own opinion they are themselves vastly superior to the whites. According to Eskimo beliefs, the first man, though made by the Great Being, was a failure, and was consequently cast aside and called _kob-lu-na_, which means "white man"; but a second attempt of the Great Being resulted in the formation of a perfect man, and he was called _in-nu_, the name which the Eskimo give to themselves.[118] Australian natives, on being asked to work, have often replied, "White fellow works, not black fellow; black fellow gentleman."[119] When anything foolish is done, the Chippewas use an expression which means "as stupid as a white man."[120] If a South Sea Islander sees a very awkward person, he says, "How stupid you are; perhaps you are an Englishman."[121] Mr. Williams tells us of a Fijian who, having been to the United States, was ordered by his chiefs to say whether the country of the white man was better than Fiji, and in what respects. He had not, however, gone far in telling the truth, when one cried out, "He is a prating fellow"; another, "He is impudent"; and some said, "Kill him."[122] The Koriaks are more argumentative; in order to prove that the accounts they hear of the advantages of other countries are so many lies, they say to the stranger, "If you could enjoy these advantages at home, what made you take so much trouble to come to us?"[123] But the Koriaks, in their turn are looked down upon by their neighbours, the Chukchi, who call the surrounding peoples old women, only fit to guard their flocks, and to be their attendants.[124] The Ainu despise the Japanese {172} just as much as the Japanese despise them, and are convinced of "the superiority of their own blood and descent over that of all other peoples in the world."[125] Even the miserable Veddah of Ceylon has a very high opinion of himself, and regards his civilised neighbours with contempt.[126] As is often the case with civilised men, savages attribute to their own people all kinds of virtue in perfection. The South American Mbayás, according to Azara, "se croient la nation la plus noble du monde, la plus généreuse, la plus exacte à tenir sa parole avec loyauté, et la plus vaillante."[127] The Eskimo of Norton Sound speak of themselves as _yu'-p[)i]k_, meaning fine or complete people, whereas an Indian is termed _iñ-k[)i]-l[)i]k_, from a word which means "a louse egg."[128] When a Greenlander saw a foreigner of gentle and modest manners, his usual remark was, "He is almost as well-bred as we," or, "He begins to be a man," that is, a Greenlander.[129] The savage regards his people as the people, as the root of all others, and as occupying the middle of the earth. The Hottentots love to call themselves "the men of men."[130] The Indians of the Ungava district, Hudson Bay, give themselves the name _nenenot_, that is, true or ideal red men.[131] In the language of the Illinois Indians the word _illinois_ means "men"--"as if they looked upon all other Indians as beasts."[132] The aborigines of Hayti believed that their island was the first of all things, that the sun and moon issued from one of its caverns, and men from another.[133] Each Australian tribe, says Mr. Curr, regards its country as the centre of the earth, which in most cases is believed not to extend more than a couple of hundred miles or so in any direction.[134] [Footnote 118: Hall, _Arctic Researches_, p. 566 _sq._] [Footnote 119: Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 109.] [Footnote 120: Keating, _Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River_, ii. 168. See also Boller, _Among the Indians_, p. 54 _sq._] [Footnote 121: Williams, _Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea Islands_, p. 514.] [Footnote 122: Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, p. 105.] [Footnote 123: Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, p. 224.] [Footnote 124: Sauer, _op. cit._ p. 255.] [Footnote 125: Batchelor, 'Notes on the Ainu,' in _Trans. Asiatic Soc. Japan_, x. 211 _sq._ Howard, _Life with Trans-Siberian Savages_, p. 182.] [Footnote 126: Nevill, in _Taprobanian_, i. 192. Sarasin, _op. cit._ iii. 530, 534. 553.] [Footnote 127: Azara, _Voyages dans l'Amérique méridionale_, ii. 107.] [Footnote 128: Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 306 _sq._] [Footnote 129: Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 126.] [Footnote 130: Kidd, _The Essential Kafir_, p. 92.] [Footnote 131: Turner, 'Ethnology of the Ungava District,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xi. 267.] [Footnote 132: Marquette, _Recit des voyages_, p. 47 _sq._] [Footnote 133: Brett, _Indian Tribes of Guiana_, p. 376.] [Footnote 134: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 50. For other instances of national conceit or pride among savages see Darwin, _Journal of Researches_, p. 207 (Fuegians); von den Steinen, _Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens_, p. 332 (Bakaïri); von Humboldt, _Personal Narrative of Travels to the Equinoctial Regions of the New Continent_, v. 423, and Brett, _op. cit._ p. 128 (Guiana Indians); James, _Expedition to the Rocky Mountains_, i. 320 (Omahas); Murdoch, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 42 (Point Barrow Eskimo); Krasheninnikoff, _op. cit._ p. 180 (Kamchadales); Brough Smyth, _op. cit._ ii. 284 (Australian natives); Macpherson, _op. cit._ p. 67 (Kandhs); Munzinger, _Ueber die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 94; Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 198 (Ovambo).] {173} We meet with similar feelings and ideas among the nations of archaic culture. The Chinese are taught to think themselves superior to all other peoples. In their writings, ancient and modern, the word "foreigner" is regularly joined with some disrespectful epithet, implying or expressing the ignorance, brutality, obstinacy, or meanness of alien nations, and their obligations to or dependence upon China.[135] To Confucius himself China was "the middle kingdom," "the multitude of great states," "all under heaven," beyond which were only rude and barbarous tribes.[136] According to Japanese ideas, Nippon was the first country created, and the centre of the world.[137] The ancient Egyptians considered themselves as the peculiar people, specially loved by the gods. They alone were termed "men" (_romet_); other nations were negroes, Asiatics, or Libyans, but not men; and according to the myth these nations were descended from the enemies of the gods.[138] The national pride of the Assyrians, so often referred to by the Hebrew prophets,[139] is conspicuous everywhere in their cuneiform inscriptions: they are the wise, the brave, the powerful, who, like the deluge, carry away all resistance; their kings are the "matchless, irresistible"; and their gods are much exalted above the gods of all other nations.[140] To the Hebrews their own land was "an exceeding good land," "flowing with milk and honey," "the glory of all lands";[141] and its inhabitants were a holy {174} people which the Lord had chosen "to be a special people unto Himself, above all people that are upon the face of the earth."[142] Concerning the ancient Persians, Herodotus writes:--"They look upon themselves as very greatly superior in all respects to the rest of mankind, regarding others as approaching to excellence in proportion as they dwell nearer to them; whence it comes to pass that those who are the farthest off must be the most degraded of mankind."[143] To this day the monarch of Persia retains the title of "the Centre of the Universe"; and it is not easy to persuade a native of Isfahan that any European capital can be superior to his native city.[144] The Greeks called Delphi--or rather the round stone in the Delphic temple--"the navel" or "middle point of the earth";[145] and they considered the natural relation between themselves and barbarians to be that between master and slave.[146] [Footnote 135: Philip, _Life and Opinions of the Rev. W. Milne_, p. 257. _Cf._ Staunton, in _Narrative of the Chinese Embassy to the Khan of the Tourgouth Tartars_, p. viii.] [Footnote 136: Legge, _Chinese Classics_, i. 107. See also Giles, _op. cit._ ii. 116, n. 2.] [Footnote 137: Griffis, _Religions of Japan_, p. 207.] [Footnote 138: Erman, _Life in Ancient Egypt_, p. 32.] [Footnote 139: _Isaiah_, x. 7 _sqq._; xxxvii. 24 _sqq._ _Ezekiel_, xxxi. 10 _sq._ _Zephaniah_, ii. 15.] [Footnote 140: Mürdter-Delitzsch, _Geschichte Babyloniens und Assyriens_, p. 104.] [Footnote 141: _Numbers_, xiii. 27; xiv. 7. _Ezekiel_, xx. 6, 15.] [Footnote 142: _Deuteronomy_, vii. 6.] [Footnote 143: Herodotus, i. 134.] [Footnote 144: Rawlinson, in his translation of Herodotus, i. 260 _sq._ n. 5.] [Footnote 145: Pindar, _Pythia_, vi. 3 _sq._ _Idem_, _Nemea_, vii. 33 _sq._ Aeschylus, _Eumenides_, 40, 166. Sophocles, _[OE]dipus Tyrannus_, 480, 898. Livy, xxxviii. 48. _Cf._ Herodotus' theory of "extremities" (iii. 115 _sq._), and Rawlinson's commentary, in his translation of Herodotus, i. 260 _sq._ n. 6.] [Footnote 146: Euripides, _Iphigenia in Aulide_, 1400 _sq._ Aristotle, _Politica_, i. 2, 6, pp. 1252 b, 1255 a.] In the archaic State the national feeling is in some cases greatly strengthened by the religious feeling; whilst in other instances religion inspires devotion to the family, clan, or caste rather than to the nation, or constitutes a tie not only between compatriots but between members of different political communities. The ancestor-worship of the Chinese has hardly been conducive to genuine patriotism. Whatever devotion to the common weal may have prevailed among the Vedic Aryans, it has certainly passed away beneath the influence of Brahmanism, or been narrowed down to the caste, the village, or the family.[147] The Zoroastrian Ahura-Mazda was not a national god, but "the god of the Aryans," that is, of all the peoples who inhabited ancient Iran; and these were constantly at war {175} with one another.[148] Muhammedans, whilst animated with a common hatred towards the Christians, show little public spirit in relation to their respective countries,[149] composed as they are of a variety of loosely connected, often very heterogeneous elements, ruled over by a monarch whose power is in many districts more nominal than real. In ancient Greece and Rome patriotism no doubt contained a religious element--each state and town had its tutelary gods and heroes, who were considered its proper masters;[150] but in the first place it was free citizens' love of their native institutions, a civic virtue which grew up on the soil of liberty. When the two Spartans who were sent to Xerxes to be put to death were advised by one of his governors to surrender themselves to the king, their answer was, "Had you known what freedom is, you would have bidden us fight for it, not with the spear only, but with the battle-axe."[151] And of the Athenians who lived at the time of the Persian wars, Demosthenes said that they were ready to die for their country rather than to see it enslaved, and that they considered the outrages and insults which befell him who lived in a subjugated city to be more terrible than death.[152] In classical antiquity "the influence of patriotism thrilled through every fibre of moral and intellectual life."[153] In some Greek cities emigration was prohibited by law, at Argos even on penalty of death.[154] Plato, in the Republic, sacrificed the family to the interests of the State. Cicero placed our duty to our country next after our duty to the immortal gods and before our duty to our parents.[155] "Of all connections," he says, "none is more weighty, none is more dear, than that between every individual and his country. Our parents are dear to us; {176} our children, our kinsmen, our friends, are dear to us; but our country comprehends alone all the endearments of us all. What good man would hesitate to die for her if he could do her service?"[156] [Footnote 147: Wheeler, _History of India_, ii. 586 _sq._ See also Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Gentium_, p. 529.] [Footnote 148: Meyer, _Geschichte des Alterthums_, i. 540. Spiegel, _Erânische Alterthumskunde_, iii. 687 _sqq._] [Footnote 149: Polak, _Persien_, i. 12. Urquhart, _Spirit of the East_, ii. 427, 439 (Turks). Burckhardt, _Bedouins and Wahábys_, p. 204 _sq._ (Turks and Arab settlers).] [Footnote 150: Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Gentium_, p. 529. Schmidt, _Die Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 221.] [Footnote 151: Herodotus, vii. 134 _sq._] [Footnote 152: Demosthenes, _De Corona_, 205, p. 296.] [Footnote 153: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, i. 200.] [Footnote 154: Plutarch, _Lycurgus_, xxvii. 5. Ovid, _Metamorphoses_, xv. 29.] [Footnote 155: Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 45 (160). _Cf._ _ibid._ iii. 23 (90).] [Footnote 156: _Ibid._ i. 17 (57). _Cf._ Cicero, _De legibus_, ii. 2, (5).] The duty of patriotism springs, in the first instance, from the patriotic feeling; when the love of country is common in a nation public resentment is felt towards him who does not act as that sentiment requires him to act. Moreover, lack of patriotism in a person may also be resented by his fellow-countrymen as an injury done to themselves; and as we have seen before, anger, and especially anger felt by a whole community, has a tendency to lead to moral disapproval. For analogous reasons deeds of patriotism are apt to evoke moral praise. However, in benefiting his own people the patriot may cause harm to other people; and where the altruistic sentiment is broad enough to extend beyond the limits of the State and strong enough to make its voice heard even in competition with the love of country and the love of self, his conduct may consequently be an object of reproach. At the lower stages of civilisation the interests of foreigners are not regarded at all, except when sheltered by the rule of hospitality; but gradually, owing to circumstances which will be discussed in the following chapter, altruism tends to expand, and men are at last considered to have duties to mankind at large. The Chinese moralists inculcated benevolence to all men without making any reference to national distinctions.[157] Mih-tsze, who lived in the interval between Confucius and Mencius, even taught that we ought to love all men equally; but this doctrine called forth protests as abnegating the peculiar devotion due to relatives.[158] In Thâi-Shang it is said that a good man will feel kindly towards every creature, and should not hurt even the insect tribes, grass, and trees.[159] Buddhism {177} enjoins the duty of universal love:--"As a mother, even at the risk of her own life, protects her son, her only son, so let a man cultivate goodwill without measure toward all beings, . . . unhindered love and friendliness toward the whole world, above, below, around."[160] According to the Hindu work Panchatantra it is the thought of little-minded persons to consider whether a man is one of ourselves or an alien, the whole earth being of kin to him who is generously disposed.[161] In Greece and Rome philosophers arose who opposed national narrowness and prejudice. Democritus of Abdera said that every country is accessible to a wise man, and that a good soul's fatherland is the whole earth.[162] The same view was expressed by Theodorus, one of the later Cyrenaics, who denounced devotion to country as ridiculous.[163] The Cynics, in particular, attached slight value to the citizenship of any special state, declaring themselves to be citizens of the world.[164] But, as Zeller observes, in the mouth of the Cynic this doctrine was meant to express not so much the essential oneness of all mankind, as the philosopher's independence of country and home.[165] It was the Stoic philosophy that first gave to the idea of a world-citizenship a definite positive meaning, and raised it to historical importance. The citizen of Alexander's huge empire had in a way become a citizen of the world; and national dislikes were so much more readily overcome as the various nationalities comprised in it were united not only under a common government but also in a common culture.[166] Indeed, the founder of Stoicism was himself only half a Greek. But there is also an obvious connection between the cosmopolitan idea and the Stoic {178} system in general.[167] According to the Stoics, human society has for its basis the identity of reason in individuals; hence we have no ground for limiting this society to a single nation. We are all, says Seneca, members of one great body, the universe; "we are all akin by Nature, who has formed us of the same elements, and placed us here together for the same end."[168] "If our reason is common," says Marcus Aurelius, "there is a common law, as reason commands us what to do and what not to do; and if there is a common law we are fellow-citizens; if this is so, we are members of some political community--the world is in a manner a state."[169] To this great state, which includes all rational beings, the individual states are related as the houses of a city are to the city collectively;[170] and the wise man will esteem it far above any particular community in which the accident of birth has placed him.[171] [Footnote 157: _Lun Yü_, xii. 22. Mencius, vii. 1. 45. Douglas, _Confucianism and Taouism_, pp. 108, 205.] [Footnote 158: Edkins, _Religion in China_, p. 119. Legge, _Chinese Classics_, ii. 476, n. 45. de Groot, _Religious System of China_, (vol. ii. book) i. 684.] [Footnote 159: _Thâi-Shang_, 3.] [Footnote 160: Quoted by Rhys Davids, _Hibbert Lectures on the History of Buddhism_, p. 111.] [Footnote 161: Muir, _Religious and Moral Sentiments rendered from Sanskrit Writers_, p. 109.] [Footnote 162: Stobæus, _Florilegium_, xl. 7, vol. ii. 80. _Cf._ Natorp, _Die Ethika des Demokritos_, p. 117, n. 41.] [Footnote 163: Diogenes Laertius, _Vitæ philosophorum_, ii. 98 _sq._] [Footnote 164: _Ibid._ vi. 12, 63, 72, 98. Epictetus, _Dissertationes_, iii. 24. 66. Stobæus, xlv. 28, vol. ii. 252.] [Footnote 165: Zeller, _Socrates and the Socratic Schools_, p. 326 _sq._ _Idem_, _Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics_, p. 327.] [Footnote 166: _Cf._ Plutarch, _De Alexandri Magni fortuna aut virtute_, i. 6, p. 329.] [Footnote 167: See Zeller, _Stoics, &c._ p. 327 _sq._] [Footnote 168: Seneca, _Epistulæ_, xcv. 52.] [Footnote 169: Marcus Aurelius, _Commentarii_, iv. 4. _Cf._ _ibid._ vi. 44, and ix. 9; Cicero, _De legibus_, i. 7 (23); Epictetus, _Dissertationes_, i. 13. 3.] [Footnote 170: Marcus Aurelius, iii. 11.] [Footnote 171: Seneca, _De otio_, iv. 1. _Idem_, _Epistulæ_, lxviii. 2. Epictetus, _Dissertationes_, iii. 22. 83 _sqq._] But the Roman ideal of patriotism, with its utter disregard for foreign nations,[172] was not opposed by philosophy alone: it met with an even more formidable antagonist in the new religion. The Christian and the Stoic rejected it on different grounds: whilst the Stoic felt himself as a citizen of the world, the Christian felt himself as a citizen of heaven, to whom this planet was only a place of exile. Christianity was not hostile to the State.[173] At the very time when Nero committed his worst atrocities, St. Paul declared that there is no power but of God, and that whosoever resists the power resists the ordinance of God and shall be condemned;[174] and Tertullian says that all Christians send up their prayers for the life of the emperors, for their ministers, for magistrates, for the good of the {179} State and the peace of the Empire.[175] But the emperor should be obeyed only so long as his commands do not conflict with the law of God--a Christian ought rather to suffer like Daniel in the lions' den than sin against his religion;[176] and nothing is more entirely foreign to him than affairs of State.[177] Indeed, in the whole Roman Empire there were no men who so entirely lacked patriotism as the early Christians. They had no affection for Judea, they soon forgot Galilee, they cared nothing for the glory of Greece and Rome.[178] When the judges asked them which was their country they said in answer, "I am a Christian."[179] And long after Christianity had become the religion of the Empire, St. Augustine declared that it matters not, in respect of this short and transitory life, under whose dominion a mortal man lives, if only he be not compelled to acts of impiety or injustice.[180] Later on, when the Church grew into a political power independent of the State, she became a positive enemy of national interests. In the seventeenth century a Jesuit general called patriotism "a plague and the most certain death of Christian love."[181] [Footnote 172: _Cf._ Lactantius, _Divinæ Institutiones_, vi. ('De vero cultu'), 6 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, vi. 655).] [Footnote 173: _St. Matthew_, xxii. 21. _1 Peter_, ii. 13 _sq._] [Footnote 174: _Romans_, xiii. 1 _sq._ See also _Titus_, iii. 1.] [Footnote 175: Tertullian, _Apologeticus_, 39 (Migne, _op. cit._ i. 468). See also Ludwig, _Tertullian's Ethik_, p. 98 _sq._] [Footnote 176: Tertullian, _De idololatria_, 15 (Migne, _op. cit._ i. 684).] [Footnote 177: Tertullian, _Apologeticus_, 38 (Migne, _op. cit._ i. 465):--"Nec ulla magis res aliena, quam publica."] [Footnote 178: See Renan, _Hibbert Lectures on the Influence of Rome on Christianity_, p. 28.] [Footnote 179: Le Blant, _Inscriptions chrétiennes_, i. 128.] [Footnote 180: St. Augustine, _De Civitate Dei_, v. 17.] [Footnote 181: von Eicken, _Geschichte und System der mittelalterlichen Weltanschauung_, p. 809.] With the fall of the Roman Empire patriotism died out in Europe, and remained extinct for centuries. It was a feeling hardly compatible either with the migratory life of the Teutonic tribes or with the feudal system, which grew up wherever they fixed their residence. The knights, it is true, were not destitute of the natural affection for home. When Aliaumes is mortally wounded by Géri li Sors he exclaims, "Holy Virgin, I shall never more see Saint-Quentin nor Néèle";[182] and the troubadour Bernard de Ventadour touchingly sings, "Quan la doussa aura venta--Deves nostre païs,--M'es veiaire que senta--Odor de {180} Paradis."[183] But to a man of the Middle Ages "his country" meant little more than the neighbourhood in which he lived.[184] Kingdoms existed, but no nations. The first duty of a vassal was to be loyal to his lord;[185] but no national spirit bound together the various barons of one country. A man might be the vassal of the king of France and of the king of England at the same time; and often, from caprice, passion, or sordid interest, the barons sold their services to the enemies of the kingdom. The character of his knighthood was also perpetually pressing the knight to a course of conduct distinct from all national objects.[186] The cause of a distressed lady was in many instances preferable to that of the country to which he belonged --as when the Captal de Bouche, though an English subject, did not hesitate to unite his troops with those of the Compte de Foix to relieve the ladies in a French town, where they were besieged and threatened with violence by the insurgent peasantry.[187] When a knight's duties towards his country are mentioned in the rules of Chivalry they are spoken of as duties towards his lord:--"The wicked knight," it is said, "that aids not his earthly lord and natural country against another prince, is a knight without office."[188] Far from being, as M. Gautier asserts,[189] the object of an express command in the code of Chivalry, true patriotism had there no place at all. It was not known as an ideal, still less did it exist as a reality, among either knights or commoners. As a duke of Orleans could bind himself by a fraternity of arms and alliance to a duke of Lancaster,[190] so English merchants were in the habit of supplying nations at war against England with provisions bought at English fairs, and weapons wrought by English hands.[191] If, as M. Gaston Paris maintains, a {181} deep feeling of national union had inspired the Chanson de Roland,[192] it is a strange, yet undeniable, fact that no distinct trace of this feeling displayed itself in the mediæval history of France before the English wars. [Footnote 182: _Li Romans de Raoul de Cambrai_, 210, p. 185.] [Footnote 183: Quoted by Gautier, _La Chevalerie_, p. 64.] [Footnote 184: See Cibrario, _Della economia politica del medio eve_, i. 263; de Crozals, _Histoire de la civilization_, ii. 287.] [Footnote 185: _Ordre of Chyualry_, foll. 13 b. 32 b.] [Footnote 186: See Mills, _History of Chivalry_, i. 140 _sq._] [Footnote 187: Scott, _Essay on Chivalry_, p. 31.] [Footnote 188: _Ordre of Chyualry_, fol. 14 b.] [Footnote 189: Gautier, _op. cit._ p. 33.] [Footnote 190: Sainte-Palaye, _Mémoires sur l'ancienne Chevalerie_, ii. 72.] [Footnote 191: Pike, _History of Crime in England_, i. 264 _sq._] [Footnote 192: Paris, _La poésie du moyen age_, p. 107. M. Gautier says (_op. cit._ p. 61) that Roland is "la France faite homme."] Besides feudalism and the want of political cohesion, there were other factors that contributed to hinder the development of national personality and patriotic devotion. This sentiment presupposes not only that the various parts of which a country is composed shall have a vivid feeling of their unity, but also that they, united, shall feel themselves as a nation clearly distinct from other nations. In the Middle Ages national differences were largely obscured by the preponderance of the Universal Church, by the creation of the Holy Roman Empire, by the prevalence of a common language as the sole vehicle of mental culture, and by the undeveloped state of the vernacular tongues. To make use of the native dialect was a sign of ignorance, and to place worldly interests above the claims of the Church was impious. When Macchiavelli declared that he preferred his country to the safety of his soul, people considered him guilty of blasphemy; and when the Venetians defied the Papal thunders by averring that they were Venetians in the first place, and only Christians in the second, the world heard them with amazement.[193] [Footnote 193: 'National Personality,' in _Edinburgh Review_, cxciv. 133.] In England the national feeling developed earlier than on the Continent, no doubt owing to her insular position and freer institutions; as Montesquieu observes, patriotism thrives best in democracies.[194] At the time of the English Reformation the sense of corporate national life had evidently gained considerable strength, and the love of England has never been expressed in more exquisite form than it was by Shakespeare. At the same time the sense of patriotism was often grossly perverted by religious {182} bigotry and party spirit.[195] Even champions of liberty, like Lord Russell and Algernon Sidney, accepted French gold in the hope of embarrassing the King; and Sidney went so far as to try to instigate De Witt to invade England. Loyalism, in particular, proved a much stronger incentive than love of country. A loyalist like Strafford would have employed half-savage Irish troops against his own countrymen, and the Scotch Jacobites invited a French invasion. [Footnote 194: Montesquieu, _De l'esprit des Lois_, iv. 5 (_[OE]uvres_, p. 206 _sq._).] [Footnote 195: See _Edinburgh Review_, cxciv. 133, 136 _sq._; Pearson, _National Life and Character_, p. 190.] In France the development of the national feeling was closely connected with the strengthening of the royal power and its gradual victory over feudalism. The word _patrie_ was for the first time used by Charles VII.'s chronicler, Jean Chartier, and he also condemned as _renégats_ those Frenchmen who, at the end of the hundred years war, fought on the side of the English.[196] But patriotism was for a long time inseparably confounded with loyalty to the sovereign. According to Bossuet "tout l'État est en la personne du prince";[197] and Abbé Coyer observes that Colbert believed _royaume_ and _patrie_ to signify one and the same thing.[198] In the eighteenth century the spirit of rebellion succeeded that of devotion to the king; but the key-note of the great movement which led to the Revolution was the liberty and equality of the individual, not the glory or welfare of the nation. Men were looked upon as members of the human race, rather than as citizens of any particular country. To be a citizen of every nation, and not to belong to one's native country alone, was the dream of French writers in the eighteenth century.[199] "The true sage is a cosmopolitan," says a writer of comedy.[200] Diderot asks which is the greater merit, to enlighten the human race, which remains for ever, or to save one's fatherland, which is {183} perishable.[201] According to Voltaire patriotism is composed of self-love and prejudice,[202] and only too often makes us the enemies of our fellow-men:--"Il est clair qu'un pays ne peut gagner sans qu'un autre perde, et qu'il ne peut vaincre sans faire des malheureux. Telle est donc la condition humaine, que souhaiter la grandeur de son pays, c'est souhaiter du mal à ses voisins."[203] In Germany, Lessing, Goethe, and Schiller felt themselves as citizens of the world, not of the German Empire, still less as Saxons or Suabians; and Klopstock, with his enthusiasm for German nationality and language, almost appeared eccentric.[204] Lessing writes point-blank:--"The praise of being an ardent patriot is to my mind the very last thing that I should covet; . . . I have no idea at all of love of the Fatherland, and it seems to me at best but an heroical weakness, which I can very readily dispense with."[205] [Footnote 196: Guibal, _Histoire du sentiment national en France pendant la guerre de Cent ans_, p. 526 _sq._] [Footnote 197: Legrand, _L'idée de patrie_, p. 20.] [Footnote 198: Block, _Dictionnaire général de la politique_, ii. 518.] [Footnote 199: Texte, _Jean-Jacques Rousseau and the Cosmopolitan Spirit in Literature_, p. 79.] [Footnote 200: Palissot de Montenoy, _Les philosophes_, iii. 4, p. 75.] [Footnote 201: Diderot, _Essai sur les règnes de Claude et de Néron_, ii. 75 (_[OE]uvres_, vi. 244).] [Footnote 202: Voltaire, _Pensées sur l'administration publique_, 14 (_[OE]uvres complètes_, v. 351).] [Footnote 203: _Idem_, _Dictionnaire philosophique_, art. Patrie (_[OE]uvres complètes_, viii. 118).] [Footnote 204: See Strauss, _Der alte und der neue Glaube_, p. 259 _sq._] [Footnote 205: Lessing, quoted by Ziegler, _Social Ethics_, p. 121.] The first French revolution marks the beginning of a new era in the history of patriotism. It inspired the masses with passion for the unity of the fatherland, the Republic "one and indivisible." At the same time it declared all nations to be brothers, and when it made war on foreign nations the object was only to deliver them from their oppressors.[206] But gradually the interest in the affairs of other countries grew more and more selfish, the attempt to emancipate was absorbed in the desire to subjugate; and this awoke throughout Europe a feeling which was destined to become the most powerful force in the history of the nineteenth century, the feeling of nationality. When Napoleon introduced French administration in the countries whose sovereigns he had deposed or degraded, the people resisted the change. The resistance was popular, as the rulers were absent or helpless, and it was national, being directed against foreign institutions.{184} It was stirred by the feeling of national rather than political unity, it was a protest against the dominion of race over race. The national element in this movement had in a manner been anticipated by the French Revolution itself. The French people was regarded by it as an ethnological, not as an historic, unit; descent was put in the place of tradition; the idea of the sovereignty of the people uncontrolled by the past gave birth to the idea of nationality independent of the political influence of history. But, as has been truly remarked, men were made conscious of the national element of the revolution by its conquests, not in its rise.[207] [Footnote 206: Block, _op. cit._ ii. 376.] [Footnote 207: See 'Nationality,' in _Home and Foreign Review_, i. 6 _sqq._] Ever since, the racial feeling has been the most vigorous force in European patriotism, and has gradually become a true danger to humanity. Beginning as a protest against the dominion of one race over another, this feeling led to a condemnation of every state which included different races, and finally developed into the complete doctrine that state and nationality should so far as possible be coextensive.[208] According to this theory the dominant nationality cannot admit the inferior nationalities dwelling within the boundaries of the state to an equality with itself, because, if it did, the state would cease to be national, and this would be contrary to the principle of its existence; or the weaker nationalities are compelled to change their language, institutions, and individuality, so as to be absorbed in the dominant race. And not only does the leading nationality assert its superiority in relation to all others within the body politic, but it also wants to assert itself at the expense of foreign nations and races. To the nationalist all this is true patriotism; love of country often stands for a feeling which has been well described as love of more country.[209] But at the same time opposite ideals are at work. The fervour of nineteenth century nationalism has not been able to quench the {185} cosmopolitan spirit. In spite of loud appeals made to racial instincts and the sense of national solidarity, the idea has been gaining ground that the aims of a nation must not conflict with the interests of humanity at large; that our love of country should be controlled by other countries' right to prosper and to develop their own individuality; and that the oppression of weaker nationalities inside the state and aggressiveness towards foreign nations, being mainly the outcome of vainglory and greed, are inconsistent with the aspirations of a good patriot, as well as of a good man. [Footnote 208: _Ibid._ p. 13 _sq._] [Footnote 209: Robertson, _Patriotism and Empire_, p. 138.] * * * * * Our long discussion of moral ideas regarding such modes of conduct as directly concern other men's welfare has at last come to an end. We have seen that they may be ultimately traced to a variety of sources: to the influence of habit or education, to egoistic considerations of some kind or other which have given rise to moral feelings, to notions of social expediency, to disinterested likings or dislikes, and, above all, to sympathetic resentment or sympathetic approval springing from an altruistic disposition of mind. But how to account for this disposition? Our explanation of that group of moral ideas which we have been hitherto investigating is not complete until we have found an answer to this important question. I shall therefore in the next chapter examine the origin and development of the altruistic sentiment. CHAPTER XXXIV THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE ALTRUISTIC SENTIMENT THERE is one form of the altruistic sentiment which man shares with all mammals and many other animals, namely, maternal affection. As regards its origin various theories have been set forth. According to Aristotle, parents love their children as being portions of themselves.[1] A similar explanation of maternal affection has been given by some modern writers.[2] Thus Professor Espinas regards this sentiment as modified self-love and love of property. The female, he says, at the moment when she gives birth to little ones resembling herself, has no difficulty in recognising them as the flesh of her flesh; the feeling she experiences towards them is made up of sympathy and pity, but we cannot exclude from it an idea of property which is the most solid support of sympathy. She feels and understands up to a certain point that these young ones which are herself at the same time belong to her; the love of herself, extended to those who have gone out from her, changes egoism into sympathy and the proprietary instinct into an affectionate impulse.[3] This hypothesis, however, seems to me to be very inadequate. It does not explain why, for instance, a bird takes more care of her eggs than of other matter segregated from {187} her body, which may equally well be regarded as a part of herself. Nor does it account for a foster-mother's affection for her adopted offspring.[4] Of this many instances have been noticed in the lower animals; and among some savage peoples adopted children are said to be treated by their foster-parents with the same affection as if they were their own flesh and blood.[5] [Footnote 1: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, viii. 12. 2 _sq._] [Footnote 2: Hartley, _Observations on Man_, i. 496 _sq._ Fichte, _Das System der Sittenlehre_, p. 433.] [Footnote 3: Espinas, _Des sociétés animales_ (2nd ed.), p. 444 _sq._, quoted by Ribot, _Psychology of the Emotions_, p. 280.] [Footnote 4: _Cf._ Spencer, _Principles of Psychology_, ii. 624.] [Footnote 5: Murdoch, 'Ethnol. Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 419 (Point Barrow Eskimo). Thomson, _Savage Island_, p. 135.] A very different explanation of maternal love has been given by Professor Bain. He derives parental affection from the "intense pleasure in the embrace of the young." He observes that "such a pleasure once created would associate itself with the prevailing features and aspects of the young, and give to all of these their very great interest. For the sake of the pleasure, the parent discovers the necessity of nourishing the subject of it, and comes to regard the ministering function as a part or condition of the delight."[6] But if the satisfaction in animal contact were at the bottom of the maternal feeling, conjugal affection ought by far to surpass it in intensity; and yet, among the lower races at least, the case is exactly the reverse, conjugal affection being vastly inferior in degree to a mother's love of her child. It may indeed be fairly doubted whether there is any "intense pleasure" at all in embracing a new-born baby--unless it be one's own. It seems much more likely that parents like to touch their children because they love them, than that they love them because they like to touch them. Attraction, showing itself either by elementary movements of approach, or by contact, or by the embrace, is the outward _expression_ of tenderness.[7] Professor Bain himself observes that as anger reaches a satisfying term by knocking some one down, love is completed and satisfied with an embrace.[8] But this by no means implies that the embrace is the cause of love; it {188} only means that love has a tendency to express itself outwardly in an act of embrace. [Footnote 6: Bain, _Emotions and the Will_, p. 140.] [Footnote 7: Ribot, _op. cit._ p. 234.] [Footnote 8: Bain, _op. cit._ p. 126.] In the opinion of Mr. Spencer, again, parental love is essentially love of the weak or helpless. This instinct, he remarks, is not adequately defined as that which attaches a creature to its young. Though most frequently and most strongly displayed in this relation, the so-called parental feeling is really excitable apart from parenthood; and the common trait of the objects which arouse it is always relative weakness or helplessness.[9] This hypothesis undoubtedly contains part of the truth. That the maternal instinct is in some degree love of the helpless is obvious from the fact that, among those of the lower animals which are not gregarious, mother and young separate as soon as the latter are able to shift for themselves; nay, in many cases they are actually driven away by her. Moreover, in species which are so constituted that the young from the very outset can help themselves there is no maternal love. These facts indicate where we have to look for the source of this sentiment. When the young are born in a state of utter helplessness somebody must take care of them, or the species cannot survive, or, rather, such a species could never have come into existence. The maternal instinct may thus be assumed to owe its origin to the survival of the fittest, to the natural selection of useful spontaneous variations. [Footnote 9: Spencer, _Principles of Psychology_, ii. 623 _sq._ See also Hartley, _op. cit._ i. 497.] This is also recognised by Mr. Spencer;[10] but his theory fails to explain the indisputable fact that there is a difference between maternal love and the mere love of the helpless. Even in a gregarious species mothers make a distinction between their own offspring and other young. During my stay among the mountaineers of Morocco I was often struck by the extreme eagerness with which in the evening, when the flock of ewes and the flock of lambs were reunited, each mother sought for her own lamb, and each lamb for its own mother. A similar {189} discrimination has been noticed even in cases of conscious adoption. Brehm tells us of a female baboon which had so capacious a heart that she not only adopted young monkeys of other species, but stole young dogs and cats which she continually carried about; yet her kindness did not go so far as to share food with her adopted offspring, although she divided everything quite fairly with her own young ones.[11] To account for the maternal sentiment we must therefore assume the existence of some other stimulus besides the signs of helplessness, which produces, or at least strengthens, the instinctive motor response in the mother. This stimulus, so far as I can see, is rooted in the external relationship in which the offspring from the beginning stand to the mother. She is in close proximity to her helpless young from their tenderest age; and she loves them because they are to her a cause of pleasure. [Footnote 10: Spencer, _op. cit._ ii. 623.] [Footnote 11: Darwin, _Descent of Man_, p. 70.] In various animal species the young are cared for not only by the mother, but by the father as well. This is the general rule among birds: whilst the hatching of the eggs and the chief part of the rearing-duties belong to the mother, the father acts as a protector, and provides food for the family. Among most of the mammals, on the other hand, the connections between the sexes are restricted to the time of the rut, hence the father may not even see his young. But there are also some mammalian species in which male and female remain together even after the birth of the offspring and the father defends his family against enemies.[12] Among the Quadrumana this seems to be the rule.[13] All the best authorities agree that the Gorilla and the Chimpanzee live in families. When the female is pregnant the male builds a rude nest in a tree, where she is delivered; and he spends the night crouching at the foot of the tree, protecting the female and their young one, which are in the nest above, from the nocturnal attacks of leopards. Passing from the {190} highest monkeys to the savage and barbarous races of men, we meet with the same phenomenon. In the human race the family consisting of father, mother, and offspring is probably a universal institution, whether founded on a monogamous, polygynous, or polyandrous marriage. And, as among the lower animals having the same habit, whilst the immediate care of the children chiefly belongs to the mother, the father is the guardian of the family.[14] [Footnote 12: Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 11 _sq._] [Footnote 13: _Ibid._ p. 12 _sqq._] [Footnote 14: Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 14 _sqq._] The stimuli to which the paternal instinct responds are apparently derived from the same circumstances as those which call into activity the maternal instinct, that is, the helplessness and the nearness of the offspring. Wherever this instinct exists, the father is near his young from the beginning, living together with the mother. And here again the sentimental response is in all probability the result of a process of natural selection, which has preserved a mental disposition necessary for the existence of the species. Among birds paternal care is indispensable. Equal and continual warmth is the first requirement for the development of the embryo and the preservation of the young ones; and for this the mother almost always wants the assistance of the father, who provides her with necessaries, and sometimes relieves her of the brooding. Among mammals, again, whilst the young at their tenderest age can never do without the mother, the father's aid is generally not required. That the Primates form an exception to this rule is probably due to the small number of young, the female bringing forth but one at a time, and besides, among the highest apes and in man, to the long period of infancy.[15] If this is true we may assume that the paternal instinct occurred in primitive man, as it occurs, more or less strongly developed, among the anthropoid apes and among existing savages. [Footnote 15: See _ibid._ p. 20 _sqq._ Fiske, _Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy_, ii. 342 _sq._] By origin closely allied to the paternal feeling is the attachment between individuals of different sex, which {191} induces male and female to remain with one another beyond the mere act of propagation till after the birth of the offspring. It is obvious that, where the generative power is restricted to a certain season--a peculiarity which primitive man seems to have shared with other mammals[16]--it cannot be the sexual instinct that causes the prolonged union of the sexes, nor can I conceive any other egoistic motive that could account for this habit. Considering that the union lasts till after the birth of the offspring and that it is accompanied with parental care, I conclude that it is for the benefit of the young that male and female continue to live together. The tie which joins them seems therefore, like parental affection, to be an instinct developed through natural selection. The tendency to feel some attachment to a being which has been the cause of pleasure--in this case sexual pleasure--is undoubtedly at the bottom of this instinct. Such a feeling may originally have induced the sexes to remain united and the male to protect the female even after the sexual desire was gratified; and if procuring great advantage to the species in the struggle for existence, conjugal attachment would naturally have developed into a specific characteristic. [Footnote 16: Westermarck, _op. cit._ ch. ii.] We have reason to believe that the germ of this sentiment occurred already in our earliest human ancestors, that marriage, in the natural history sense of the term, is a habit transmitted to man from some ape-like progenitor.[17] In the course of evolution conjugal affection has increased both in intensity and complexity; but advancement in civilisation has not at every step been favourable to its development. When restricted to men only, a higher culture on the contrary tends to alienate husband and wife, as is the case in Eastern countries and as was the case in ancient Greece. Another fact leading to conjugal apathy is the custom which compels the women before marriage to live strictly apart from the men. In China it often happens that the parties have not even seen each {192} other till the wedding day;[18] and in Greece Plato urged in vain that young men and women should be more frequently permitted to meet one another, so that there should be less enmity and indifference in the married life.[19] Conjugal love is both a cause and an effect of monogamy; but, as we shall see subsequently, the course of civilisation does not involve a steady progress towards stricter monogamy. The notions about women also influence the emotions felt towards them; and we have noticed that the great religions of the world have generally held them in little regard.[20] In its fully developed form the passion which unites the sexes is perhaps the most compound of all human feelings. Mr. Spencer thus sums up the masterly analysis he has given of it:--"Round the physical feeling forming the nucleus of the whole, are gathered the feelings produced by personal beauty, that constituting simple attachment, those of reverence, of love, of approbation, of self-esteem, of property, of love of freedom, of sympathy. These, all greatly exalted, and severally tending to reflect their excitements on one another, unite to form the mental state we call love."[21] [Footnote 17: _Ibid._ _op. cit._ chs. i., iii.] [Footnote 18: Katscher, _Bilder aus dem chinesischen Leben_, pp. 71, 84.] [Footnote 19: Plato, _Leges_, vi. 771 _sq._] [Footnote 20: _Supra_, i. 662 _sqq._] [Footnote 21: Spencer, _Principles of Psychology_, i. 488.] The duration of conjugal and parental feelings varies extremely. Most birds, with the exception of those belonging to the Gallinaceous family, when pairing do so once for all till either one or the other dies;[22] whereas among the mammals man and possibly some apes[23] are the only species whose conjugal unions last any considerable time after the birth of the offspring. Among many of the lower races of men lifelong marriages seem to be the rule, and among a few separation is said to be entirely unknown; but there is abundant evidence that marriage has, upon the whole, become more durable with advancing civilisation.[24] One cause of this is that conjugal affection has become more lasting. And the greater duration of this sentiment may be explained partly from the refinement {193} of the uniting passion, involving appreciation of mental qualities which last long after youth and beauty have passed away, and partly also from the greater durability of parental feelings, which form a tie not only between parents and children, but between husband and wife. [Footnote 22: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 11.] [Footnote 23: _Ibid._ pp. 13, 14, 535.] [Footnote 24: _Ibid._ ch. xxiii.] The parental feelings originally only last as long as the young are unable to shift for themselves--the paternal feeling possibly less. As Mr. Fiske observes, "where the infancy is very short, the parental feeling, though intense while it lasts, presently disappears, and the offspring cease to be distinguished from strangers of the same species. And in general the duration of the feelings which insure the protection of the offspring is determined by the duration of the infancy."[25] Among certain savages parental love is still said to be restricted to the age of helplessness. We are told that the affection of a Fuegian mother for her child gradually decreases in proportion as the child grows older, and ceases entirely when it reaches the age of seven or eight; thenceforth the parents in no way meddle with the affairs of their son, who may leave them if he likes.[26] When the parental feelings became more complex, through the association of other feelings, as those of property and pride, they naturally tended to extend themselves beyond the limits of infancy and childhood. But the chief cause of this extension seems to lie in the same circumstances as made man a gregarious animal. Where the grown-up children continued to stay with their parents, parental affection naturally tended to be prolonged, not only by the infusion into it of new elements, but by the direct influence of close living together. It was, moreover, extended to more distant descendants. The same stimuli as call forth kindly emotions towards a person's own children evoke similar emotions towards his grand- and great-grandchildren. [Footnote 25: Fiske, _op. cit._ ii. 343.] [Footnote 26: Bove, _Patagonia, Terra del Fuoco_, p. 133. See also Wied-Neuwied, _Reise nach Brasilien_, ii. 40 (Botocudos), Im Thurn, _Among the Indians of Guiana_, p. 219; Scaramucci and Giglioli, 'Notizie sui Danakil,' in _Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia_, xiv. 35.] {194} It is an old truth that children's love of their parents is generally much weaker than the parents' love of their children. The latter is absolutely necessary for the subsistence of the species, the former is not;[27] though, when a richer food-supply favoured the formation of larger communities, filial attachment must have been of advantage to the race.[28] No individual is born with filial love. However, Aristotle goes too far when saying that, whilst parents love their children from their birth upward, "children do not begin to love their parents until they are of a considerable age, and have got full possession of their wits and faculties."[29] Under normal circumstances the infant from an early age displays some attachment to its parents. Professor Sully tells us of a girl, about seventeen months old, who received her father after a few days absence with special marks of affection, "rushing up to him, smoothing and stroking his face and giving him all the toys in the room."[30] Filial love is retributive; the agreeable feeling produced by benefits received makes the individual look with pleasure and kindliness upon the giver. And here again the affection is strengthened by close living together, as appears from the cooling effect of long separation of children from their parents. But the filial feeling is not affection pure and simple, it is affection mingled with regard for the physical and mental superiority of the parent.[31] As the parental feeling is partly love of the weak and young, so the filial feeling is partly regard for the strong and (comparatively) old. [Footnote 27: This observation was made already by Hutcheson (_Inquiry into the Original of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue_, p. 219) and Adam Smith (_Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 199). The latter wrote, a hundred years before the publication of 'The Origin of Species,' that parental tenderness is a much stronger affection than filial piety, because "the continuance and propagation of the species depend altogether upon the former, and not upon the latter."] [Footnote 28: Darwin maintains (_Descent of Man_, p. 105) that the filial affections have been to a large extent gained through natural selection.] [Footnote 29: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, viii. 12. 2.] [Footnote 30: Sully, _Studies of Childhood_, p. 243.] [Footnote 31: See _supra_, i. 618 _sq._] Besides parental, conjugal, and filial attachment we find among all existing races of men altruism of the fraternal {195} type, binding together children of the same parents, relatives more remotely allied, and, generally, members of the same social unit. But I am inclined to suppose that man was not originally a gregarious animal, in the proper sense of the word, that he originally lived in families rather than in tribes, and that the tribe arose as the result of increasing food-supply, allowing the formation of larger communities, combined with the advantages which under such circumstances accrued from a gregarious life. The man-like apes are not gregarious; and considering that some of them are reported to be encountered in greater numbers in the season when most fruits come to maturity,[32] we may infer that the solitary life generally led by them is due chiefly to the difficulty they experience in getting food at other times of the year. That our earliest human or half-human ancestors lived on the same kind of food, and required about the same quantities of it as the man-like apes, seems to me a fairly legitimate supposition; and from this I conclude that they were probably not more gregarious than these apes. Subsequently man became carnivorous; but even when getting his living by fishing or hunting, he may still have continued as a rule this solitary kind of life, or gregariousness may have become his habit only in part. "An animal of a predatory kind," Mr. Spencer observes, "which has prey that can be caught and killed without help, profits by living alone: especially if its prey is much scattered, and is secured by stealthy approach or by lying in ambush. Gregariousness would here be a positive disadvantage. Hence the tendency of large carnivores, and also of small carnivores that have feeble and widely-distributed prey, to lead solitary lives."[33] It is certainly a noteworthy fact that even now there are rude savages who live rather in separate families than in tribes; and that their solitary life is due to want of {196} sufficient food is obvious from several facts which I have stated in full in another place.[34] These facts, as it seems to me, give much support to the supposition that the kind of food man subsisted upon, together with the large quantities of it which he wanted, formed in olden times a hindrance to a true gregarious manner of living, except perhaps in some unusually rich places. [Footnote 32: Savage, 'Observations on the External Characters and Habits of the _Troglodytes Niger_, in _Boston Journal of Natural History_, iv. 384. _Cf._ von Koppenfels, 'Meine Jagden auf Gorillas,' in _Die Gartenlaube_, 1877, p. 419.] [Footnote 33: Spencer, _Principles of Psychology_, ii. 558.] [Footnote 34: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 43 _sqq._] But man finally overcame this obstacle. "He has," to quote Darwin, "invented and is able to use various weapons, tools, traps, &c., with which he defends himself, kills or catches prey, and otherwise obtains food. He has made rafts or canoes for fishing or crossing over to neighbouring fertile islands. He has discovered the art of making fire, by which hard and stringy roots can be rendered digestible, and poisonous roots or herbs innocuous."[35] In short, man gradually found out new ways of earning his living and more and more emancipated himself from direct dependence on surrounding nature. The chief obstacle to a gregarious life was by this means surmounted, and the advantages of such a life were considerable. Living together in larger groups, men could resist the dangers of life and defend themselves much better than when solitary--all the more so as the physical strength of man, and especially savage man, is comparatively slight. The extension of the small family group may have taken place in two different ways: either by adhesion, or by natural growth and cohesion. In other words, new elements whether other family groups or single individuals may have united with it from without, or the children, instead of separating from their parents, may have remained with them and increased the group by forming new families themselves. There can be little doubt that the latter was the normal mode of extension. When gregariousness became an advantage to man, he would feel inclined to remain with those with whom he was living even after the family had fulfilled its object--the preservation of {197} the helpless offspring. And he would be induced to do so not only from egoistic considerations, but by an instinct which, owing to its usefulness, would gradually develop, practically within the limits of kinship--the gregarious instinct. [Footnote 35: Darwin, _Descent of Man_, p. 48 _sq._] By the gregarious instinct I understand an animal's proneness to live together with other members of its own species, apart from parental, conjugal, and filial attachment. It involves, or leads to, pleasure in the consciousness of their presence. The members of a herd are at ease in each other's company, suffer when they are separated, and rejoice when they are reunited. By actual living together the instinct is individualised,[36] and it is strengthened by habit. The pleasure with which one individual looks upon another is further increased by the solidarity of interests. Not only have they enjoyments in common, but they have the same enemies to resist, the same dangers to encounter, the same difficulties to overcome. Hence acts which are beneficial to the agent are at the same time beneficial to his companions, and the distinction between _ego_ and _alter_ loses much of its importance. [Footnote 36: In mankind we very early recognise the child's tendency to sympathise with persons who are familiar to it (Compayré, _L'évolution intellectuelle et morale de l'enfant_, p. 288).] But the members of the group do not merely take pleasure in each other's company. Associated animals very frequently display a feeling of affection for each other--defend each other, help each other in distress and danger, perform various other services for each other.[37] Considering that the very object of the gregarious instinct is the preservation of the species, I think we are obliged to regard the mutual affection of associated animals as a development of this instinct. With the pleasure they take in each other's company is intimately connected kindliness towards its cause, the companion himself. In this explanation of social affection I believe no further step can be made. Professor Bain asks why a more lively feeling should grow up towards a fellow-being than towards an {198} inanimate source of pleasure; and to account for this he suggests, curiously enough, "the primary and independent pleasure of the animal embrace"[38]--although embrace even as an outward expression of affection plays a very insignificant part in the social relations of gregarious animals. It might as well be asked why there should be a more lively feeling towards a sentient creature which inflicts pain than towards an inanimate cause of pain. Both cases call for a similar explanation. The animal distinguishes between a living being and a lifeless thing, and affection proper, like anger proper, is according to its very nature felt towards the former only. The object of anger is normally an enemy, the object of social affection is normally a friend. Social affection is not only greatly increased by reciprocity of feeling, but could never have come into existence without such reciprocity. The being to which an animal attaches itself is conceived of as kindly disposed towards it; hence among wild animals social affection is found only in connection with the gregarious instinct, which is reciprocal in nature. [Footnote 37: Darwin, _op. cit._ p. 100 _sqq._ Kropotkin, _Mutual Aid_, ch. i. _sq._] [Footnote 38: Bain, _op. cit._ p. 132.] Among men the members of the same social unit are tied to each other with various bonds of a distinctly human character--the same customs, laws, institutions, magic or religious ceremonies and beliefs, or notions of a common descent. As men generally are fond of that to which they are used or which is their own, they are also naturally apt to have likings for other individuals whose habits or ideas are similar to theirs. The intensity and extensiveness of social affection thus in the first place depend upon the coherence and size of the social aggregate, and its development must consequently be studied in connection with the evolution of such aggregates. This evolution is largely influenced by economic conditions. Savages who know neither cattle-rearing nor agriculture, but subsist on what nature gives them--game, fish, fruit, roots, and so forth--mostly live in single families consisting of parents and children, or in larger {199} family groups including in addition a few other individuals closely allied.[39] But even among these savages the isolation of the families is not complete. Persons of the same stock inhabiting neighbouring districts hold friendly relations with one another, and unite for the purpose of common defence. When the younger branches of a family are obliged to disperse in search of food, at least some of them remain in the neighbourhood of the parent family, preserve their language, and never quite lose the idea of belonging to one and the same social group. And in some cases we find that people in the hunting or fishing stage actually live in larger communities, and have a well-developed social organisation. This is the case with many or most of the Australian aborigines. Though in Australia, also, isolated families are often met with,[40] the rule seems to be that the blacks live in hordes. Thus the Arunta of Central Australia are distributed in a large number of small local groups, each of which occupies a given area of country and has its own headman.[41] Every family, consisting of a man and one or more wives and children, has a separate lean-to of shrubs;[42] but clusters of these shelters are always found in spots where food is more or less easily obtainable,[43] and the members of each group are bound together by a strong "local feeling."[44] The local influence makes itself felt even outside the horde. "Without belonging to the same group," say Messrs. Spencer and Gillen, "men who inhabit localities close to one another are more closely associated than men living at a distance from one another, and, as a matter of fact, this local bond is strongly marked. . . . Groups which are contiguous locally are constantly meeting to perform ceremonies."[45] At the time when the series of initiation ceremonies called the _Engwura_ are performed, men and women gather together from all parts of the tribe, councils of the elder {200} men are held day by day, the old traditions of the tribe are repeated and discussed, and "it is by means of meetings such as this, that a knowledge of the unwritten history of the tribe and of its leading members is passed on from generation to generation."[46] Nay, even members of different tribes often have friendly intercourse with each other; in Central Australia, when two tribes come into contact with one another on the border-land of their respective territories, the same amicable feelings as prevail within the tribe are maintained between the members of the two.[47] Now it seems extremely probable that Australian blacks are so much more sociable than most other hunting people because the food-supply of their country is naturally more plentiful, or, partly thanks to their boomerangs, more easily attainable. A Central Australian native is, as a general rule, well nourished; "kangaroo, rock-wallabies, emus, and other forms of game are not scarce, and often fall a prey to his spear and boomerang, while smaller animals, such as rats and lizards, are constantly caught without any difficulty by the women."[48] Circumstances of an economic character also account for the gregariousness of the various peoples on the north-west coast of North America who are neither pastoral nor agricultural--the Thlinkets, Haidas, Nootkas, and others. On the shore of the sea or some river they have permanent houses, each of which is inhabited by a number of families;[49] the houses are grouped in villages, some of which are very populous;[50] and though the tribal bond is not conspicuous for its strength, there are councils which discuss and decide all important questions concerning the tribe.[51] The territory inhabited by these peoples, with its bays, sounds, and rivers, supplies them with food in abundance; "its enormous wealth of fish allows its inhabitants to enjoy a pampered existence."[52] [Footnote 39: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 43 _sqq._ Hildebrand, _Recht und Sitte_, p. 1 _sqq._] [Footnote 40: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 45.] [Footnote 41: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 8 _sqq._] [Footnote 42: _Ibid._ p. 18.] [Footnote 43: _Ibid._ p. 31.] [Footnote 44: _Ibid._ p. 544.] [Footnote 45: _Ibid._ p. 14.] [Footnote 46: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 272.] [Footnote 47: _Ibid._ p. 32.] [Footnote 48: _Ibid._ pp. 7, 44.] [Footnote 49: Boas, in _Fifth Report on the North-Western Tribes of Canada_, p. 22.] [Footnote 50: Krause (_Die Tlinkit-Indianer_, p. 100) speaks of a Thlinket village which consisted of sixty-five houses and five or six hundred inhabitants.] [Footnote 51: Boas, _loc. cit._ p. 36 _sq._] [Footnote 52: Ratzel, _History of Mankind_, ii. 92.] {201} To pastoral people sociality, up to a certain degree, is of great importance. They have not only to defend their own persons against their enemies, but they have also to protect valuable property, their cattle. Moreover, they are often anxious to increase their wealth by robbing their neighbours of cattle, and this is best done in company. But at the same time a pastoral community is never large, and, though cohesive so long as it exists, it is liable to break up into sections. The reason for this is that a certain spot can pasture only a limited stock of cattle. The thirteenth chapter of Genesis well illustrates the social difficulties experienced by pastoral peoples. Abraham went up out of Egypt together with his wife and all that he had, and Lot went with him. Abraham was very rich in cattle, and Lot also had flocks, and herds, and tents. But "the land was not able to bear them, that they might dwell together: for their substance was great, so that they could not dwell together"; they were obliged to separate.[53] [Footnote 53: _Genesis_, xiii. 1 _sqq._ See Hildebrand, _op. cit._ p. 29 _sq._; Grosse, _Die Formen der Familie_, pp. 99, 100, 124 _sq._] The case is different with people subsisting on agriculture. A certain piece of land can support a much larger number of persons when it is cultivated than when it consists merely of pasture ground. Its resources largely depend on the labour bestowed on it, and the more people the more labour. The soil also constitutes a tie which cannot be loosened. It is a kind of property which, unlike cattle, is immovable; hence even where individual ownership in land prevails, the heirs to an estate have to remain together. As a matter of fact, the social union of agricultural communities is very close, and the households are often enormous.[54] [Footnote 54: See Grosse, _op. cit._ p. 136 _sqq._] But living together is not the only factor which, among savages, establishes a social unit. Such a unit may be based not only on local proximity, but on marriage or a common descent; it may consist not only of persons who live together in the same district, but of persons who are of the same family, or who are, or consider themselves to be, {202} of the same kin. These different modes of organisation often, in a large measure, coincide. The family is a social unit made up of persons who are either married or related by blood, and at the same time, in normal cases, live together. The tribe is a social unit, though often a very incoherent one,[55] consisting of persons who inhabit the same district and also, at least in many cases, regard themselves as descendants of some common ancestor. The clan, which is essentially a body of kindred having a common name, may likewise on the whole coincide with the population of a certain territory, with the members of one or more hordes or villages. This is the case where the husband takes his wife to his own community and descent is reckoned through the father, or where he goes to live in his wife's community and descent is reckoned through the mother. But frequently the system of maternal descent is combined with the custom of the husband taking his wife to his own home, and this, in connection with the rule of clan-exogamy, occasions a great discrepancy between the horde and the clan. The local group is then by no means a group of clansmen; the children, live in their father's community, but belong to their mother's clan, whilst the next generation of children within the community must belong to another clan.[56] [Footnote 55: See Cunow, _Die Verwandtschafts-Organisationen der Australneger_, p. 121, n. 1.] [Footnote 56: _Cf._ Giddings, _Principles of Sociology_, p. 259.] Kinship certainly gives rise to special rights and duties, but when unsupported by local proximity it loses much of its social force. Among the Australian natives, for instance, the clan rules seem generally to be concerned with little or nothing else than marriage, sexual intercourse, and, perhaps, blood-revenge.[57] "The object of caste" (clan), says Mr. Curr, "is not to create or define a bond of union, but to secure the absence of any blood relationship between {203} persons proposed to marry. So far from being a bond of friendship, no Black ever hesitates to kill one of another tribe because he happens to bear the same caste- (clan-) name as himself."[58] It appears that the system of descent itself is largely influenced by local connections.[59] Sir E. B. Tylor has found by means of his statistical method that the number of coincidences between peoples among whom the husband lives with the wife's family and peoples who reckon kinship through the mother only, is proportionally large, and that the full maternal system never appears among peoples whose exclusive custom is for the husband to take his wife to his own home;[60] and I have myself drawn attention to the fact that where the two customs, the woman receiving her husband in her own hut and the man taking his wife to his, occur side by side among the same people, descent in the former case is traced through the mother, in the latter through the father.[61] Nay, even where kinship constitutes a tie between persons belonging to different local groups, its social force is ultimately derived not merely from the idea of a common origin, but from near relatives' habit of living together. Men became gregarious by remaining in the circle where they were born; if, instead of keeping together with their kindred, they had preferred to isolate themselves or to unite with strangers, there would certainly be no blood-bond at all. The mutual attachment and the social rights and duties which resulted from this gregarious condition were associated with the relation in which members of the group stood to one another--the relation of kinship as expressed by a common name,--and these associations might last even after the local tie was broken. By means of the name former connections were kept up. Even we ourselves are generally more disposed to count kin with distant relatives who have our own surname than with relatives who have a different name; and still greater is the influence which language in this respect exercises on the mind of a savage, {204} to whom a person's name is part of his personality. The derivative origin of the social force in kinship accounts for its formal character, when personal intercourse is wanting; it may enjoin duties, but hardly inspires much affection. If in modern society much less importance is attached to kinship than at earlier stages of civilisation, this is largely due to the fact that relatives, except the nearest, have little communication with each other. And if, as Aristotle observes, friendship between kinsfolk varies according to the degree of relationship,[62] it does so in the first instance on account of the varying intimacy of their mutual intercourse. [Footnote 57: Cunow, _op. cit._ pp. 97, 136. Dr. Stirling says (_Report of the Horn Expedition to Central Australia_, 'Anthropology,' p. 43) that the laws arising out of the "class" (clan) divisions "have extraordinary force and are, in general, implicitly obeyed whether in respect of actual marriage, illicit connections, or social relations"; but I find no further reference to these "social relations."] [Footnote 58: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 69.] [Footnote 59: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 107 _sqq._] [Footnote 60: Tylor, 'Method of Investigating the Development of Institutions,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xviii. 258.] [Footnote 61: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 110.] [Footnote 62: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, viii. 12. 7.] A very different explanation of the social influence of kinship has been given by Mr. Hartland. He connects it with primitive superstition. A clan, he says, "is regarded as an unity, literally and not metaphorically one body, the individual members of which are as truly portions as the fingers or the legs are portions of the external, visible body of each of them." Now, a severed limb or lock of hair is believed by the savage to remain in some invisible but real union with the body whereof it once, in outward appearance also, formed a part, and any injury done to it is supposed to affect the organism to which it belonged. "The individual member of a clan was in exactly the same position as a lock of hair cut from the head, or an amputated limb. He had no separate significance, no value apart from his kin. . . . Injury inflicted on him was inflicted on, and was felt by, the whole kin, just as an injury inflicted on the severed lock or limb was felt by the bulk."[63] Mr. Hartland insists upon a literal interpretation of his words;[64] and this implies that the members of a clan are in their behaviour influenced by the idea that what happens to one of them reacts upon all. [Footnote 63: Hartland, _Legend of Perseus_, ii. 277.] [Footnote 64: _Ibid._ ii. 236, 398, 444.] In support of his theory Mr. Hartland makes reference to the belief of some savages, that charms may be made from dead bodies against the surviving relatives of the deceased,[65] and to certain rites of healing in which, besides the patient himself, "other members of his tribe, presumably kinsmen," take part.[66] But the former belief is a superstition connected with the wonder of death, from which no conclusion must be drawn as {205} to relations between the living; and in the ceremonies of healing the medicine-man plays a much more prominent part than the other bystanders--whose relationship to the patient, besides, is so little marked that Mr. Hartland only presumes them to be kindred. He further observes that in the wide-spread custom of the Couvade we meet with the idea that the child, being a part of the father, is liable to be affected by various acts committed by him.[67] And from Sir J. G. Frazer's 'Golden Bough' might be quoted many instances of a belief in some mysterious bond of sympathy knitting together absent friends and relations--especially at critical times of life--which has, in particular, led to rules regulating the conduct of persons left at home while a party of their friends is out fishing or hunting or on the war path.[68] But all these rules are taboo restrictions of a definite and altogether special kind, generally, it seems, referring to members of the same family, and frequently to wives in their husbands' absence. In order to make his hypothesis acceptable, Mr. Hartland ought to have produced a fair number of facts proving that the members of the same clan really are believed to be connected with each other in such a manner, that whatever affects one of them at the same time in a mysterious way affects the rest. But we look in vain for a single well-established instance of such a belief. [Footnote 65: _Ibid._ ii. 437 _sq._] [Footnote 66: _Ibid._ ii. 432 _sqq._] [Footnote 67: Hartland, _Legend of Perseus_, ii. 406.] [Footnote 68: Frazer, _Golden Bough_, i. 27 _sqq._ See also Haddon, _Magic and Fetishism_, p. 11 _sq._] It seems that the importance which savages attach to a common blood has been much exaggerated. Clanship is based on a method of counting descent by means of names, either through the father or through the mother, but not through both at once. This, however, by no means implies that the other line is not recognised as a line of blood-relationship. The paternal system of descent is not necessarily associated with the idea that the mother has no share in parentage, nor is the maternal system necessarily associated with unconsciousness of the child's relation to its father;[69] even the Couvade, which assumes the recognition of a most intimate relationship between the child and its father, has been found to prevail among some peoples who regard the child as a member of the mother's clan.[70] Nay, there are instances in which the clan-bond is obviously {206} not regarded as a blood-bond at all, in the strict sense of the word. Of some tribes in New South Wales Mr. Cameron tells us that, although a daughter belongs not to her father's clan but to that of her mother's brother, they believe that she emanates from her father solely, being only nurtured by her mother;[71] and the Arunta of Central Australia, who have the paternal system of descent, maintain that a child really descends neither from its father nor from its mother, but is the reincarnation of a mythical totem-ancestor.[72] Their theory is "that the child is not the direct result of intercourse, that it may come without this, which merely, as it were, prepares the mother for the reception and birth also of an already-formed spirit child who inhabits one of the local totem centres";[73] and its totem-name, which is derived from the spot where it is supposed to have been conceived,[74] is different from its clan-name. It is useful to scrutinise Mr. Hartland's theory in the light of this class of facts. They evidently prove that clanship and what we are used to call the system of counting "descent," is not necessarily based on the notion of actual blood-relationship, but on kinship as a fact combined with a name; whereas Mr. Hartland's hypothesis presupposes, not that the members of a clan really are, but that they consider themselves to be all of one blood. [Footnote 69: Mr. Swan informs me that the Waguha of West Tanganyika, among whom children are generally named after their father, recognise the part taken by both parents in generation; and Archdeacon Hodgson writes the same concerning certain other tribes of Eastern Central Africa, who trace descent through the mother.] [Footnote 70: Ling Roth, 'Signification of Couvade,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxii. 227, 238.] [Footnote 71: Cameron, 'Notes on some Tribes of New South Wales,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xiv. 352.] [Footnote 72: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, ch. iv. especially pp. 121, 124.] [Footnote 73: _Ibid._ p. 265.] [Footnote 74: _Ibid._ p. 124 _sqq._] Yet another practice has been adduced as evidence of the supreme importance which the primitive clan is supposed to attach to unity in blood--the so-called blood-covenant. The members of a clan, Mr. Hartland observes, may not be all descended from a common ancestry. Though descent is the normal, the typical cause of kinship and a common blood, kinship may also be acquired. "To acquire kinship, the blood of the candidate for admission into the kin must be mingled with that of the kin. In this way he enters into the brotherhood, is reckoned as of the same stock, obtains the full privileges of a kinsman."[75] As Professor Robertson Smith puts it, "he who has drunk a clansman's blood is no longer a stranger but a brother, and included in the mystic circle of those who have a share in the life-blood that is common to all the clan."[76] Mr. Hartland gives us a short account of the rite:--"It is sufficient that an incision be made in the neophyte's arm and the flowing blood sucked from it by one of the clansmen, upon whom the {207} operation is repeated in turn by the neophyte. Originally, perhaps, the clansmen all assembled and partook of the rite; but if so, the necessity has ceased to be recognised almost everywhere. The form, indeed, has undergone numberless variations. . . . But, whatever may be the exact form adopted, the essence of the rite is the same, and its range is world-wide." Then there follows a list of peoples from various quarters of the world among whom it is said to prevail.[77] [Footnote 75: Hartland, _op. cit._ ii. 237.] [Footnote 76: Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 315.] [Footnote 77: Hartland, _op. cit._ 237 _sqq._] From this the reader undoubtedly gets the impression that the mingling of blood is a frequently practised ceremony of adoption, by which a person is admitted into a strange clan. But the facts stated by the chief authorities on the subject, to whom Mr. Hartland refers, prove nothing of the kind. In most cases with which we are acquainted the mingling of blood is a form of covenant between individuals, although an engagement with a chief or king naturally embraces his subjects also; and sometimes the covenanters are tribes or kingdoms. But of the "world-wide" adoption rite there is hardly a single instance which corresponds to Mr. Hartland's description. He admits himself that "in the same measure as the clan relaxed its hold upon the individual members, blood-brotherhood assumed a personal aspect, until, having no longer any social force, it came to be regarded as merely the most solemn and binding form of covenant between man and man."[78] His account of the blood-covenant is, in fact, only an inference based on the assumption that the existing rite is a survival from times when the clan was literally one body and the individual nothing but an amputated limb. But to regard the present blood-covenant as a survival of a previous rite of adoption into the clan is not justified by facts. So far as I know, there is no record of a blood-covenant among savages of the lowest type, unless the aborigines of Australia be included among them; and in Australia it is certainly not a ceremony of adoption. Among the Arunta it is intended to prevent treachery: "if, for example, an Alice Springs party wanted to go on an avenging expedition to the Burt country, and they had with them in camp a man of that locality, he would be forced to drink blood with them, and, having partaken of it, would be bound not to aid his friends by giving them warning of their danger."[79] This instance is instructive. The Australian native is obliged to help those with whom he has drunk blood against his own relatives, nay, against members of his own totem group. So also "the tie {208} of blood-covenanting is reckoned in the East even a closer tie than that of natural descent,"[80] and the same was the case among the ancient Scandinavians.[81] I do not see how Mr. Hartland's theory can account for this. [Footnote 78: _Ibid._ ii. 240.] [Footnote 79: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, p. 461.] [Footnote 80: Trumbull, _Blood Covenant_, p. 10.] [Footnote 81: Maurer, _Bekehrung des Norwegischen Stammes_, ii. 171.] Mingling of blood is sometimes supposed to be a direct cause of mutual sympathy and agreement, in accordance with the principle of transmission of properties by contact;[82] even in Europe there are traces of the belief that a few drops of blood transferred from one person to another inspire the recipient with friendly feelings towards him with whose blood he is inoculated.[83] But the genuine blood-covenant imposes duties on both parties, and also contains the potential punishment for their transgression. It involves a promise, and the transference of blood is vaguely or distinctly supposed to convey to the person who drinks it, or who is inoculated with it, a conditional curse which will injure or destroy him should he break his promise. That this is the main idea underlying the blood-covenant appears from the fact that it is regularly accompanied by curses or self-imprecations.[84] In Madagascar, for instance, when two or more persons have agreed on forming the bond of fraternity, a fowl is procured, its head is nearly cut off, and it is left in this state to continue bleeding during the ceremony. The parties then pronounce a long imprecation and mutual vow over the blood, saying, _inter alia_ "O this miserable fowl weltering in its blood! thy liver do we eat, thy liver do we eat; and should either of us retract from the terms of this oath, let him instantly become a fool, let him instantly become blind, let this covenant prove a curse to him." A small portion of blood is then drawn from each individual and drunk by the covenanting parties with execrations of vengeance on each other in case of either violating the sacred oath.[85] According to another description the parties, after they have drunk each other's blood, drink a mixture from the same bowl, praying that it may turn into {209} poison for him who fails to keep the oath.[86] As we have seen before, blood is commonly regarded as a particularly efficient conductor of curses, and what could in this respect be more excellent than the blood of the very person who utters the curse? But the blood of a victim sacrificed on the occasion may serve the same purpose, or some other suitable vehicle may be chosen to transfer the imprecation. The Masai in the old days "spat at a man with whom they swore eternal friendship";[87] and the meaning of this seems clear when we hear that they spit copiously when cursing, and that "if a man while cursing spits in his enemy's eyes, blindness is supposed to follow."[88] The ancient Arabs, besides swearing alliance and protection by dipping their hands in a pan of blood and tasting the contents, had a covenant known as the _[h.]ilf al-fo[d.]ûl_, which was made by taking Zemzem water and washing the corners of the Ka[(]ba with it, whereafter it was drunk by the parties concerned.[89] The blood-covenant is essentially based on the same idea as underlies the Moorish custom of sealing a compact of friendship by a common meal at the tomb of some saint, the meaning of which is obvious from the phrase that "the food will repay" him who breaks the compact.[90] [Footnote 82: _Cf._ Crawley, _Mystic Rose_, p. 236 _sq._] [Footnote 83: von Wlislocki, 'Menschenblut im Glauben der Zigeuner,' in _Am Ur-Quell_, iii. 64. Dörfler, 'Das Blut im magyarischen Volkglauben,' _ibid._ iii. 269 _sq._] [Footnote 84: Forbes, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_, p. 452 (natives of Timor). Burns, 'Kayans of the North-West of Borneo,' in _Jour. of the Indian Archipelago_, iii. 146 _sq._ New, _Life, Wanderings, and Labours in Eastern Africa_, p. 364 (Taveta). Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, p. 494 (Wakamba). Trumbull, _op. cit._ pp. 9, 20, 31, 42, 45-47, 53, 61 _sq._ For the practice of sealing an agreement by transference of blood accompanied by an oath, see also Partridge, _Cross River Natives_, p. 191 (pagans of Obubura Hill district in Southern Nigeria).] [Footnote 85: Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, 187 _sqq._] [Footnote 86: Dumont d'Urville, _Voyage pittoresque autour du monde_, i. 81.] [Footnote 87: Hinde, _Last of the Masai_, p. 47. See also Johnston, _Uganda_, ii. 833.] [Footnote 88: Hinde, _op. cit._ p. 48.] [Footnote 89: Robertson Smith, _Marriage and Kinship in Early Arabia_, p. 56 _sqq._ _Cf._ Herodotus, iii. 8.] [Footnote 90: See _supra_, i. 587. According to another theory the inoculated blood is regarded as a pledge or deposit, which compels the person from whom it was drawn to be faithful to the person to whom it was transferred. Suppose that two individuals, A and B, become "blood-brothers" by mutual inoculation. Each, then, Mr. Crawley argues (_Mystic Rose_, p. 236 _sq._), has a part of the other in his keeping, each has "given himself away" to the other in a very real sense; and the possibility of mutual treachery or wrong is prevented both by the fact that injury done to B by A is considered equivalent to injury done by A to himself, and also by the belief that if B is wronged he may work vengeance by injuring the part of A which he possesses. To this explanation, however, serious objections may be raised. The belief in sympathetic magic does not imply that injury done to B by A is _eo ipso_ supposed to affect A himself through that part of him which has been deposited in B; it does not imply that two things which have once been conjoined remain, when quite dissevered from each other, in such a relation that "whatever is done to the one must similarly affect the other" (Frazer, _Golden Bough_, i. 49), unless there is an intention to this effect in the agent. The severed part then serves as a medium by which magic influence is transferred to the whole. Again, it is difficult to see how B could injure A through the part of him which he possesses when that part has been absorbed into his own system, as must be the case with those few drops of A's blood with which he was inoculated.] Besides marriage, local proximity, and a common descent, a common worship may tie people together into {210} social union. But among savages a religious community generally coincides with a community of some other kind. There are tutelary gods of families, clans, and tribes;[91] and a purely local group may also form a religious community by itself. Major Ellis observes that with some two or three exceptions all the gods worshipped by the Tshi-speaking tribes on the Gold Coast are exclusively local and have a limited area of worship. If they are nature-gods they are bound up with the natural objects they animate, if they are ghost-gods they are localised by the place of sepulture, and if they are tutelary deities whose origin has been forgotten their position is necessarily fixed by that of the town, village, or family they protect; in any case they are worshipped only by those who live in the neighbourhood, the only exceptions being the sky-god, the earthquake-god, and the goddess of the silkcotton trees, who are worshipped everywhere.[92] [Footnote 91: See _infra_, ch. l.] [Footnote 92: Ellis, _Yoruba-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast_, p. 284 _sq._ For various instances of village gods see Turner, _Samoa_, p. 18; Crozet, _Voyage to Tasmania, &c._ p. 45 (Maoris); Christian, _Caroline Islands_, p. 75 (natives of Ponape); Grierson, _Bih[=a]r Peasant Life_, p. 403 _sqq._] When the religious community is thus at the same time a family, clan, village, or tribe, it is of course impossible exactly to distinguish the social influence of the common religion from that exercised by marriage, local proximity, or a common descent. It seems, however, that the importance of the religious bond, or at least of the totem bond, has been somewhat exaggerated by a certain school of anthropologists. We are told that in early society "each member of the kin testifies and renews his union with the rest" by taking part in a sacrificial meal in which the totem god is eaten by his worshippers.[93] But no satisfactory evidence has ever been given in support of this theory. Sir J. G. Frazer knows only one certain case of a totem sacrament, namely, that prevalent among the Arunta and some other tribes in Central Australia,[94] who at the time of Intichiuma are in the habit of killing and eating totem animals; and this practice has nothing whatever {211} to do with the mutual relations between kindred. Its object is only to multiply in a magic manner the animals of certain species for the purpose of increasing the food-supply for other totemic groups.[95] In his book on Totemism Frazer writes:--"The totem bond is stronger than the bond of blood or family in the modern sense. This is expressly stated of the clans of western Australia and of north-western America, and is probably true of all societies where totemism exists in full force. Hence in totem tribes every local group, being necessarily composed (owing to exogamy) of members of at least two totem clans, is liable to be dissolved at any moment into its totem elements by the outbreak of a blood feud, in which husband and wife must always (if the feud is between their clans) be arrayed on opposite sides, and in which the children will be arrayed against either their father or their mother, according as descent is traced through the mother, or through the father."[96] In the two or three cases which Frazer quotes in support of his statement[97] the totemic group is identical with the clan; hence it is impossible to decide whether the strength of the tie which unites its members is due to the totem relationship or to the common descent. But even the combined clan and totem systems seem at most only in exceptional cases to lead to such consequences as are indicated by Frazer's authorities. With reference to the Australian aborigines Mr. Curr observes:--"Of the children of one father being at war with him, or with each other, on the ground of maternal relationship, or any other ground, my inquiries and experience supply no instances. To Captain Grey's statements, indeed, there are several objections."[98] [Footnote 93: Hartland, _op. cit._ ii. 236.] [Footnote 94: Frazer, _Golden Bough_, i. p. xix. _Cf._ _Idem_, _Totemism and Exogamy_, iv. 230 _sqq._] [Footnote 95: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, ch. vi. _Iidem_, _Northern Tribes of Central Australia_, ch. ix. _sq._] [Footnote 96: Frazer, _Totemism_, p. 57.] [Footnote 97: Grey, _Journals of Expeditions in North-West and Western Australia_, ii. 230. Petroff, _Report on Alaska_, p. 165. Hardisty, 'Loucheux Indians,' in _Smithsonian Report_, 1866, p. 315.] [Footnote 98: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 67. In Hardisty's statement, referring to the Loucheux Indians, there is a conspicuous lack of definiteness. He says:--"In war it was not tribe against tribe, but division against division, and as the children were never of the same caste (clan) as the father, the children would, of course, be against the father and the father against the children. . . . This, however, was not likely to occur very often, as the worst of parents would have naturally preferred peace to war with his own children." Petroff's passage concerning the Thlinkets, referred to by Sir J. G. Frazer, simply runs:--"The ties of the totem or clanship are considered far stronger than those of blood relationship."] {212} Among the Arunta and some other Central Australian tribes we have fortunately an opportunity of studying the social influence of totemism apart from that of clanship, the division into totems being quite independent of the clan system. The whole district of a tribe may be mapped out into a large number of areas of various sizes, each of which centres in one or more spots where, in the dim past, certain mythical ancestors are said to have originated or camped during their wanderings, and where their spirits are still supposed to remain, associated with sacred stones, which the ancestors used to carry about with them. From these spirits have sprung, and still continue to spring, actual men and women, the members of the various totems being their reincarnations. At the spots where they remained, the ancestral spirits enter the bodies of women, and in consequence a child must belong to the totem of the spot at which the mother believes that it was conceived. A result of this is that no one totem is confined to the members of a particular clan or sub-clan,[99] and that though most members of a given horde or local group belong to the same totemic group, there is no absolute coincidence between these two kinds of organisation.[100] How, then, does the fact that two persons belong to the same totem influence their social relationships? "In these tribes," say Messrs. Spencer and Gillen, "there is no such thing as the members of one totem being bound together in such a way that they must combine to fight on behalf of a member of the totem to which they belong. . . . The men to assist a particular man in a quarrel are those of his locality, and not of necessity those of the same totem as himself, indeed the latter consideration does not enter into account and in this as in other matters we see the strong {213} development of what we have called the 'local influence.' . . . The men who assist him are his brothers, blood and tribal, the sons of his mother's brothers, blood and tribal. That is, if he be a Panunga man he will have the assistance of the Panunga and Ungalla men of his locality, while if it comes to a general fight he will have the help of the whole of his local group. . . . It is only indeed during the performance of certain ceremonies that the existence of a mutual relationship, consequent upon the possession of a common totemic name, stands out at all prominently. In fact, it is perfectly easy to spend a considerable time amongst the Arunta tribe without even being aware that each individual has a totemic name."[101] [Footnote 99: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, ch. iv.] [Footnote 100: _Ibid._ pp. 9, 32, 34.] [Footnote 101: Spencer and Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_, pp. 34, 544.] When from the savage and barbarous races of men we pass to peoples of a higher culture, as they first appear to us in the light of history, we meet among them social units similar in kind to those prevalent at lower stages of civilisation: the family, clan, village, tribe. We also find among them, side by side with the family consisting of parents and children, a larger family organisation, which, though not unknown among the lower races, assumes particular prominence in the archaic State. In China the family generally remains undivided till the children of the younger sons are beginning to grow up. Then the younger branches of the family separate, and form their own households. But the new householders continue to take part in the ancestral worship of the old home; and mourning is worn in theory for four generations of ascendants and descendants in the direct line, and for contemporaries descended in the same fifth generation from the "honoured head" of the family.[102] At the same time we find in China at least traces of a clan organisation. Large bodies of persons bear the same surname, and a penalty is inflicted on anyone who marries a person with the same surname as his own, whilst a man is strictly forbidden to nominate as his heir {214} an individual of a different surname.[103] Moreover, there are whole villages composed of relatives all bearing the same ancestral name. "In many cases," says Mr. Doolittle, "for a long period of time no division of inherited property is made in rural districts, the descendants of a common ancestor living or working together, enjoying and sharing the profits of their labours under the general direction and supervision of the head of the clan and the heads of the family branches. . . . There may be only one head of the clan. Under him there are several heads of families."[104] [Footnote 102: Simcox, _Primitive Civilizations_, ii. 303, 493, 69.] [Footnote 103: Medhurst, 'Marriage, Affinity, and Inheritance in China,' in _Trans. Roy. Asiatic Soc. China Branch_, iv. 21, 22, 29.] [Footnote 104: Doolittle, _Social Life of the Chinese_, ii. 225 _sqq._] The "four generations" of the Chinese, comprising those who are regarded as near relatives, have their counterpart in the family organisation of most so-called Aryan peoples. The Roman Propinqui--that is, parents and children, brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts, nephews and nieces, first cousins (_consobrini_) and second cousins (_sobrini_)--exactly corresponded to the Anchisteis of the Greeks, the Sapindas of the Hindus,[105] and the "Syngeneis" of the Persians.[106] The persons belonging to these four generations stood in a particularly close relationship to each other. They had mutual rights and duties of various kinds. In early times, if one of them was killed, the survivors had to avenge his death. They were expected to assist each other whenever it was needed, especially before the court. They celebrated in common feasts of rejoicing and feasts for the dead. They had a common cult and common mourning. In short, they formed an enlarged family unit of which the individual families were merely sub-branches, even though {215} they did not necessarily live in the same house.[107] In India we still meet with a perishable survival of this organisation. "In the Joint Family of the Hindus," says Sir Henry Maine, ". . . . the agnatic group of the Romans absolutely survives--or rather, but for the English law and English courts, it would survive. Here there is a real, thoroughly ascertained common ancestor, a genuine consanguinity, a common fund of property, a common dwelling."[108] The Gwentian, Dimetian, and Venedotian codes likewise represent the homestead and land of the free Welshman as a family holding. "So long as the head of the family lived," says Mr. Seebohm, "all his descendants lived with him, apparently in the same homestead, unless new ones had already been built for them on the family land. In any case, they still formed part of the joint household of which he was the head. When a free tribesman, the head of a household, died, his holding was not broken up. It was held by his heirs for three generations as one joint holding."[109] So also among the subdivisions of ancient Irish society there was one which comprised the "near relatives," the Propinqui of the Romans.[110] Many of the South Slavonians to this day live in house communities each consisting of a body of from ten to sixty members or even more, who are blood-relations to the second or third degree on the male side, and who associate in a common dwelling or group of dwellings, having their land in common, following a common occupation, and being governed by a common chief.[111] Among the Russians, {216} too, there are households of this kind, containing the representatives of three generations; and previous to the emancipation of the serfs in 1861 such households were much more common than they are now.[112] The ancient Teutons are the only "Aryan" race among whom the joint family organisation cannot be proved to have prevailed.[113] [Footnote 105: _Baudhâyana_, i. 5. 11. 9:--"The great-grandfather, the grandfather, the father, oneself, the uterine brothers, the son by a wife of equal caste, the grandson, and the great-grandson--these they call Sapindas, but not the great-grandson's son." _Laws of Manu_, ix. 186:--"To three ancestors water must be offered, to three the funeral cake is given, the fourth descendant is the giver of these oblations, the fifth has no connection with them." _Cf._ Jolly, 'Recht und Sitte,' in Bühler, _Grundriss der indo-arischen Philologie_, ii. 85.] [Footnote 106: Brissonius, _De regio Persarum principatu_, i. 207, p. 279. Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Civile_, i. 47 _sqq._] [Footnote 107: Klenze, 'Die Cognaten und Affinen nach Römischem Rechte in Vergleichung mit andern verwandten Rechten,' in _Zeitschr. f. geschichtliche Rechtswiss._ vi. 5 _sqq._ Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Civile_, i. 231 _sqq._ Rivier, _Précis du droit de famille romain_, p. 34 _sqq._] [Footnote 108: Maine, _Dissertations on Early Law and Custom_, p. 240.] [Footnote 109: Seebohm, _English Village Community_, p. 193. _Idem_, _Tribal System in Wales_, p. 89 _sqq._] [Footnote 110: Maine, _Early History of Institutions_, p. 90 _sq._ Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Civile_, i. Anhang i.] [Footnote 111: Krauss, _Sitte und Brauch der Südslaven_, pp. 75, 79 _sqq._ Maine, _Dissertations on Early Law and Custom_, p. 241 _sqq._ Utie[vs]enovi['c], _Die Hauskommunionen der Südslaven_, p. 20 _sqq._ Miler, 'Die Hauskommunion der Südslaven,' in _Jahrbuch d. internat. Vereinigung f. vergl. Rechtswiss._ iii. 199 _sqq._] [Footnote 112: Mackenzie Wallace, _Russia_, i. 134. von Hellwald, _Die menschliche Familie_, p. 506 _sq._ Kovalewsky, _Modern Customs and Ancient Laws of Russia_, p. 53 _sq._] [Footnote 113: See Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Civile_, i. Anhang i.] Among all these peoples a number of kindred families or joint families were united into a larger social group forming a village community or a cluster of households. The Vedic people called such a body of kindred _janman[=a]_ or simply _gr[=a]ma_, which means "village";[114] and the same organisation still survives in India, though in a modified form. The type of Indian village communities which has been described by Sir Henry Maine is at once an assemblage of co-proprietors and an organised patriarchal society, providing for the management of the common fund and generally also for internal government, police, the administration of justice, and the apportionment of taxes and public duties. Unlike the joint family, the related families of the village community no longer hold their land as an indistinguishable common fund: they have portioned it out, at most they redistribute it periodically, and are thus on the high road to modern landed proprietorship. And whilst the joint family is a narrow circle of persons actually related to each other, the village community has very generally been adulterated by the admission of strangers, especially purchasers of shares, who have from time to time been engrafted on the original stock of blood-relatives. Yet in all such cases there is the assumption of an original common parentage; hence the Hindu village community of the type indicated, whenever it is not actually an association of kinsmen, is always a body of co-proprietors formed on the model of such an association.[115] [Footnote 114: Zimmer, _Altindisches Leben_, p. 159 _sq._] [Footnote 115: Maine, _Ancient Law_, p. 260 _sqq._ _Idem_, _Dissertations on Early Law and Custom_, p. 240. Elphinstone, _History of India_, p. 68 _sqq._ Mr. Baden-Powell (_Indian Village Community_, p. 3 _sqq._) has shown that Sir Henry Maine's general description of Indian village communities holds true only of a certain class of villages in India.] {217} Corresponding to the Vedic _gr[=a]ma_ there were the Iranian _viç_, the Greek _genos_, and the Roman _gens_; and as among the Vedic people several _gr[=a]mas_ formed a _viç_ and several _viçs_ a _jana_,[116] so the Iranian _viç_, the Greek _genos_, and the Roman _gens_ were, respectively, subdivisions of a _zantu_, _phratria_, and _curia_; and these again were subdivisions of a still more comprehensive unit, a _daqyu_, _phyle_, and _tribus_.[117] The Roman territory was in earliest times divided into a number of clan-districts, each inhabited by a particular _gens_, which was thus a group associated at once by locality and by a common descent. Whilst each household had its own portion of land, the clan-household or village had a clan-land belonging to it, and this clan-land was managed up to a comparatively late period after the analogy of household-land, that is, on the system of joint-possession, each clan tilling its own land and thereafter distributing the produce among the several households belonging to it. Even the traditions of Roman law furnish the information that wealth consisted at first in cattle and the usufruct of the soil, and that it was not till later that land came to be distributed among the burgesses as their own special property.[118] Still in historical times, if a person left no sons or agnates living at his death, the inheritance escheated to the _gentiles_, or entire body of Roman citizens bearing the same name with the deceased, whereas no part of it was given to any relative united, however closely, with the dead man through female descent.[119] But as the Hindu village community, so also the Roman _gens_, though originally a group of blood-relatives inhabiting a common district, was already in early times recruited from men of alien extraction who were assumed to be descended from a common ancestor. And it is difficult to believe {218} that either in Rome or Greece even the fiction of a common origin could be preserved for long when the organisation of the people into gentes, phratries, and tribes was adopted by the State as a system of political division and their numbers were fixed.[120] When the _genos_ and _gens_ first appear to us in history they were mere dwindling survivals, except in one respect: they remained, as they had been from the outset,[121] religious communities long after they had lost all other practical importance. This was especially the case at Athens, where certain reputed gentes for centuries continued to play a prominent part in the religious cult;[122] and the Romans seem to have preserved their _gentilicia sacra_ still in Cicero's time.[123] [Footnote 116: Zimmer, _op. cit._ p. 159 _sq._] [Footnote 117: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 104 _sq._] [Footnote 118: Mommsen, _History of Rome_, i. 45, 46, 238.] [Footnote 119: Maine, _Ancient Law_, p. 220 _sq._ Fustel de Coulanges, _La Cité antique_, p. 126.] [Footnote 120: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 150 _sqq._ It is expressly said that at Athens the members of the same [Greek: ge/nos] were not necessarily regarded as blood-relations (see Bunsen, _De jure hereditario Atheniensium_, p. 104, n. 28).] [Footnote 121: Schoemann, _Griechische Alterthümer_, ii. 548 _sqq._ Marquardt, _Römische Staatsverwaltung_, iii. 126, 130. Fustel de Coulanges, _op. cit._ p. 124 _sqq._] [Footnote 122: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 159 _sq._] [Footnote 123: Cicero, _Pro domo_, 13 (34).] In ancient Wales districts were occupied by tribes under their petty kings or chiefs, and the tribe (_cenedl_) was a bundle of kindreds "bound together and interlocked by common interests and frequent intermarriages, as well as by the necessity of mutual protection against foreign foes."[124] A group of households, again, corresponding to the Roman _gens_ formed a _trev_, which was a cluster of scattered households, "not necessarily a village in the modern sense."[125] The same seems to have been the case with the Teutonic _vici_, spoken of by Tacitus;[126] but that among the Teutons, also, the people of the same neighbourhood were blood-relatives may be directly inferred from a statement made by Cæsar.[127] They were not much addicted to agriculture,[128] and "the dreary world" they inhabited, with its desert aspect, its harsh climate, its lack of cultivation, was not {219} favourable to the formation of permanent large social bodies of great cohesiveness. However, we meet among them social units which Cæsar calls _regiones_ or _pagi_[129] of which the _vici_ may be assumed to have been subdivisions. Among the highly agricultural Slavonians, on the other hand, we find even in the present time a social organisation very similar to that of the Hindus. The South Slavonians, as we have seen, live in house communities corresponding to the joint families in India. Now, when the members of a house community, or _zadruga_--as it is often called--become too numerous, a separation takes place, and the emigrants form new households by themselves. A _zadruga_ is thus gradually expanded into a _bratstvo_, or brotherhood--a group of related house communities which not only feel themselves as branches of the same stock, but still have certain practical interests in common and a common chief. Several _bratstva_, finally, form a _pleme_, or tribe.[130] Among the Russians, again, the family, or joint family, has developed into a _mir_, or village community, composed of an assemblage of separate houses each ruled by its own head, but with a common village chief elected by the heads of the various households. The Russian _mir_ is an institution very similar to the Hindu village community described above. The land belongs to the community, and in earlier days it was probably cultivated in common. At present it is divided between the component families, the lots shifting among them periodically, or perhaps vesting in them as their property, but always subject to a power in the collective body of villagers to veto its sale. Originally the _mir_ was also a group of kindred; but, as in the Hindu village community, the tie of blood has been greatly weakened by all sorts of fictions and the admission of so many strangers that the tradition of a common origin is dim or lost.[131] [Footnote 124: Seebohm, _English Village Community_, p. 190. _Idem_, _Tribal System in Wales_, p. 61.] [Footnote 125: _Idem_, _English Village Community_, p. 343.] [Footnote 126: Tacitus, _Germania_, 16. _Cf._ Hildebrand, _op. cit._ p. 105 _sqq._] [Footnote 127: Cæsar, _De bello Gallico_, vi. 22:--"Magistratus ac princeps in annos singulos gentibus cognationibusque hominum, qui una coierint, quantum, et quo loco visum est, agri attribuunt."] [Footnote 128: _Ibid._ vi. 22.] [Footnote 129: Cæsar, _De bello Gallico_, vi. 23.] [Footnote 130: Krauss, _op. cit._ pp. 2, 32 _sqq._ von Hellwald, _op. cit._ p. 502 _sq._ Grosse, _op. cit._ p. 204 _sq._] [Footnote 131: de Laveleye, _De la propriété_, p. 12 _sqq._ Maine, _Dissertations on Early Law and Custom_, p. 261 _sq._] In the social organisation of all these peoples there is {220} thus originally a general congruity between the principle of local proximity and the principle of descent. On the one hand, all freemen, all true members of the society, who belong to the same local group, are at the same time kinsmen; on the other hand, all persons who are united by the tie of a common descent belong to the same or neighbouring local groups. The cause of this congruity is the universal prevalence of the paternal system of descent. Whether the case was different in prehistoric times is an open question. That the ancient Chinese reckoned kinship through the mother, not through the father, has been conjectured on philological grounds,[132] as to the plausibility of which I can express no opinion. Several writers have also endeavoured to prove that the uterine line of descent prevailed among the primitive Aryans, but the evidence is far from being conclusive. I agree with Professor Leist that all so-called survivals of a system of maternal descent in the prehistoric antiquity of the "Aryan" races are doubtful, if not false.[133] As regards the Teutons, much importance has been attributed to the specially close connection which, according to Tacitus, existed between a sister's children and their mother's brothers;[134] but, as Professor Schrader remarks, in spite of the prominent position of the maternal uncle among Teutonic peoples, the _patruus_ distinctly came before the _avunculus_, the agnates before the cognates, in testamentary succession.[135] The existence of a custom which in some respect recognises uterine relationship does not prove the earlier prevalence of the full maternal system of descent, to the exclusion of the paternal. [Footnote 132: Puini, quoted by Grosse, _op. cit._ p. 193.] [Footnote 133: Leist, _Alt-arisches Jus Gentium_, p. 58. _Idem_, _Alt-arisches Jus Civile_, i. 490.] [Footnote 134: Tacitus, _Germania_, 20.] [Footnote 135: Schrader, _Prehistoric Antiquities of the Aryan Peoples_, p. 395.] Progress in civilisation is up to a certain point connected with social expansion. Among savages the largest permanent social unit is generally the tribe, and even the tribal bond is often very loose, if not entirely wanting. It is true that associations of tribes occur even among so {221} low a race as the Australian aborigines, but unaccompanied by any kind of political organisation.[136] At a somewhat higher stage we meet with the famous league of the Iroquois--a federation on republican principles of five distinct tribes, which could point to three centuries of uninterrupted domestic unity and peace[137]--and the kingdoms of various African potentates. Civilisation only thrives in states. From small beginnings round the lake of Mexico the Aztecs gradually succeeded, through conquest, in forming an empire which covered probably almost sixteen thousand square leagues. However, between the various tribes lay broad belts of uninhabited territory, which enabled them to keep up a shy and exclusive attitude towards each other; and at the time of the Spanish conquest the empire of Mexico was, in fact, little more than "a chain of intimidated Indian tribes, who, kept apart from each other under the influence of mutual timidity, were held down by dread of attacks from an unassailable robber-stronghold in their midst."[138] In South America, in a long course of ages, six nations inhabited the region which extends from the water-parting between the basins of the Huallaga and Ucayali to that between the basins of the Ucayali and Lake Titicaca. When increasing population brought them in contact with each other, a struggle for supremacy ended in the mastery of the fittest--the Incas; and the empire of the latter was subsequently extended by the subjugation of a variety of other nations or tribes.[139] The extent of territory claimed for ancient China by the earliest records is more than double the size of modern France, and, though it was often divided into different states, the great dynasties ruled over the whole of it.[140] The two crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt were united at a {222} very early date; and no less imposing was the great kingdom of Babylon and Assur. We may assume that all these empires were formed by an association, either voluntary or forcible, of different tribes, as was the case with those states with whose origin and early growth we are somewhat better acquainted. As late as the time of the Judges the tribes of Israel either stood each entirely alone or formed smaller groups, and there was no such thing as an Israelitish nation in a political sense until the unity of the people came into being under Samuel and the first kings.[141] The Vedic people consisted of a great number of independent tribes, between which only temporary alliances were made for the sake of defence or attack. But gradually the alliances grew more permanent; war-kings united several tribes, surrounded themselves with a military nobility, and founded great kingdoms.[142] In Greece and Italy the states grew out of forts which had been built on elevated places to serve as common strongholds or places of refuge in case of war. Several tribes united so as to be better able to resist dangerous enemies, and one of the fortified towns in time gained supremacy over all others in the neighbourhood, as Athens did in Attica and Alba Longa in Latium. Similar districts, ruled by a town, were called _poleis_ or _civitates_.[143] In historical times attempts were made to carry this process further by joining several of the small states under the rule of one. In this Sparta and Athens failed, whereas the efforts of Rome met with unequalled success. [Footnote 136: Curr, _The Australian Race_, i. 62 _sq._] [Footnote 137: Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 141.] [Footnote 138: Scheppig, 'Ancient Mexicans,' &c. p. 6, in Spencer's _Descriptive Sociology_. Prescott, _History of the Conquest of Mexico_, p. 4. Ratzel, _History of Mankind_, ii. 199, 202.] [Footnote 139: Markham, 'Geographical Positions of the Tribes which formed the Empire of the Yncas,' in _Jour. Roy. Geo. Soc._ xli. 287 _sqq._] [Footnote 140: Simcox, _op. cit._ ii. 10, 13.] [Footnote 141: Kuenen, _Religion of Israel_, i. 133.] [Footnote 142: Zimmer, _Altindisches Leben_, pp. 158, 192 _sq._] [Footnote 143: Leist, _Græco-italische Rechtsgeschichte_, p. 109 _sqq._] The development of the State tended to weaken or destroy the smaller units of which it was composed. The central power, hostile to separatism, naturally endeavoured to appropriate the authority invested in the latter, and in a well-governed state these on their part had little reason to resist. The main object of the clan, phratry, and tribe was to protect their respective members; hence they became superfluous in the presence of a powerful national {223} government which unselfishly and impartially looked after the interests of its various subjects. Adam Smith contrasts the strong clan-feeling which still in the eighteenth century prevailed among the Scotch Highlanders with the little regard felt for remote relatives by the English, and observes that in countries where the authority of the law is not sufficiently strong to give security to every member of the State the different branches of the same family choose to live in the neighbourhood of one another, their association being frequently necessary for their common defence; whereas in a country like England, where the authority of the law was well established, "the descendants of the same family, having no such motive for keeping together, naturally separate and disperse, as interest or inclination may direct."[144] It seems also probable that the persistency of the village community or the gentile system among the Hindus and Slavs has been largely due to the weakness of the State or to the badness of the government. [Footnote 144: Smith, _Theory of Moral Sentiments_, p. 326 _sq._] As the larger units, so the family also was influenced by the rise of the State, but originally in quite the opposite direction. Whilst the former dwindled away, the family grew in importance. Nowhere do we find the family-tie stronger, nowhere does the father or eldest male ascendant possess greater power than in the archaic State. In a previous chapter I have already tried to explain this singular fact. I pointed out that in early society there seems to be a certain antagonism between the family and the clan, that the family was strengthened because the clan was weakened, that the father became a patriarch only as the inheritor of the authority which formerly belonged to the clan. But we have also noticed that at a higher stage the family again lost in importance.[145] [Footnote 145: _Supra_, i. 627 _sq._] It seems that the tribes which united into one nation or state were normally, in the first instance, branches of the same stock, living in the same neighbourhood and speaking {224} the same language, though with dialectic differences. Like the smaller units, such a state was no doubt frequently adulterated by the amalgamation of aliens, but here again fictions were substituted for realities, and the foreign extraction was forgotten. The case was different, however, when the commonwealth was formed or aggrandised by the subjugation of a strange race. Instead of being adopted into the circle of the conquerors, the subdued people were treated as their inferiors in blood, civic rights were denied to them, and in many cases they were kept in servitude; thus even here the principle of a common origin as the base of citizenship was preserved, the conquerors being the only citizens in the full sense of the term. But however strong and durable similar barriers may be, they are not imperishable. The different races inhabiting the same country under the same government tend to draw nearer each other, the inferior race is incorporated with the nation, and local proximity instead of descent at last becomes the basis of community in political functions. This change, however, was neither so radical nor so startling as it has been represented to be;[146] fictions on a large scale still formed a bridge between ancient and modern ideas. Sir Henry Maine says that we cannot now hope to understand the good faith of the fiction by which in early times the incoming population were assumed to be descended from the same stock as the people on whom they were engrafted.[147] But is this good faith more astonishing than the readiness with which a common language, in spite of the most obvious facts to the contrary, is even now constantly taken as the sign of a common origin? Though identity of language, even in the case of whole peoples, proves nothing more than contact or neighbourhood, a person's mother-tongue popularly decides his race, and language and nationality are regarded almost as synonymous. Genealogical fictions, then, are not merely a thing of the past, nor have they ceased to influence political ideas. The modern theory of {225} nationalism vindicates the right of the strongest nationality to absorb the other nationalities living within the same state by a method of compulsory engraftment, and this can be effected only by their accepting its language. But this theory is not so much concerned with language as such, as with language as an emblem of nationality. At the bottom of it is the narrow feeling of racial intolerance, quite ready however to be appeased by a fiction. The doctrine of nationalism is the spectre of the same political principle--the principle of a common descent, either real or fictitious--on which states were founded and governed when civilisation was in its cradle. [Footnote 146: Maine, _Ancient Law_, p. 129.] [Footnote 147: _Ibid._ p. 131.] Like the smaller units, the archaic State was not only a political but at the same time a religious community. Over and above all separate cults there was one religion common to all its citizens. In ancient Mexico and Peru it was the religion of the dominant people, the worship of the god of war or of the sun; and the sovereigns themselves were regarded as incarnations or children of this god.[148] In other cases the state religion arose by a fusion of different cults. The gods of the communities which united into a state not only continued to receive the worship of their old believers, but were elevated to the rank of national deities, and formed together a heavenly commonwealth to which the earthly commonwealth jointly paid its homage. In this way, it seems, the Roman,[149] Egyptian,[150] Assyrian, and Babylonian[151] pantheons were recruited; whilst the Greeks went a step further and, already in prehistoric times, constructed a Pan-Hellenic Olympus.[152] Sometimes also, as Professor Robertson Smith points out, different gods were themselves fused into one, as when the mass of the Israelites in their local worship of Yahveh identified him with the Baalim of the Canaanite high places, and carried {226} over into his worship the ritual of the Canaanite shrines, not deeming that in so doing they were less truly Yahveh-worshippers than before.[153] [Footnote 148: Ratzel, _op. cit._ ii. 199 _sq._ Markham, _History of Peru_, p. 23.] [Footnote 149: _Cf._ von Jhering, _Geist des römischen Rechts_, i. 269.] [Footnote 150: Wiedemann, _Religion of the Ancient Egyptians_, p. 148.] [Footnote 151: Mürdter-Delitzsch, _Geschichte Babyloniens und Assyriens_, p. 24. Robertson Smith, _Religion of the Semites_, p. 39.] [Footnote 152: _Cf._ Rohde, _Psyche_, p. 36.] [Footnote 153: Robertson Smith, _op. cit._ p. 38.] Nobody will deny that the common religion added strength to the State, but it seems that its national importance has often been overrated. On the one hand, the political fusion between different communities took place before the religious fusion and was obviously the cause of it; on the other hand, the mere tie of a common religion has never proved sufficient to bind together neighbouring tribes or peoples so as to form one nation. The Greek states had both the same religion and the same language, but nevertheless remained distinct states. Professor Seeley's assertion that "in the East to this day nationality and religion are almost convertible terms,"[154] is very far from the truth. Wallin, who had exceptional opportunities to study the feelings of different Muhammedan nationalities, observes that "every Oriental people has a certain national aversion to every other, and even the inhabitants of one province to those of another. The Turk does not readily tolerate the Arab, nor the Persian, and these feel similarly towards the Turk; the Arab does not get on well with the Persian, nor the Persian with the Arab; the Syrian does not like the Egyptian, whom he calls inhuman, and the latter does not willingly associate with the Syrian, whom he calls simple-minded and stupid; and the son of the desert condemns both."[155] It sometimes seems as if the national spirit of a people rather influenced its religion than was influenced by it. Patriotism has even succeeded in nationalising the greatest enemy of nationalities, Christianity, and has well nigh revived the old notion of a national god, whose chief business is to look after his own people and, especially, to fight its battles. [Footnote 154: Seeley, _Natural Religion_, p. 229.] [Footnote 155: Wallin, _Anteckningar från Orienten_, iv. 181 _sq._] It is obvious that the various aspects of social development {227} which we have now considered have exercised much influence upon the altruistic sentiment. The combination of local proximity and political unity, the notion of a common descent, and the fellowship of a common religion, tend to engender friendly feelings between the members of each respective group. Hence, when the political unit grew larger, when the idea of kinship developed into that of racial affinity, and when the same religion became common to all the citizens of the State, or, as happened in several cases, extended beyond the limits of any particular country or nation, the altruistic sentiment underwent a corresponding expansion--unless, of course, it was checked by some rival influence. The increasing coherence of the political aggregate, again, added to the strength of this sentiment; and so did the antagonism towards foreign communities and the natural antipathy or hatred to their members. As people like that to which they are used or which is their own, they dislike that which is strange or unfamiliar. Among ourselves we notice this particularly in children[156] and uneducated persons, whose anger may be aroused by the sight of a black skin or an oriental dress or the sounds of a strange language. Antipathies of this kind have directly influenced the moral valuation of conduct towards foreigners; but at the same time they have also strengthened the feelings of mutual goodwill between tribesmen or compatriots. For likes and dislikes are increased by the contrast; to hate a thing makes us better love its opposite. So also the competition and enmity which prevail between different communities tend within each community to intensify its members' devotion to the common goal and their friendly feelings towards one another. [Footnote 156: Compayré, _op. cit._ p. 100:--"Tout ce qui est inattendu, imprévu, est insupportable à l'enfant, et provoque soit la peur, soit plus tard la colère. J'ai vu un de mes fils, à quatre ans et demi, entrer dans de véritables rages, toutes les fois que je lui parlais dans le patois de mon pays."] But the altruistic sentiment has not necessarily reference only to individuals belonging to the same social unit. {228} Gregarious animals may be kindly disposed to any member of their species which is not an object of their anger or their fear. Savages have shown themselves capable of tender feelings towards suffering and harmless strangers.[157] The sensibility of little children sometimes goes beyond the circle of the family; Madame Manacéine tells us of a girl two years old who, in the Zoological Gardens at St. Petersburg, began to cry bitterly when she saw an elephant walking over the keeper's body, although the other spectators were quietly watching the trick.[158] In mankind altruism has been narrowed by social isolation, by differences in race, language, habits, and customs, by enmity and suspicion. But increased intercourse has gradually led to conditions favourable to its expansion. As Buckle remarks, ignorance is the most powerful of all the causes of national hatred; "when you increase the contact, you remove the ignorance, and thus you diminish the hatred."[159] People of different nationalities feel that in spite of all dissimilarities between them there is much that they have in common; and frequent intercourse makes the differences less marked, or obliterates many of them altogether. There can be no doubt that this process will go on in the future. And equally certain it is that similar causes will produce similar effects--that altruism will continue to expand, and that the notion of a human brotherhood will receive more support from the actual feelings of mankind than it does at present. [Footnote 157: See _supra_, i. 570-572, 581.] [Footnote 158: Manacéine, _Le surmenage mental dans la civilisation moderne_, p. 248. See also Compayré, _op. cit._ p. 323.] [Footnote 159: Buckle, _History of Civilization in England_, i. 222.] CHAPTER XXXV SUICIDE IN previous chapters we have discussed the moral valuation of acts, forbearances, and omissions, which directly concern the interests of other men; we shall now proceed to consider moral ideas regarding such modes of conduct as chiefly concern a man's own welfare. Among these we notice, in the first place, acts affecting his existence. Suicide, or intentional self-destruction, has often been represented as a fruit of a higher civilisation; Dr. Steinmetz, on the other hand, in his essay on 'Suicide among Primitive Peoples,' thinks it probable that "there is a greater propensity to suicide among savage than among civilised peoples."[1] The former view is obviously erroneous; the latter probably holds good of certain savages as compared with certain peoples of culture, but cannot claim general validity. [Footnote 1: Steinmetz, 'Suicide among Primitive Peoples,' in _American Anthropologist_, vii. 60.] Among several uncivilised races suicide is said to be unknown.[2] To these belong some of the lower savages--the Yahgans of Tierra del Fuego,[3] the Andaman Islanders,[4] {230} and various Australian tribes;[5] whilst as regards most other tribes at about the same stage of culture information seems to be wanting. Of the natives in Western and Central Australia Sir G. Grey writes, "Whenever I have interrogated them on this point, they have invariably laughed at me, and treated my question as a joke."[6] When a Caroline Islander was told of suicides committed by Europeans, he thought that he had not grasped what was said to him, as he never in his life had heard of anything so ridiculous.[7] The Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush, though they have no intense fear of death, cannot understand suicide; "the idea of a man killing himself strikes them as inexplicable."[8] [Footnote 2: Paulitschke, _Ethnographie Nord-ost-Afrikas_, p. 205 (Danakil and Galla). Munzinger, _Ostafrikanische Studien_, p. 532 (Barea and Kunáma). New, _Life, Wanderings, and Labours in Eastern Africa_, p. 99 (Wanika). Felkin, 'Notes on the For Tribe of Central Africa,' in _Proceed. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh_, xiii. 231. Lumholtz (_Unknown Mexico_, i. 243) thinks it is doubtful whether a pagan Tarahumare ever killed himself.] [Footnote 3: Bridge, in _South American Missionary Magazine_, xiii. 211.] [Footnote 4: Man, _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xii. 111.] [Footnote 5: Grey, _Expeditions of Discovery in North-West and Western Australia_, ii. 248. Curr, _Recollections of Squatting in Victoria_, p. 277 (Bangerang). Among the tribes of Western Victoria described by Mr. Dawson (_Australian Aborigines_, p. 62) suicide is not unknown, though it is uncommon; "if a native wishes to die, and cannot get any one to kill him, he will sometimes put himself in the way of a venomous snake, that he may be bitten by it."] [Footnote 6: Grey, _op. cit._ ii. 248.] [Footnote 7: von Kotzebue, _Voyage of Discovery into the South Sea_, iii. 195.] [Footnote 8: Scott Robertson, _Káfirs of the Hindu-Kush_, p. 381.] Among many savages and barbarians suicide is stated to be very rare,[9] or to occur only occasionally;[10] whereas {231} among others it is represented as either common or extremely prevalent.[11] Of the Kamchadales we are told that the least apprehension of danger drives them to despair, and that they fly to suicide as a relief, not only from present, but even from imaginary evil; "not only those who are confined for some offence, but such as are discontented with their lot, prefer a voluntary death to an uneasy life, and the pains of disease."[12] Among the Hos, an Indian hill tribe, suicide is reported to be so frightfully prevalent as to afford no parallel in any known country:--"If a girl appears mortified by anything that has been said, it is not safe to let her go away till she is soothed. A reflection on a man's honesty or veracity may be sufficient to send him to self-destruction. In a recent case, a young woman attempted to poison herself because her uncle would not partake of the food she had cooked for him."[13] Among the Karens of Burma suicide is likewise very common where Christianity has not been introduced. If a man has some incurable or painful disease, he says in a matter-of-fact way that he will hang himself, and he does as he says; if a girl's parents compel her to marry the man she does not love, she hangs herself; wives sometimes hang themselves through jealousy, sometimes because they quarrel with their husbands, and sometimes out of mere {232} chagrin, because they are subject to depreciating comparisons; and it is a favourite threat with a wife or daughter, when not allowed to have her own way, that she will hang herself.[14] Among some uncivilised peoples suicide is frequently practised by women, though rarely by men.[15] [Footnote 9: Nansen, _Eskimo Life_, p. 267 (Greenlanders). Murdoch, 'Ethnol. Results of the Point Barrow Expedition,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ ix. 41 (Point Barrow Eskimo), von Siebold, _Die Aino auf der Insel Yesso_, p. 35. von Stenin, 'Die Kirgisen des Kreises Saissansk im Gebiete von Ssemipalatinsk,' in _Globus_, lxix. 230. Beltrame, _Il Fiume Bianco_, p. 51 (Arabs). Felkin, 'Waganda Tribe of Central Africa,' in _Proceed. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh_, xiii. 723. Schwarz, quoted by Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 24 (Bakwiri). _Ibid._ p. 52 (Banaka and Bapuku). Wandrer, _ibid._ p. 325 (Hottentots). Fritsch, _Die Eingeborenen Süd-Afrika's_, p. 221 (Bantu race). Sorge, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 421 (Nissan Islanders in the Bismarck Archipelago). Kubary, 'Die Verbrechen und das Strafverfahren auf den Pelau-Inseln,' in _Original-Mittheilungen aus der ethnol. Abtheil. d. königl. Museen zu Berlin_, i. 78 (Pelew Islanders). Among the Malays suicide is reported to be extremely rare (Brooke, _Ten Years in Saráwak_, i. 56; Ellis, 'The Amok of the Malays,' in _Journal of Mental Science_, xxxix. 331); but Dr. Gilmore Ellis has been told by many Malays that they consider Amok a kind of suicide. If a man wishes to die, he "amoks" in the hope of being killed, rather than kills himself, suicide being a most heinous sin according to the ethics of Muhammedanism (_ibid._ p. 331). In Siam suicide is rare (Bowring, _Siam_, i. 106). Of the Western Islanders of Torres Straits Dr. Haddon says (in _Reports of the Cambridge Anthrop. Expedition to Torres Straits_, v. 278) that he does not remember to have heard of a case of suicide in real life, though there are some instances of it in their folk-tales.] [Footnote 10: Comte, quoted by Mouhot, _Travels in the Central Parts of Indo-China_, ii. 27 _sq._ (Bannavs in Cambodia). Kloss, _In the Andamans and Nicobars_, p. 316 (Nicobarese). Among the Bakongo cases of suicide occur, "although much less frequently than in civilised countries" (Ward, _Five Years with the Congo Cannibals_, p. 45).] [Footnote 11: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _Report on Alaska_, p. 158 (Atkha Aleuts). Steller, _Beschreibung von Kamtschatka_, p. 293 _sq._, Krasheninnikoff, _History of Kamschatka_, pp. 176, 200. Georgi, _Russia_, iii. 133 _sq._ (Kamchadales), 184 (Chukchi), 205 (Aleuts). Brooke, _op. cit._ i. 55 (Sea Dyaks). Williams and Calvert, _Fiji_, p. 106. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 305; Tregear, 'Niue,' in _Jour. Polynesian Soc._ ii. 14; Thomson, _Savage Island_, p. 109; Hood, _Cruise in the Western Pacific_, p. 22 (Savage Islanders). Dieffenbach, _Travels in New Zealand_, ii. 111 _sq._; Collins, _English Colony in New South Wales_, i. 524 (Maoris). Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 553 _sq._; _Idem_, quoted by Darwin, _Descent of Man_, p. 117, n. 33 (West African Negroes). Monrad, _Skildring af Guinea-Kysten_, p. 23. Decle, _Three Years in Savage Africa_, p. 74 (Barotse). In Tana, of the New Hebrides (Gray, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxviii. 132) and Nias (Rosenberg, _Der malayische Archipel_, p. 146) suicides are said to be not infrequent.] [Footnote 12: Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 133 _sq._ _Cf._ Krasheninnikoff, _op. cit._ p. 176.] [Footnote 13: Tickell, 'Memoir on the Hodésum,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, ix. 807. Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 206.] [Footnote 14: Mason, 'Dwellings, &c., of the Karens,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxxvii. pt. ii. 141.] [Footnote 15: Keating, _Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River_, i. 394 (Dacotahs); ii. 171 _sq._ (Chippewas). Bradbury, _Travels in the Interior of America_, p. 87 (Dacotahs). Brooke Low, quoted by Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, i. 117 (Sea Dyaks). Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 93.] The causes which, among savages, lead to suicide are manifold:--disappointed love or jealousy;[16] illness[17] or old age;[18] grief over the death of a child,[19] a husband,[20] or a {233} wife;[21] fear of punishment;[22] slavery[23] or brutal treatment by a husband;[24] remorse,[25] shame or wounded pride, anger or revenge.[26] In various cases an offended person kills himself for the express purpose of taking revenge upon the offender.[27] Thus among the Tshi-speaking peoples of the Gold Coast, "should a person commit suicide, and before so doing attribute the act to the conduct of another person, that other person is required by native law to undergo a like fate. The practice is termed killing oneself upon the head of another, and the person whose conduct is supposed to have driven the suicide to commit the rash act is visited with a death of an exactly similar nature"--unless, indeed, the family of the suicide be pacified with a money compensation.[28] With reference to the Savage Islanders, who especially in heathen {234} times were much addicted to suicide, we are told that, "like angry children, they are tempted to avenge themselves by picturing the trouble that they will bring upon the friends who have offended them."[29] Among the Thlinkets an offended person who is unable to take revenge in any other way commits suicide in order to expose the person who gave the offence to the vengeance of his surviving relatives and friends.[30] Among the Chuvashes it was formerly the custom for enraged persons to hang themselves at the doors of their enemies.[31] A similar method of taking revenge is still not infrequently resorted to by the Votyaks, who believe that the ghost of the deceased will then persecute the offender.[32] Sometimes a suicide has the character of a human sacrifice.[33] In the times of epidemics or great calamities the Chukchi sacrifice their own lives in order to appease evil spirits and the souls of departed relatives.[34] Among some savages it is common for a woman, especially if married to a man of importance, to commit suicide on the death of her husband,[35] or to demand to be buried with him;[36] and many Brazilian Indians killed themselves on the graves of their chiefs.[37] [Footnote 16: Lasch, 'Der Selbstmord aus erotischen Motiven bei den primitiven Völkern,' in _Zeitschrift für Socialwissenschaft_, ii. 579 _sqq._ Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 503. Keating, _op. cit._ ii. 172 (Chippewas). Eastman, _Dacotah_, pp. 89 _sqq._, 168 _sq._; Dodge, _Our Wild Indians_, p. 321 _sq._ (Dacotahs). Turner, 'Ethnology of the Ungava District, Hudson Bay Territory,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xi. 187 (Koksoagmyut). Mason, in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxxvii. pt. ii. 141 (Karens). Brooke Low, quoted by Ling Roth, _Natives of Sarawak_, i. 115 (Sea Dyaks). Kubary, 'Religion der Pelauer,' in Bastian, _Allerlei aus Volks- und Menschenkunde_, i. 3 (Pelew Islanders). Senfft, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 452 (Marshall Islanders). Codrington, _Melanesians_, p. 243 _sq._ (natives of the Banks' Islands and Northern New Hebrides). Waitz, _Anthropologie der Naturvölker_, vi. 115; Malone, _Three Years' Cruise in the Australasian Colonies_, p. 72 _sq._ (Maoris). Reade, _Savage Africa_, p. 554 (West African Negroes). Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 93 _sq._] [Footnote 17: Dodge, _op. cit._ p. 321 _sq._ (North American Indians) Holm, 'Ethnologisk Skizze af Angmagsalikerne,' in _Meddelelser om Grönland_, x. 181 (Angmagsaliks of Eastern Greenland). Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 134 (Kamchadales). Mason, in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxxvii. pt. ii. 141 (Karens). Gray, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxviii. 132 (natives of Tana, New Hebrides). Sartori, 'Die Sitte der Alten- und Krankentötung,' in _Globus_, lxvii. 109 _sq._] [Footnote 18: Perrin du Lac, _Voyage dans les deux Louisianes_, p. 346. Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 331; _Idem_, _Eskimo Life_, pp. 170, 267 (Greenlanders). Steller, _Beschreibung von Kamtschatka_, p. 294. Wilkes, _U.S. Exploring Expedition_, iii. 96; Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 65 (Fijians). Diodorus Siculus, _Bibliotheca historica_, iii. 33.5 (Troglodytes). Pomponius Mela, _De situ orbis_, iii. 7 (Seres). Hartknoch, _Alt- und Neues Preussen_, i. 181 (ancient Prussians). Mareschalcus, _Annales Herulorum ac Vandalorum_, i. 8 (_Monumenta inedita rerum Germanicarum_, i. 191); Procopius, _De bello Gothico_, ii. 14 (Heruli). Maurer, _Die Bekehrung des Norwegischen Stammes zum Christenthume_, ii. 79, n. 48 (ancient Scandinavians).] [Footnote 19: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _op. cit._ p. 158 (Atkha Aleuts). Keating, _op. cit._ ii. 172 (Chippewas). Colenso, _Maori Races_, pp. 46, 57; Dieffenbach, _op. cit._ ii. 112 (Maoris).] [Footnote 20: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _op. cit._ p. 158 (Atkha Aleuts). Haddon, in _Rep. Cambridge Anthr. Exped. to Torres Straits_, v. 17 (Western Islanders, according to a Kauralaig folk-tale). Colenso, _op. cit._ pp. 46, 57; Dieffenbach, _op. cit._ ii. 112 (Maoris).] [Footnote 21: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _op. cit._ p. 158 (Atkha Aleuts). Fawcett, _Saoras_, p. 17. Dieffenbach, _op. cit._ ii. 112 (Maoris).] [Footnote 22: Steller, _Beschreibung von Kamtschatka_, p. 293. Dieffenbach, _op. cit._ ii. 112 (Maoris).] [Footnote 23: Modigliani, _Viaggio a Nías_, p. 473. Decle, _op. cit._ p. 74 (Barotse). Monrad, _op. cit._ p. 25 (Negroes of Accra). Donne, _Biathanatos_, p. 56 (American Indians).] [Footnote 24: Wied-Neuwied, _Travels in the Interior of North America_, p. 349 (Mandans).] [Footnote 25: Turner, in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xi. 187 (Koksoagmyut). Mr. Dawson (_Australian Aborigines_, p. 62 _sq._) tells us of a native of Western Victoria who decided to commit suicide because, being intoxicated, he had killed his wife, and was so sorry for it. He besought the tribe to kill him, and seeing his determination to starve himself to death, his friends at last sent for the tribal executioner, who pushed a spear through him.] [Footnote 26: Veniaminof, quoted by Petroff, _op. cit._ p. 158 (Atkha Aleuts). Keating, _op. cit._ ii. 171 (Chippewas). Dalton, _op. cit._ p. 206; Jickell, in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, ix. 807 (Hos). Colquhoun, _Amongst the Shans_, p. 76 _sq._ (Lethtas). Mac Mahon, _Far Cathay_, p. 241 (Tarus, one of the Chino-Burmese border tribes). Brooke, _op. cit._ i. 55 (Sea Dyaks). Chalmers, _Pioneer Life and Work in New Guinea_, p. 227 (a woman at Port Moresby; Mr. Abel [_Savage Life in New Guinea_, p. 102] speaks of a New Guinea woman who was so annoyed because her old village friends had not visited her during her illness that she attempted to commit suicide). Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 243 _sq._ (natives of the Banks' Islands and Northern New Hebrides). Williams and Calvert, _op. cit._ p. 106 (Fijians). Tregear, in _Jour. Polynesian Soc._ ii. 14 (Savage Islanders). Dieffenbach, _op. cit._ ii. 111 _sq._; Collins, _op. cit._ i. 524; Angas, _Savage Life in Australia and New Zealand_, ii. 45; Colenso, _op. cit._ p. 56 _sq._ (Maoris). Ward, _Five Years with the Congo Cannibals_, p. 45 (Bakongo). Lasch, 'Besitzen die Naturvölker ein persönliches Ehrgefühl?' in _Zeitschr. f. Socialwissenschaft_, iii. 837 _sqq._] [Footnote 27: See Lasch, 'Rache als Selbstmordmotiv,' in _Globus_, lxxiv. 37 _sqq._; Steinmetz, 'Gli antichi scongiuri giuridici contro i creditori,' in _Rivista italiana di sociologia_, ii. 49 _sqq._] [Footnote 28: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 302. The same custom is mentioned by Monrad (_op. cit._ p. 23 _sq._), Bowdich (_Mission to Ashantee_, pp. 256, 257, 259 n. [double dagger]), and Reade (_Savage Africa_, p. 554).] [Footnote 29: Thomson, _Savage Island_, p. 109.] [Footnote 30: Krause, _Die Tlinkit-Indianer_, p. 222.] [Footnote 31: Lebedew, 'Die simbirskischen Tschuwaschen,' in Erman's _Archiv für wissenschaftliche Kunde von Russland_, ix. 586 n. **] [Footnote 32: Buch, 'Die Wotjaken,' in _Acta Soc. Scient. Fennicæ_, xii. 611 _sq._] [Footnote 33: See Lasch, 'Religiöser Selbstmord und seine Beziehung zum Menschenopfer.' in _Globus_, lxxv. 69 _sqq._] [Footnote 34: Skrzyncki, 'Der Selbstmord bei den Tschuktschen,' in _Am Ur-Quell_, v. 207 _sq._] [Footnote 35: Ashe, _Two Kings of Uganda_, p. 342 (Wahuma). Johnston, _Uganda Protectorate_, ii. 610 (Bairo). Junghuhn, _Die Battaländer auf Sumatra_, ii. 340 (natives of Bali and Lombok).] [Footnote 36: Westermarck, _History of Human Marriage_, p. 125 (Fijians). Codrington, _op. cit._ p. 289 (natives of Aurora Island, New Hebrides).] [Footnote 37: Dorman, _Origin of Primitive Superstitions_, p. 211. _Cf._ _ibid._ p. 209. Of the Niger Delta tribes M. le Comte de Cardi writes (in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxix. 55):--"On the deportation of a king or a chief by the British or other European government for some offence I have seen the wives of the deported man throw themselves into the river and fight like mad women with the people who went to their rescue; I have also seen some of the male retainers both free and slaves of a deported chief attempt their own lives at the moment when the vessel carrying away their chief disappeared from their sight."] In various other cases, besides the voluntary sacrifices of widows or slaves, the suicides of savages are connected with their notions of a future life.[38] The belief in the new {235} human birth of the departed soul has led West African negroes to take their own lives when in distant slavery, that they may awaken in their native land.[39] Among the Chukchi there are persons who kill themselves for the purpose of effecting an earlier reunion with their deceased relatives.[40] Among the Samoyedes it happens that a young girl who is sold to an old man strangles herself in the hope of getting a more suitable bridegroom in the other world.[41] We are told that the Kamchadales inflict death on themselves with the utmost coolness because they maintain that "the future life is a continuation of the present, but much better and more perfect, where they expect to have all their desires more completely satisfied than here."[42] The suicides of old people, again, are in some cases due to the belief that a man enters into the other world in the same condition in which he left this one, and that it consequently is best for him to die before he grows too old and feeble.[43] [Footnote 38: _Cf._ Steinmetz, in _American Anthropologist_, vii. 60; Vierkandt, _Naturvölker und Kulturvölker_, p. 284; Lasch, in _Zeitschrift für Socialwissenschaft_, ii. 585.] [Footnote 39: Tylor, _Primitive Culture_, ii. 5.] [Footnote 40: Skrzyncki, in _Am Ur-Quell_, v. 207.] [Footnote 41: von Struve, 'Die Samojeden im Norden von Sibirien,' in _Ausland_, 1880, p. 777.] [Footnote 42: Georgi, _op. cit._ iii. 265. _Cf._ Steller, _Beschreibung von Kamtschatka_, p. 294.] [Footnote 43: Hale, _op. cit._ p. 65 (Fijians). _Cf._ _supra_, i. 390.] The notions of savages concerning life after death also influence their moral valuation of suicide. Where men are supposed to require wives not only during their lifetime, but after their death, it may be a praiseworthy thing, or even a duty, for a widow to accompany her husband to the land of souls. According to Fijian beliefs, the woman who at the funeral of her husband met death with the greatest devotedness would become the favourite wife in the abode of spirits, whereas a widow who did not permit herself to be killed was considered an adulteress.[44] Among the Central African Bairo those women who refrained from destroying themselves over their husbands' graves were regarded as outcasts.[45] On the Gold Coast a man of low rank who has married one of the king's sisters is {236} expected to make away with himself when his wife dies, or upon the death of an only male child; and "should he outrage native custom and neglect to do so, a hint is conveyed to him that he will be put to death, which usually produces the desired effect."[46] The customary suicides of the Chukchi are solemnly performed in the presence and with the assistance of relatives and neighbours.[47] The Samoyedes maintain that suicide by strangulation "is pleasing to God, who looks upon it as a voluntary sacrifice, which deserves reward."[48] The opinion of the Kamchadales that it is "allowable and praiseworthy" for a man to take his own life,[49] was probably connected with their optimistic notions about their fate after death. And that the habitual suicides of old persons have the sanction of public opinion is particularly obvious where they may choose between killing themselves and being killed.[50] [Footnote 44: Westermarck, _op. cit._ p. 125 _sq._] [Footnote 45: Johnston, _Uganda Protectorate_, i. 610.] [Footnote 46: Ellis, _Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast_, p. 287.] [Footnote 47: Skrzyncki, in _Am Ur-Quell_, v. 208.] [Footnote 48: von Struve, in _Ausland_, 1880, p. 777.] [Footnote 49: Steller, _op. cit._ p. 269. _Cf._ Krasheninnikoff, _op. cit._ p. 204.] [Footnote 50: _Supra_, i. 389 _sq._ (Fijians). Nansen, _First Crossing of Greenland_, ii. 331. Steller, _op. cit._ p. 294 (Kamchadales).] Whilst in some cases suicide opens the door to a happy land beyond the grave, it in other cases entails consequences of a very different kind. The Omahas believe that a self-murderer ceases to exist.[51] According to the Thompson Indians in British Columbia, "the souls of people who commit suicide do not go to the land of souls. The shamans declare they never saw such people there; and some say that they have looked for the souls of such people, but could not find their tracks. Some shamans say they cannot locate the place where the souls of suicides go, but think they must be lost, because they seem to disappear altogether. Others say that these souls die, and cease to exist. Still others claim that the souls never leave the earth, but wander around aimlessly."[52] So also the Jakuts believe that the ghost of a self-murderer never {237} comes to rest.[53] Sometimes the fate of suicides after death is represented as a punishment which they suffer for their deed. Thus the Dacotahs, among whom women not infrequently put an end to their existence by hanging themselves, are of opinion that suicide is displeasing to the "Father of Life," and will be punished in the land of spirits by the ghost being doomed for ever to drag the tree on which the person hanged herself; hence the women always suspend themselves to as small a tree as can possibly sustain their weight.[54] The Pahárias of the Rájmahal Hills, in India, say that "suicide is a crime in God's eyes," and that "the soul of one who so offends shall not be admitted into heaven, but must hover eternally as a ghost between heaven and earth,"[55] The Kayans of Borneo maintain that self-murderers are sent to a place called _Tan Tekkan_, where they will be very poor and wretched, subsisting on leaves, roots, or anything they can pick up in the forests, and being easily distinguished by their miserable appearance.[56] According to Dyak beliefs, they go to a special place, where those who have drowned themselves must thenceforth live up to their waists in water, and those who have poisoned themselves must live in houses built of poisonous woods and surrounded by noxious plants, the exhalations of which are painful to the spirits.[57] In other instances we are simply told that the souls of suicides, together with those of persons who have been killed in war,[58] or who have died a violent death,[59] are not permitted to live with the rest of the souls, to whom their presence would cause uneasiness. Among the Hidatsa Indians some people say that the ghosts of men {238} who have made away with themselves occupy a separate part of the village of the dead, but that their condition in no other wise differs from that of the other ghosts.[60] [Footnote 51: La Flesche, 'Death and Funeral Customs among the Omahas,' in _Jour. of American Folk-Lore_, ii. 11.] [Footnote 52: Teit, 'Thompson Indians of British Columbia,' in _Memoirs of the American Museum of Natural History_, Anthropology, i. 358 _sq._] [Footnote 53: Sumner, in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 101.] [Footnote 54: Bradbury, _Travels in the Interior of America_, p. 89. _Cf._ Keating, _op. cit._ i. 394.] [Footnote 55: Dalton, _Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal_, p. 268. _Cf._ Sherwill, 'Tour through the Rájmahal Hills,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xx. 556.] [Footnote 56: Hose, 'Journey up the Baram River to Mount Dulit and the Highlands of Borneo,' in _Geographical Journal_, i. 199.] [Footnote 57: Wilken, _Het animisme bij de volken van den Indischen Archipel_, i. 44.] [Footnote 58: Brebeuf, 'Relation de ce qui s'est passé dans le pays des Hurons,' in _Relations des Jésuites_, 1636, p. 104 _sq._ Hewitt, 'The Iroquoian Concept of the Soul,' in _Jour. of American Folk-Lore_, viii. 109.] [Footnote 59: Steinmetz, in _American Anthropologist_, vii. 58 (Niase).] [Footnote 60: Matthews, _Ethnography and Philology of the Hidatsa Indians_, p. 49.] It is, however, hard to believe that the fate of the self-murderer, whether it be annihilation, a vagrant existence on earth, or separation in the other world, was originally meant as a punishment; for a similar lot is assigned to the souls of persons who have been drowned,[61] or who have died by accident or violence.[62] It seems that the suicide's future state is in the first place supposed to depend upon the treatment of his corpse. Frequently he is denied burial, or at least the ordinary funeral rites,[63] and this may give rise to the notion that his soul never comes to rest or, possibly, even ceases to exist. Or he is buried by himself, apart from the other dead,[64] in which case his soul must naturally remain equally isolated. Among the Alabama Indians, for instance, "when a man kills himself, either in despair or in a sickness, he is deprived of burial, and thrown into the river."[65] In Dahomey "the body of any person committing suicide is not allowed to be buried, but thrown out into the fields to be devoured by wild beasts."[66] Among the Fantis of the Gold Coast "il y a des places réservées aux suicides et à ceux qui sont morts de la petite vérole. Ils sont enterrés à l'écart loin de toute {239} habitation et de tout chemin public."[67] In the Pelew Islands a self-murderer is buried not with his own deceased relatives, but in the place where he ended his life, as are also the corpses of those who fall in war.[68] Among the Bannavs of Cambodia "anyone who perishes by his own hand is buried in a corner of the forest far from the graves of his brethren."[69] Among the Sea Dyaks "those who commit suicide are buried in different places from others, as it is supposed that they will not be allowed to mix in the seven-storied heaven with such of their fellow-country men as come by their death in a natural manner or from the influence of the spirits."[70] The motive for thus treating self-murderers' bodies is superstitious fear. Their ghosts, as the ghosts of persons who have died by any other violent means or by accident, are supposed to be particularly malevolent,[71] owing to their unnatural mode of death[72] or to the desperate or angry state of mind in which they left this life. If they are not buried at all, or if they are buried in the spot where they died or in a separate place, that is either because nobody dares to interfere with them, or in order to prevent them from mixing with the other dead. So also murdered persons are sometimes left unburied,[73] and people who are supposed to have been killed by evil spirits are buried apart;[74] whilst those struck with lightning are either denied interment,[75] or buried where they fell and in the position in which they died.[76] We sometimes hear of a connection between the way in which a suicide's body is treated and the moral opinion as regards his deed. Among the Alabama Indians his corpse {240} is said to be thrown into the river "because he is looked upon as a coward";[77] and of the Ossetes M. Kovalewsky states that they bury suicides far away from other dead persons because they regard their act as sinful.[78] But we may be sure that moral condemnation is not the original cause of these practices. [Footnote 61: Teit, _loc. cit._ p. 359 (Thompson Indians).] [Footnote 62: Soppitt, _Kuki-Lushai Tribes_, p. 12. Anderson, _Mandalay to Momien_, p. 146 (Kakhyens). Müller, _Geschichte der Amerikanischen Urreligionen_, p. 287 (Brazilian Indians). _Supra_, ii. 237. The Central Eskimo believe that all who die by accident or by violence, and women who die in childbirth, are taken to the upper, happier world (Boas, 'Central Eskimo,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ vi. 590). According to the belief of the Behring Strait Eskimo, the shades of shamans, or persons who die by accident, violence, or starvation, go to a land of plenty in the sky, where there is light, food, and water in abundance, whereas the shades of people who die from natural causes go to the underground land of the dead (Nelson, 'Eskimo about Bering Strait,' in _Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn._ xviii. 423).] [Footnote 63: See Lasch, 'Die Behandlung der Leiche des Selbstmorders,' in _Globus_, lxxvi. 63 _sqq._] [Footnote 64: _Ibid._ p. 65.] [Footnote 65: Bossu, _Travels through Louisiana_, i. 258.] [Footnote 66: M'Leod, _Voyage to Africa_, p. 48 _sq._ I am indebted to Mr. N. W. Thomas for drawing my attention to this and a few other statements in the present chapter.] [Footnote 67: Gallaud, 'A la Côte d'Or,' in _Les missions catholiques_, xxv. 347.] [Footnote 68: Kubary, in _Original-Mittheil. aus der ethnol. Abtheil. d. königl. Museen zu Berlin_, i. 78.] [Footnote 69: Comte, quoted by Mouhot, _op. cit._ ii. 28. See also 'Das Volk der Bannar,' in _Mittheil. d. Geogr. Ges. zu Jena_, iii. 9.] [Footnote 70: St. John, _Life in the Forests of the Far East_, i. 69.] [Footnote 71: Lasch, in _Globus_, lxxvi. 65. _Cf._ Liebrecht, _Zur Volkskunde_, p. 414 _sq._] [Footnote 72: Lippert, _Der Seelencult_, p. 11. Kubary, in _Original-Mittheil. aus der ethnol. Abtheil. d. königl. Museen zu Berlin_, i. 78.] [Footnote 73: Rosenberg, _Der malayische Archipel_, p. 461 (Papuans of Dorey).] [Footnote 74: Hodson, 'Native Tribes of Manipur,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxi. 305 _sq._] [Footnote 75: Burton, _Mission to Gelele_, ii. 142 _sq._ (Dahomans).] [Footnote 76: La Flesche, in _Jour. American Folk-Lore_, ii. 11 (Omahas).] [Footnote 77: Bossu, _op. cit._ i. 258.] [Footnote 78: Kovalewsky, _Coutume contemporaine et loi ancienne_, p. 327.] It is comparatively seldom that savages are reported to attach any stigma to suicide. To the instances mentioned above a few others may be added. The Waganda, we are told, greatly condemn the act.[79] Among the Bogos "a man never despairs, never gives himself up, and considers suicide as the greatest indignity."[80] The Karens of Burma deem it an act of cowardice; but at the same time they have no command against it, they "seem to see little or no guilt in it," and "we are nowhere told that it is displeasing to the God of heaven and earth."[81] The Dacotahs said of a girl who had destroyed herself because her parents had turned her beloved from the wigwam, and would force her to marry a man she hated, that her spirit did not watch over her earthly remains, being offended when she brought trouble upon her aged mother and father.[82] In Dahomey "it is criminal to attempt to commit suicide, because every man is the property of the king. The bodies of suicides are exposed to public execration, and the head is always struck off and sent to Agbomi; at the expense of the family if the suicide were a free man, at that of his master if he were a slave."[83] On the other hand, it is expressly stated of various savages that they do not punish attempts to commit suicide.[84] The negroes of Accra see nothing wrong in the act. "Why," they would ask, "should a person not be {241} allowed to die, when he no longer desires to live?" But they inflict cruel punishments upon slaves who try to put an end to themselves, in order to deter other slaves from doing the same.[85] Among the Pelew Islanders suicide "is neither praised nor blamed."[86] The Eskimo around Northumberland Inlet and Davis Strait believe that any one who has been killed by accident, or who has taken his own life, certainly goes to the happy place after death.[87] The Chippewas hold suicide "to be a foolish, not a reprehensible action," and do not believe it to entail any punishment in the other world.[88] In his sketches of the manners and customs of the North American Indians, Buchanan writes:--"Suicide is not considered by the Indians either as an act of heroism or of cowardice, nor is it with them a subject of praise or blame. They view this desperate act as the consequence of mental derangement, and the person who destroys himself is to them an object of pity."[89] [Footnote 79: Felkin, in _Proceed. Roy. Soc. Edinburgh_, xiii. 723.] [Footnote 80: Munzinger, _Die Sitten und das Recht der Bogos_, p. 93.] [Footnote 81: Mason, in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xxxvii. pt. ii. 141.] [Footnote 82: Eastman, _op. cit._ p. 169.] [Footnote 83: Ellis, _E[(w]e-speaking Peoples_, p. 224.] [Footnote 84: Leuschner, in Steinmetz, _Rechtsverhältnisse_, p. 24 (Bakwiri). Nicole, _ibid._ p. 135 (Diakité-Sarracolese). Lang, _ibid._ p. 262 (Washambala). Rautanen, _ibid._ p. 343 (Ondonga). Sorge, _ibid._ p. 421 (Nissan Islanders). Senfft, _ibid._ p. 452 (Marshall Islanders).] [Footnote 85: Monrad, _op. cit._ pp. 23, 25.] [Footnote 86: Kubary, in _Original-Mittheil. aus der ethnol. Abtheil. d. königl. Museen zu Berlin_, i. 78.] [Footnote 87: Hall, _Arctic Researches_, p. 572. _Cf._ _supra_, ii. 238, n. 3.] [Footnote 88: Keating, _op. cit._ ii. 172.] [Footnote 89: Buchanan, _Sketches of the History, &c. of the North American Indians_, p. 184.] From the opinions on suicide held by uncivilised races we shall pass to those prevalent among peoples of a higher culture. In China suicide is extremely common among all classes and among persons of all ages.[90] For those who have been impelled to this course by a sense of honour the gates of heaven open wide, and tablets bearing their names are erected in the temples in honour of virtuous men or women. As honourable self-murderers are regarded servants or officers of state who choose not to survive a defeat in battle or an insult offered to the sovereign of their country; young men who, when an insult has been paid to their parents which they are unable to avenge, prefer not to survive it; and women who kill {242} themselves on the death of their husbands or _fiancés_.[91] In spite of imperial prohibitions, sutteeism of widowed wives and brides has continued to flourish in China down to this day, and meets with the same public applause as ever;[92] whilst those widowed wives and brides who have lost their lives in preserving their chastity, are entitled both to an honorary gate and to a place in a temple of the State as an object of worship.[93] Another common form of suicide which is admired as heroic in China is that committed for the purpose of taking revenge upon an enemy who is otherwise out of reach--according to Chinese ideas a most effective mode of revenge, not only because the law throws the responsibility of the deed on him who occasioned it, but also because the disembodied soul is supposed to be better able than the living man to persecute the enemy.[94] The Chinese have a firm belief in the wandering spirits of persons who have died by violence; thus self-murderers are supposed to haunt the places where they committed the fatal deed and endeavour to persuade others to follow their example, at times even attempting to play executioner by strangling those who reject their advances.[95] "Violent deaths," says Mr. Giles, "are regarded with horror by the Chinese";[96] and suicides committed from meaner motives are reprobated.[97] It is said in the Yü Li, or "Divine Panorama"--a Taouist work which is very popular all over the Chinese Empire--that whilst persons who kill themselves out of loyalty, filial piety, chastity, or friendship, will go to heaven, those who do so "in a trivial burst of rage, or fearing the consequences of a crime which would not amount to death, or in the hope of falsely injuring a {243} fellow-creature," will be severely punished in the infernal regions.[98] No pardon will be granted them; they are not, like other sinners, allowed to claim their good works as a set-off against evil, whereby they might partly escape the agonies of hell and receive some reward for their virtuous deeds.[99] Sometimes suicide is classified by the Chinese as an offence against religion, on the ground that a person owes his being to Heaven, and is therefore responsible to Heaven for due care of the gift.[100] [Footnote 90: Gray, _China_, i. 329. Huc, _The Chinese Empire_, p. 181. Matignon, 'Le suicide en Chine,' in _Archives d'anthropologie criminelle_, xii. 367 _sqq._ Cathonay, 'Aux environs de Foutchéon,' in _Les missions catholiques_, xxxi. 341 _sq._ Ball, _Things Chinese_, p. 564 _sqq._] [Footnote 91: Gray, _op. cit._ i. 337 _sqq._] [Footnote 92: de Groot, _Religious System of China_, (vol. ii. book) i. 748. Ball, _op. cit._ p. 565. Cathonay, in _Les missions catholiques_, xxxi. 341.] [Footnote 93: de Groot, _op. cit._ (vol. ii. book) i. 792.] [Footnote 94: Huc, _op. cit._ p. 181. Matignon, in _Archives d'anthropologie criminelle_, xii. 371 _sqq._ de Groot, _op. cit._ (vol. iv. book) ii. 450 _sq._ Cathonay, in _Les missions catholiques_, xxxi. 341 _sq._ Ball, _op. cit._ p. 566 _sq._] [Footnote 95: Davis, _China_, ii. 94. Dennys, _Folk-Lore of China_, p. 74 _sq._] [Footnote 96: Giles, _Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio_, ii. 363, n. 9.] [Footnote 97: Gray, _op. cit._ i. 337.] [Footnote 98: Giles, _op. cit._ ii. 365.] [Footnote 99: _Ibid._ ii. 363.] [Footnote 100: Alabaster, _Notes and Commentaries on Chinese Criminal Law_, p. 304.] "The Japanese calendar of saints," says Mr. Griffis, "is not filled with reformers, alms-givers, and founders of hospitals or orphanages, but is overcrowded with canonised suicides and committers of _harakiri_. Even to-day, no man more . . . surely draws homage to his tomb, securing even apotheosis, than the suicide, though he may have committed a crime."[101] There were two kinds of _harakiri_, or "belly-cutting," one obligatory and the other voluntary. The former was a boon granted by government, who graciously permitted criminals of the Samurai, or military, class thus to destroy themselves instead of being handed over to the common executioner; but this custom is now quite extinct. Voluntary _harakiri_, again, was practised out of loyalty to a dead superior, or in order to protest, when other protests might be unavailing, against the erroneous conduct of a living superior, or to avoid beheading by the enemy in a lost battle, or to restore injured honour if revenge was impossible. Under any circumstances _harakiri_ cleansed from every stain, and ensured an honourable interment and a respected memory.[102] It is said in a Japanese manuscript, "To slay his enemy against whom he has cause of hatred, and then to kill himself, is the part of a noble Samurai, and it is sheer nonsense to look upon the place where he has disembowelled {244} himself as polluted."[103] In old days the ceremony used to be performed in a temple.[104] [Footnote 101: Griffis, _Religions of Japan_, p. 112.] [Footnote 102: Chamberlain, _Things Japanese_, p. 219 _sqq._ Rein, _Japan_, p. 328. Kühne, in _Globus_, lxxiv. 166 _sq._ A very full account of the ceremony of _harakiri_ is given in Mitford's _Tales of Old Japan_, ii. 193 _sqq._, from a rare Japanese manuscript.] [Footnote 103: Mitford, _op. cit._ ii. 201.] [Footnote 104: _Ibid._ ii. 196.] Among the Hindus we meet with the practice of self-immolation of widows--until recently very prevalent in many parts of India[105]--and various forms of self-destruction for religious purposes. Suicide has always been considered by the Hindus to be one of the most acceptable rites that can be offered to their deities. According to the Ayen Akbery, there were five kinds of suicide held to be meritorious in the Hindu, namely:--starving; covering himself with cow-dung and setting it on fire and consuming himself therein; burying himself in snow; immersing himself in the water at the extremity of Bengal, where the Ganges discharges itself into the sea through a thousand channels, enumerating his sins, and praying till the alligators come and devour him; cutting his throat at Allahabad, at the confluence of the Ganges and Jumna.[106] To these might be added drowning at Hurdwar, Allahabad, and Saugor; perishing in the cold of the Himalayas; the practice of dying under the wheels of Juggurnath's car;[107] and the custom of men throwing themselves down from certain rocks to fulfil the vows of their mothers, or to receive forgiveness for sins, or to be re-born rajas in their next state of transmigration.[108] It is also common for persons who are afflicted with leprosy or any other incurable disease to bury or drown themselves with due ceremonies, by which they are considered acceptable sacrifices to the deity,[109] or to roll themselves into fires with the notion that thus purified they will receive a happy transmigration into a healthy body.[110] Suicide was further {245} resorted to by Brâhmans for the purpose of avenging an injury, as it was believed that the ghost of the deceased would persecute the offender, and, presumably, also because of the great efficacy which was attributed to the curse of a dying Brâhman.[111] When one of the Rajput rajas once levied a war-subsidy on the Brâhmans, some of the wealthiest, having expostulated in vain, poniarded themselves in his presence, pouring maledictions on his head with their last breath; and thus cursed, the raja laboured under a ban of excommunication even amongst his personal friends.[112] We are told of a Brâhman girl who, having been seduced by a certain raja, burned herself to death, and in dying imprecated the most fearful curses on the raja's kindred, after which they were visited with such a succession of disasters that they abandoned their family settlement at Baliya, where the woman's tomb is worshipped to this day.[113] Once when a raja ordered the house of a Brâhman to be demolished and resumed the lands which had been conferred upon him, the latter fasted till he died at the palace gate, and became thus a Brahm, or malignant Brâhman ghost, who avenged the injury he had suffered by destroying the raja and his house.[114] At Azimghur, in 1835, a Brâhman "threw himself down a well, that his ghost might haunt his neighbour."[115] The same idea undoubtedly underlies the custom of "sitting _dharna_" which was practised by creditors who sat down before the doors of their debtors threatening to starve themselves to death if their claims were not paid;[116] and the sin attached to causing the death of a Brâhman would further increase the efficacy of the creditor's threats.[117] At the same time religious suicide is said to be a crime in a Brâhman.[118] And in the sacred books we read that for him who destroys {246} himself by means of wood, water, clods of earth, stones, weapons, poison, or a rope, no funeral rites shall be performed by his relatives;[119] that he who resolves to die by his own hand shall fast for three days; and that he who attempts suicide, but remains alive, shall perform severe penance.[120] The Buddhists allow a man under certain circumstances to take his own life, but maintain that generally dire miseries are in store for the self-murderer, and look upon him as one who must have sinned deeply in a former state of existence.[121] It should be added that in India, as elsewhere, the souls of those who have killed themselves or met death by any other violent means are regarded as particularly malevolent and troublesome.[122] [Footnote 105: Malcolm, _Memoir of Central India_, ii. 206 _sqq._ Chevers, _Manual of Medical Jurisprudence for India_, p. 665. _Cf._ _supra_, i. 473 _sq._ Sir John Malcolm observes (_op. cit._ ii. 206, n. [double dagger]) that the practice of suttee was not always confined to widows, but that sometimes mothers burned themselves on the death of their only sons.] [Footnote 106: Chevers, _op. cit._ p. 664. _Cf._ _Laws of Manu_, vi. 31.] [Footnote 107: _Ibid._ p. 664. Ward, _View of the History, &c. of the Hindoos_, ii. 115 _sqq._ Rájendralála Mitra, _Indo-Aryans_, ii. 70.] [Footnote 108: Sleeman, _Rambles and Recollections of an Indian Official_, i. 132 _sq._ Malcolm, _Memoir of Central India_, ii. 209 _sqq._ Forsyth, _Highlands of Central India_, p. 172 _sq._] [Footnote 109: Sleeman, _op. cit._ ii. 344 _sq._] [Footnote 110: Ward, _op. cit._ ii. 119.] [Footnote 111: Chevers, _op. cit._ p. 659 _sqq._ Crooke, _Popular Religion and Folk-Lore of Northern India_, i. 191 _sqq._ van Mökern, _Ostindien_, i. 319 _sqq._] [Footnote 112: Tod, quoted by Chevers, _op. cit._ p. 659 _sq._] [Footnote 113: Crooke, _op. cit._ i. 193.] [Footnote 114: _Ibid._ i. 191 _sq._] [Footnote 115: Chevers, _op. cit._ p. 663.] [Footnote 116: _Cf._ Steinmetz, 'Gli antichi scongiuri giuridici contro i creditori,' in _Rivista italiana di sociologia_, ii. 58. For the practice of _dharna_ see _ibid._ p. 37 _sqq._; Balfour, _Cyclopædia of India_, i. 934 _sq._; van Mökern, _op. cit._ i. 322 _sq._] [Footnote 117: _Cf._ Jones, quoted by Balfour, _op. cit._ i. 935.] [Footnote 118: Ward, _op. cit._ ii. 115. Forsyth, _op. cit._ p. 173.] [Footnote 119: _Vasishtha_, xxiii. 14 _sq._] [Footnote 120: _Ibid._ xxiii. 18 _sqq._] [Footnote 121: Hardy, _Manual of Budhism_, p. 479.] [Footnote 122: Crooke, _Popular Religion and Folk-Lore of Northern India_, i. 269. Fawcett, 'Nâyars of Malabar,' in the Madras Government Museum's _Bulletin_, iii. 253.] The Old Testament mentions a few cases of suicide.[123] In none of them is any censure passed on the perpetrator of the deed, nor is there any text which expressly forbids a man to die by his own hand; and of Ahithophel it is said that he was buried in the sepulchre of his father.[124] It seems, however, that according to Jewish custom persons who had killed themselves should be left unburied till sunset,[125] perhaps for fear lest the spirit of the deceased otherwise might find its way back to the old home.[126] Josephus, who mentions this custom, denounces suicide as an act of cowardice, as a crime most remote from the common nature of all animals, as impiety against the Creator; and he maintains that the souls of those who have thus acted madly against themselves will go to the darkest place in Hades.[127] The Talmud considers suicide justifiable, if not meritorious, in the case of the chief of a vanquished army who is sure of disgrace and death at the hands of the exulting conqueror,[128] or when a person has {247} reason to fear being forced to renounce his religion.[129] In all other circumstances the Rabbis consider it criminal for a person to shorten his own life, even when he is undergoing tortures which must soon end his earthly career;[130] and they forbid all marks of mourning for a self-murderer, such as wearing sombre apparel and eulogising him.[131] Islam prohibits suicide, as an act which interferes with the decrees of God.[132] Muhammedans say that it is a greater sin for a person to kill himself than to kill a fellow-man;[133] and, as a matter of fact, suicide is very rare in the Moslem world.[134] [Footnote 123: _1 Samuel_, xxxi. 4 _sq._ _2 Samuel_, xvii. 23. _1 Kings_, xvi. 18. _2 Maccabees_, xiv. 4 _sqq._] [Footnote 124: _2 Samuel_, xvii. 23.] [Footnote 125: Josephus, _De bello Judaico_, iii. 8. 5.] [Footnote 126: _Cf._ Frazer, 'Burial Customs as illustrative of the Primitive Theory of the Soul,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xv. 72.] [Footnote 127: Josephus, _op. cit._ iii. 8. 5.] [Footnote 128: _Cf._ _1 Samuel_, xxxi. 4.] [Footnote 129: _Guittin_, 57 B, quoted by Mendelsohn, _Criminal Jurisprudence of the Ancient Hebrews_, p. 77, n. 163. _Cf._ _2 Maccabees_, xiv. 37 _sqq._] [Footnote 130: _Ab Zara_, 18 A, quoted by Mendelsohn, _op. cit._ p. 78, n. 163.] [Footnote 131: Mendelsohn, _op. cit._ p. 77.] [Footnote 132: _Koran_, iv. 33.] [Footnote 133: I have often heard this myself. _Cf._ Westcott, _Suicide_, p. 12.] [Footnote 134: Lisle, _Du suicide_, pp. 305, 345 _sq._ Legoyt, _Le suicide ancien et moderne_, p. 7. Morselli, _Il suicidio_, p. 33. Westcott, _op. cit._ p. 12.] Ancient Greece had its honourable suicides. The Milesian and Corinthian women, who by a voluntary death escaped from falling into the hands of the enemy, were praised in epigrams.[135] The story that Themistocles preferred death to bearing arms against his native country was circulated with a view to doing honour to his memory.[136] The tragedians frequently give expression to the idea that suicide is in certain circumstances becoming to a noble mind.[137] Hecuba blames Helena for not putting an end to her life by a rope or a sword.[138] Phaedra[139] and Leda[140] kill themselves out of shame, Haemon from violent remorse.[141] Ajax decides to die after having in vain attempted to kill the Atreidae, maintaining that "one of generous strain should nobly live, or forthwith nobly die."[142] Instances are, moreover, mentioned of women killing themselves on the death of their husbands;[143] and in Cheos it was the custom to prevent {248} the decrepitude of old age by a voluntary death.[144] At Athens the right hand of a person who had taken his own life was struck off and buried apart from the rest of the body,[145] evidently in order to make him harmless after death.[146] Plato says in his 'Laws,' probably in agreement with Attic custom, that those who inflict death upon themselves "from sloth or want of manliness," shall be buried alone in such places as are uncultivated and nameless, and that no column or inscription shall mark the spot where they are interred.[147] At Thebes self-murderers were deprived of the accustomed funeral ceremonies,[148] and in Cyprus they were left unburied.[149] The objections which philosophers raised against the commission of suicide were no doubt to some extent shared by popular sentiments. Pythagoras is represented as saying that we should not abandon our station in life without the orders of our commander, that is, God.[150] According to the Platonic Socrates, the gods are our guardians and we are a possession of theirs, hence "there may be reason in saying that a man should wait, and not take his own life until God summons him."[151] Aristotle, again, maintains that he who from rage kills himself commits a wrong against the State, and that therefore the State punishes him and civil infamy is attached to him.[152] The religious argument could not be foreign to a people who regarded it as impious interference in the order of nature to make a bridge over the Hellespont and to separate a landscape from the continent;[153] and the idea that suicide is a matter of public concern evidently prevailed in Massilia, where no man was allowed to make away with himself unless the magistrates had given him permission to do so.[154] But the {249} opinions of the philosophers were anything but unanimous.[155] Plato himself, in his 'Laws,' has no word of censure for him who deprives himself by violence of his appointed share of life under the compulsion of some painful and inevitable misfortune, or out of irremediable and intolerable shame.[156] Hegesias, surnamed the "death-persuader," who belonged to the Cyrenaic school, tried to prove the utter worthlessness and unprofitableness of life.[157] According to Epicurus we ought to consider "whether it be better that death should come to us, or we go to him."[158] The Stoics, especially, advocated suicide as a relief from all kinds of misery.[159] Seneca remarks that it is a man's own fault if he suffers, as, by putting an end to himself, he can put an end to his misery:--"As I would choose a ship to sail in, or a house to live in, so would I choose the most tolerable death when about to die. . . . Human affairs are in such a happy situation, that no one need be wretched but by choice. Do you like to be wretched? Live. Do you like it not? It is in your power to return from whence you came."[160] The Stoics did not deny that it is wrong to commit suicide in cases where the act would be an injury to society;[161] Seneca himself points out that Socrates lived thirty days in prison in expectation of death, so as to submit to the laws of his country, and to give his friends the enjoyment of his conversation to the last.[162] Epictetus opposes indiscriminate suicide on religious grounds:--"Friends, wait for God; when he shall give the signal and release you from this service, then go to him; but for the present endure to dwell in the place where he has put you."[163] Such a signal, however, is given often enough: it may consist in incurable disease, intolerable pain, or misery of any kind. "Remember this: the door is open; be not more timid {250} than little children, but as they say, when the thing does not please them, 'I will play no longer,' so do you, when things seem to you of such a kind, say I will no longer play, and be gone: but if you stay, do not complain."[164] Pliny says that the power of dying when you please is the best thing that God has given to man amidst all the sufferings of life.[165] [Footnote 135: Schmidt, _Die Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 443.] [Footnote 136: Diodorus Siculus, _Bibliotheca historica_, xi. 58. 2 _sq._] [Footnote 137: See Schmidt, _op. cit._ ii. 442 _sqq._] [Footnote 138: Euripides, _Troades_, 1012 _sqq._] [Footnote 139: _Idem_, _Hippolytus_, 715 _sqq._] [Footnote 140: _Idem_, _Helena_, 134 _sqq._] [Footnote 141: Sophocles, _Antigone_, 1234 _sqq._] [Footnote 142: _Idem_, _Ajax_, 470 _sqq._ _Cf._ _ibid._ 654 _sqq._] [Footnote 143: Euripides, _Supplices_, 1000 _sqq._ Pausanias, iv. 2. 7.] [Footnote 144: Strabo, _Geographica_, x. 5. 6, p. 486. Aelian, _Varia historia_, iii. 37. _Cf._ Boeckh, _Gesammelte kleine Schriften_, vii. 345 _sqq._; Welcker, _Kleine Schriften_, ii. 502 _sq._] [Footnote 145: Aeschines, _In Ctesiphontem_, 244.] [Footnote 146: Some Australian natives cut off the thumb of the right hand of a dead foe in order to make his spirit unable to throw the spear efficiently (Oldfield, in _Trans. Ethn. Soc._ N.S. iii. 287).] [Footnote 147: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 873.] [Footnote 148: Schmidt, _op. cit._ ii. 104.] [Footnote 149: Dio Chrysostom, _Orationes_, lxiv. 3.] [Footnote 150: Cicero, _Cato Major_, 20 (73).] [Footnote 151: Plato, _**Phædo_, p. 62.] [Footnote 152: Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, v. 11. 3.] [Footnote 153: See Schmidt, _op. cit._ ii. 83, 441; Rohde, _Psyche_, p. 202, n. 1.] [Footnote 154: Valerius Maximus, _Factorum dictorumque memorabilia_, ii. 6. 7.] [Footnote 155: See Geiger, _Der Selbstmord im klassischen Altertum_, p. 5 _sqq._] [Footnote 156: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 873.] [Footnote 157: Cicero, _Tusculanæ quæstiones_, i. 34 (83 _sq._). Valerius Maximus, viii. 9. Externa 3.] [Footnote 158: Epicurus, quoted by Seneca, _Epistulæ_, 26.] [Footnote 159: See Geiger, _op. cit._ p. 15 _sqq._] [Footnote 160: Seneca, _Epistulæ_, 70. See also _Idem_, _De ira_, iii. 15; _Idem_, _Consolatia ad Marciam_, 20.] [Footnote 161: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, i. 214, n. 1.] [Footnote 162: Seneca, _Epistulæ_, 70.] [Footnote 163: Epictetus, _Dissertationes_, i. 9. 16.] [Footnote 164: _Ibid._ i. 24. 20; i. 25. 20 _sq._; ii. 16. 37 _sqq._; iii. 13. 14; iii. 24. 95 _sqq._] [Footnote 165: Pliny, _Historia naturalis_, ii. 5 (7).] It seems that the Roman people, before the influence of Christianity made itself felt, regarded suicide with considerable moral indifference. According to Servius, it was provided by the Pontifical laws that whoever hanged himself should be cast out unburied;[166] but from what has been said before it is probable that this practice only owed its origin to fear of the dead man's ghost. Vergil enumerates self-murderers not among the guilty, but among the unfortunate, confounding them with infants who have died prematurely and persons who have been condemned to die on a false charge.[167] Throughout the whole history of pagan Rome there was no statute declaring it to be a crime for an ordinary citizen to take his own life. The self-murderer's rights were in no way affected by his deed, his memory was no less honoured than if he had died a natural death, his will was recognised by law, and the regular order of succession was not interfered with.[168] In Roman law there are only two noteworthy exceptions to the rule that suicide is a matter with which the State has nothing to do: it was prohibited in the case of soldiers,[169] and the enactment was made that the suicide of an accused person should entail the same consequences as his condemnation; but in the latter instance the deed was admitted as a confession of guilt.[170] On the other {251} hand, it seems to have been the general opinion in Rome that suicide under certain circumstances is an heroic and praiseworthy act.[171] Even Cicero, who professed the doctrine of Pythagoras,[172] approved of the death of Cato.[173] [Footnote 166: Servius, _Commentarii in Virgilii Æneidos_, xii. 603.] [Footnote 167: Vergil, _Æneis_, vi. 426 _sqq._] [Footnote 168: Bourquelot, 'Recherches sur les opinions et la législation en matière de mort volontaire pendant le moyen age,' in _Bibliothèque de l'École des Chartes_, iii. 544. Geiger, _op. cit._ p. 64 _sqq._ Bynkershoek, _Observationes Juris Romani_, iv. 4, p. 350.] [Footnote 169: _Digesta_, xlix. 16. 6. 7.] [Footnote 170: _Ibid._ xlviii. 21. 3 pr. _Cf._ Bourquelot, _op. cit._ iii. 543 sq.; Gibbon, _Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_, v. 326; Lecky, _History of European Morals_, i. 219.] [Footnote 171: Stäudlin, _Geschichte der Vorstellungen und Lehren vom Selbstmorde_, p. 62 _sq._] [Footnote 172: Cicero, _Cato Major_, 20 (72 _sq._).] [Footnote 173: _Idem_, _De officiis_, i. 31 (112).] In no question of morality was there a greater difference between classical and Christian doctrines than in regard to suicide. The earlier Fathers of the Church still allowed, or even approved of, suicide in certain cases, namely, when committed in order to procure martyrdom,[174] or to avoid apostacy, or to retain the crown of virginity. To bring death upon ourselves voluntarily, says Lactantius, is a wicked and impious deed; "but when urged to the alternative, either of forsaking God and relinquishing faith, or of expecting all torture and death, then it is that undaunted in spirit we defy that death with all its previous threats and terrors which others fear."[175] Eusebius and other ecclesiastical writers mention several instances of Christian women putting an end to their lives when their chastity was in danger, and their acts are spoken of with tenderness, if not approbation; indeed, some of them were admitted into the calendar of saints.[176] This admission was due to the extreme honour in which virginity was held by the Fathers; St. Jerome, who denied that it was lawful in times of persecution to die by one's own hands, made an exception for cases in which a person's chastity was at stake.[177] But even this exception was abolished by St. Augustine. He allows that the virgins who laid violent hands upon themselves are worthy of compassion, but declares that there was no necessity for their doing so, since chastity is a virtue of {252} the mind which is not lost by the body being in captivity to the will and superior force of another. He argues that there is no passage in the canonical Scriptures which permits us to destroy ourselves either with a view to obtaining immortality or to avoiding calamity. On the contrary, suicide is prohibited in the commandment, "Thou shalt not kill," namely, "neither thyself nor another"; for he who kills himself kills no other but a man.[178] This doctrine, which assimilates suicide with murder, was adopted by the Church.[179] Nay, self-murder was declared to be the worst form of murder, "the most grievous thing of all";[180] already St. Chrysostom had declared that "if it is base to destroy others, much more is it to destroy one's self."[181] The self-murderer was deprived of rights which were granted to all other criminals. In the sixth century a Council at Orleans enjoined that "the oblations of those who were killed in the commission of any crime may be received, except of such as laid violent hands on themselves";[182] and a subsequent Council denied self-murderers the usual rites of Christian burial.[183] It was even said that Judas committed a greater sin in killing himself than in betraying his master Christ to a certain death.[184] [Footnote 174: See Barbeyrac, _Traité de la morale des Pères de l'Église_, pp. 18, 122 _sq._; Buonafede, _Istoria critica e filosofica del suicidio_, p. 135 _sqq._; Lecky, _op. cit._ ii. 45 _sq._] [Footnote 175: Lactantius, _Divines Institutiones_, vi. ('De vero cultu') 17 (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, vi. 697).] [Footnote 176: Eusebius, _Historia ecclesiastica_, viii. 12 (Migne, _op. cit._ Ser. Graeca, xx. 769 _sqq._), 14 (_ibid._ col. 785 _sqq._). St. Ambrose, _De virginibus_, xiii. 7 (Migne, _op. cit._ xvi. 229 _sqq._). St. Chrysostom, _Homilia encomiastica in S. Martyrem Pelagiam_ (Migne, _op. cit._ Ser. Graeca, l. 579 sqq.).] [Footnote 177: St. Jerome, _Commentarii in Jonam_, i. 12 (Migne, _op. cit._ xxv. 1129).] [Footnote 178: St. Augustine, _De Civitate Dei_, i. 16 _sqq._] [Footnote 179: Gratian, _Decretum_, ii. 23. 5. 9. 3.] [Footnote 180: Thomas Aquinas, _Summa theologica_, ii.-ii. 64. 5. 3.] [Footnote 181: St. Chrysostom, _In Epistolam ad Galatas commentarius_, i. 4 (Migne, _op. cit._ Ser. Graeca, lxi. 618 _sq._).] [Footnote 182: _Concilium Aurelianense II._ A.D. 533, can. 15 (Labbe-Mansi, _Sacrorum Conciliorum collectio_, viii. 837). See also _Concilium Autisiodorense_, A.D. 578, can. 17 (Labbe-Mansi, ix. 913).] [Footnote 183: _Concilium Bracarense II._ A.D. 563, cap. 16 (Labbe-Mansi, _op. cit._ ix. 779).] [Footnote 184: Damhouder, _Praxis rerum criminalium_, lviii. 2 _sq._, p. 258. See Gratian, _op. cit._ ii. 33. 3. 3. 38. At the trial of the Marquise de Brinvilliers in 1676, the presiding judge said to the prisoner that "the greatest of all her crimes, horrible as they were, was, not the poisoning of her father and brothers, but her attempt to poison herself" (Ives, _Classification of Crimes_, p. 36).] According to the Christian doctrine, as formulated by Thomas Aquinas, suicide is utterly unlawful for three reasons. First, everything naturally loves itself and preserves itself in being; suicide is against a natural inclination and contrary to the charity which a man ought to bear towards himself, and consequently a mortal sin. {253} Secondly, by killing himself a person does an injury to the community of which he is a part. Thirdly, "life is a gift divinely bestowed on man, and subject to His power who 'killeth and maketh alive'; and therefore he who takes his own life sins against God, as he who kills another man's slave sins against the master to whom the slave belongs, and as he sins who usurps the office of judge on a point not referred to him; for to God alone belongs judgment of life and death."[185] The second of these arguments is borrowed from Aristotle, and is entirely foreign to the spirit of early Christianity. The notion of patriotism being a moral duty was habitually discouraged by it, and, as Mr. Lecky observes, "it was impossible to urge the civic argument against suicide without at the same time condemning the hermit life, which in the third century became the ideal of the Church."[186] But the other arguments are deeply rooted in some of the fundamental doctrines of Christianity--in the sacredness of human life, in the duty of absolute submission to God's will, and in the extreme importance attached to the moment of death. The earthly life is a preparation for eternity; sufferings which are sent by God are not to be evaded, but to be endured.[187] The man who deliberately takes away the life which was given him by the Creator displays the utmost disregard for the will and authority of his Master; and, worst of all, he does so in the very last minute of his life, when his doom is sealed for ever. His deed, as Thomas Aquinas says, is "the most dangerous thing of all, because no time is left to expiate it by repentance."[188] He who kills a fellow-creature does not in the same degree renounce the protection of God; he kills only the body, whereas the self-murderer kills both the body and the soul.[189] By denying the latter the right of Christian {254} burial the Church recognises that he has placed himself outside her pale. [Footnote 185: Thomas Aquinas, _op. cit._ ii.-ii. 64. 5.] [Footnote 186: Lecky, _History of European Morals_, ii. 44.] [Footnote 187: _Cf._ St. Augustine, _De Civitate Dei_, i. 23.] [Footnote 188: Thomas Aquinas, _op. cit._ ii.-ii. 64. 5. 3. _Cf._ St. Augustine, _De Civitate Dei_, i. 25.] [Footnote 189: Damhouder, _op. cit._ lxxxviii. 1 _sq._, p. 258.] The condemnation of the Church influenced the secular legislation. The provisions of the Councils were introduced into the law-books. In France Louis IX. enforced the penalty of confiscating the self-murderer's property,[190] and laws to the same effect were passed in other European countries.[191] Louis XIV. assimilated the crime of suicide to that of _lèze majesté_.[192] According to the law of Scotland, "self-murder is as highly criminal as the killing our neighbour."[193] In England suicide is still regarded by the law as murder committed by a man on himself;[194] and, unless declared insane, the self-murderer forfeited his property as late as the year 1870, when forfeitures for felony were abolished.[195] In Russia, to this day, the testamentary dispositions of a suicide are deemed void by the law.[196] [Footnote 190: _Les Établissements de Saint Louis_, i. 92, vol. ii. 150.] [Footnote 191: Bourquelot, _op. cit._ iv. 263. Morselli, _op. cit._ p. 196 _sq._] [Footnote 192: Louis XIV., 'Ordonnance criminelle,' A.D. 1670, xxii. 1, in Isambert, Decrusy, and Taillandier, _Recueil général des anciennes lois françaises_, xviii. 414.] [Footnote 193: Erskine-Rankine, _Principles of the Law of Scotland_, p. 559.] [Footnote 194: Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, iii. 104. For earlier times see Bracton, _De Legibus et Consuetudinibus Angliæ_, fol. 150, vol. ii. 504 _sq._] [Footnote 195: Stephen, _op. cit._ iii. 105.] [Footnote 196: Foinitzki, in von Liszt, _La législation pénale comparée_, p. 548.] The horror of suicide also found a vent in outrages committed on the dead body. Of a woman who drowned herself in Edinburgh in 1598, we are told that her body was "harled through the town backwards, and thereafter hanged on the gallows."[197] In France, as late as the middle of the eighteenth century, self-murderers were dragged upon a hurdle through the streets with the face turned to the ground; they were then hanged up with the head downwards, and finally thrown into the common sewer.[198] However, in most cases the treatment to which suicides bodies were subject was not originally meant as a punishment, but was intended to prevent their spirits {255} from causing mischief. All over Europe wandering tendencies have been ascribed to their ghosts.[199] In some countries the corpse of a suicide is supposed to make barren the earth with which it comes in contact,[200] or to produce hailstorms or tempests[201] or drought.[202] At Lochbroom, in the North-West of Scotland, the people believe that if the remains of a self-murderer be taken to any burying-ground which is within sight of the sea or of cultivated land, this would prove disastrous both to fishing and agriculture, or, in the words of the people, would cause "famine (or dearth) on sea and land"; hence the custom has been to inter suicides in out-of-the-way places among the lonely solitudes of the mountains.[203] The practice of burying them apart from other dead has been very wide-spread in Europe, and in many cases there are obvious indications that it arose from fear.[204] In the North-East of Scotland a suicide was buried outside a churchyard, close beneath the wall, and the grave was marked by a single large stone, or by a small cairn, to which the passing traveller was bound to cast a stone; and afterwards, when the suicide's body was allowed to rest in the churchyard, it was laid below the wall in such a position that no one could walk over the grave, as the people believed that if a woman enceinte stepped over such a {256} grave, her child would quit this earth by its own act.[205] In England persons against whom a coroner's jury had found a verdict of _felo de se_ were buried at cross-roads, with a stake driven through the body so as to prevent their ghosts from walking.[206] For the same purpose the bodies of {257} suicides were in many cases burned.[207] And when removed from the house where the act had been committed, they were commonly carried out, not by the door, but by a window,[208] or through a perforation specially made for the occasion in the door,[209] or through a hole under the threshold,[210] in order that the ghost should not find its way back into the house, or perhaps with a view to keeping the entrance of the house free from dangerous infection.[211] [Footnote 197: Ross, 'Superstitions as to burying Suicides in the Highlands,' in _Celtic Magazine_, xii. 354.] [Footnote 198: Serpillon, _Code Criminel_, ii. 223. _Cf._ Louis XIV., 'Ordonnance criminelle,' A.D. 1670, xxii. 1, in Isambert, Decrusy, and Taillandier, _op. cit._ xviii. 414.] [Footnote 199: Ross, in _Celtic Magazine_, xii. 352 (Highlanders of Scotland). Atkinson, _Forty Years in a Moorland Parish_, p. 217. Hyltén-Cavallius, _Wärend och Wirdarne_, i. 472 _sq._ (Swedes). Allardt, 'Nyländska folkseder och bruk,' in _Nyland_, iv. 114 (Swedish Finlanders). Wuttke, _Der deutsche Volksaberglaube der Gegenwart_, §756, p. 474 _sq._ Schiffer, 'Totenfetische bei den Polen,' in _Am Ur-Quell_, iii. 50 (Polanders), 52 (Lithuanians). Volkov, 'Der Selbstmörder in Lithauen,' _ibid._ v. 87. von Wlislocki, 'Tod und Totenfetische im Volkglauben der Siebenbürger Sachsen,' _ibid._ iv. 53. Lippert, _Christenthum, Volksglaube und Volksbrauch_, p. 391. Dyer, _The Ghost World_, pp. 53, 151. Gaidoz, 'Le suicide,' in _Mélusine_, iv. 12.] [Footnote 200: Schiffer, in _Am Ur-Quell_, iii. 52 (Lithuanians).] [Footnote 201: _Ibid._ pp. 50 (Polanders), 53 (Lithuanians). von Wlislocki, _Volksglaube und religiöser Brauch der Magyaren_, p. 61. Strausz, _Die Bulgaren_, p. 455. Prexl, 'Geburts- und Todtengebräuche der Rumänen in Siebenbürgen,' in _Globus_, lvii. 30.] [Footnote 202: Strausz, _op. cit._ p. 455 (Bulgarians).] [Footnote 203: Ross, in _Celtic Magazine_, xii. 350 _sq._] [Footnote 204: Gaidoz, in _Mélusine_, iv. 12. Frank, _System einer vollständigen medicinischen Polizey_, iv. 499. Moore, _op. cit._ i. 310 (Danes). Schiffer, in _Am Ur-Quell_, iii. 50 (Polanders), 53 (Lithuanians). Volkov, _ibid._ v. 87 (Lithuanians). Strausz, _op. cit._ p. 455 (Bulgarians).] [Footnote 205: Gregor, _Folk-Lore of the North-East of Scotland_, p. 213 _sq._] [Footnote 206: Stephen, _History of the Criminal Law of England_, iii. 105. Atkinson, _op. cit._ p. 217. This custom was formally abolished in 1823 by 4 Geo. IV. c. 52 (Stephen, _op. cit._ iii. 105). Why were suicides buried at cross-roads? Possibly because the cross was supposed to disperse the evil energy ascribed to their bodies. Both in Europe and India the cross-road has, since ancient times, been a favourite place to divest oneself of diseases or other influences (Wuttke, _Der deutsche Volksaberglaube der Gegenwart_, §§ 483, 484, 492, 508, 514, 522, 545, pp. 325, 326, 331, 341, 345, 349, 361. _Hymns of the Atharva-Veda_, pp. 272, 473, 519. Oldenberg, _Die Religion des Veda_, pp. 267, 268 n. 1). In the sacred books of India it is said that "a student who has broken the vow of chastity shall offer an ass to Nirriti on a cross-road" (_Gautama_, xxiii. 17), and that a person who has previously undergone certain other purification ceremonies "is freed from all crimes, even mortal sins, after looking on a cross-road at a pot filled with water, and reciting the text, 'Simhe me manyuh'" (_Baudhâyana_, iv. 7. 7). In the hills of Northern India and as far as Madras, an approved charm for getting rid of a disease of demoniacal origin is to plant a stake where four roads meet, and to bury grains underneath, which crows disinter and eat (_North Indian Notes and Queries_, i. § 652, p. 100; Madden, 'The Turaee and Outer Mountains of Kumaoon,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, xvii. pt. i. 583; Crooke, _Popular Religion and Folk-Lore of Northern India_, i. 290). In the Province of Bih[=a]r, "in cases of sickness various articles are exposed in a saucer at a cross-road" (Grierson, _Bih[=a]r Peasant Life_, p. 407). According to a Bulgarian tale, Lot was enjoined by the priest to plant on a cross-road three charred twigs in order to free himself from his sin (Strausz, _op. cit._ p. 115). The Gypsies of Servia believe that a thief may divert from himself all suspicions by painting with blood a cross and a dot above it on the spot where he committed the theft (von Wlislocki, 'Menschenblut im Glauben der Zigeuner,' in _Am Ur-Quell_, iii. 64 _sq._). In Morocco the cross is used as a charm against the evil eye, and the chief reason for this is, I believe, that it is regarded as a conductor of the baneful energy emanating from the eye, dispersing it in all the quarters of the wind and thus preventing it from injuring the person or object looked at (Westermarck, 'Magic Origin of Moorish Designs,' in _Jour. Anthr. Inst._ xxxiv. 214). In Japan, if a criminal belonging to one of the lower classes commits suicide, his body is crucified (_Globus_, xviii. 197). When, under Tarquinius Priscus (or Tarquinius Superbus), many Romans preferred voluntary death to compulsory labour in the _cloaca_, or artificial canals by which the sewage was carried into the Tiber, the king ordered that their bodies should be crucified and abandoned to birds and beasts of prey (Pliny, _Historia naturalis_, xxxvi. 24; Servius, _Commentarii in Virgilii Æneidos_, xii. 603). The reason for thus crucifying the bodies of self-murderers is not stated; but it is interesting to notice, in this connection, the idea expressed by some Christian writers that the cross of the Saviour symbolised the distribution of his benign influence in all directions (d'Ancona, _Origini del teatro italiano_, i. 646; Tauler, quoted by Peltzer, _Deutsche Mystik und deutsche Kunst_, p. 191. I am indebted to my friend Dr. Yrjö Hirn for drawing my attention to this idea). With reference to persons who had killed a father, mother, brother, or child, Plato says in his 'Laws' (ix. 873):--"If he be convicted, the servants of the judges and the magistrates shall slay him at an appointed place without the city where three ways meet, and there expose his body naked, and each of the magistrates on behalf of the whole city shall take a stone and cast it upon the head of the dead man, and so deliver the city from pollution; after that, they shall bear him to the borders of the land, and cast him forth unburied, according to law." The duels by which the ancient Swedes were legally compelled to repair their wounded honour were to be fought on a place where three roads met (Leffler, _Om den fornsvenska hednalagen_, p. 40 _sq._; _supra_, i. 502). In various countries it has been the custom to bury the dead at cross-roads (Grimm, 'Ueber das Verbrennen der Leichen,' in _Kleinere Schriften_, ii. 288 (Bohemians). Lippert, _Die Religionen der europäischen Culturvölker_, p. 310 (Slavonians); Winternitz, _Das altindische Hochzeitsrituell_, p. 68; Oldenberg, _Die Religion des Veda_, pp. 267, 268, 562 n. 3)--a custom which may have given rise to the idea that cross-roads are haunted (Winternitz, _op. cit._ p. 68; Oldenberg, _op. cit._ p. 267 _sq._; _cf._ Wuttke, _op. cit._ § 108, p. 89 _sq._).] [Footnote 207: Bourquelot, _loc. cit._ iv. 263. Hyltén-Cavallius, _op. cit._ i. 459; Nordström, _Bidrag till den svenska samhälls-författningens historia_, ii. 331 (Swedes), von Wlislocki, 'Tod und Totenfetische im Volkglauben der Siebenbürger Sachsen,' in _Am Ur-Quell_, iv. 53.] [Footnote 208: Wuttke, _op. cit._ § 756, p. 474; Frank, _op. cit._ iv. 498 _sq._; Lippert, _Der Seelencult_, p. 11 (people in various parts of Germany). Schiffer, in _Am Ur-Quell_, iii. 50 (Polanders).] [Footnote 209: Bourquelot, _loc. cit._ iv. 264 (at Abbeville).] [Footnote 210: Grimm, _Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer_, p. 726 _sqq._ Hyltén-Cavallius, _op. cit._ i. 472 _sq._ (Swedes).] [Footnote 211: See _infra_, on Regard for the Dead. Contact with a self-murderer's body is considered polluting (Prexl, 'Geburts- und Todtengebräuche der Rumänen in Siebenbürgen,' in _Globus_, lvii. 30; Hyltén-Cavallius, _Wärend och Wirdarne_, i. 459, 460, and ii. 412). We are told that in the eighteenth century people did not dare to cut down a person who had hanged himself, though he was found still alive (Frank, _op. cit._ iv. 499). Among the Bannavs of Cambodia **everybody who takes part in the burial of a self-murderer is obliged to undergo a certain ceremony of purification, whereas no such ceremony is prescribed in the case of other burials (_Mittheil. d. Geogr. Ges. zu Jena_, iii. 9).] However, side by side with the extreme seventy with which suicide is viewed by the Christian Church, we find, even in the Middle Ages, instances of more humane feelings towards its perpetrator. In mediæval tales and ballads true lovers die together and are buried in the same grave; two roses spring through the turf and twine lovingly together.[212] In the later Middle Ages, says M. {258} Bourquelot, "on voit qu'à mesure qu'on avance, l'antagonisme devient plus prononcé entre l'esprit religieux et les idées mondaines relativement à la mort volontaire. Le clergé continue à suivre la route qui a été tracée par Saint Augustin et à déclarer le suicide criminel et impie; mais la tristesse et le désespoir n'entendent pas sa voix, ne se souviennent pas de ses prescriptions."[213] The revival of classical learning, accompanied as it was by admiration for antiquity and a desire to imitate its great men, not only increased the number of suicides, but influenced popular sentiments on the subject.[214] Even the Catholic casuists, and later on philosophers of the school of Grotius and others, began to distinguish certain cases of legitimate suicide, such as that committed to avoid dishonour or probable sin, or that of a condemned person saving himself from torture by anticipating an inevitable death, or that of a man offering himself to death for the sake of his friend.[215] Sir Thomas More, in his Utopia, permits a person who is suffering from an incurable and painful disease to take his own life, provided that he does so with the agreement of the priests and magistrates; nay, he even maintains that these should exhort such a man to put an end to a life which is only a burden to himself and others.[216] Donne, the well-known Dean of St. Paul's, wrote in his younger days a book in defence of suicide, "a Declaration," as he called it, "of that paradoxe, or thesis, that Self-homicide is not so naturally sin, that it may never be otherwise." He there pointed out the fact--which ought never to be overlooked by those who derive their arguments from "nature"--that some things may be natural to the species, and yet not natural to every individual member of it.[217] In one of his essays Montaigne pictures classical cases of suicide with colours of unmistakable sympathy. "La plus volontaire mort," he {259} observes, "c'est la plus belle. La vie despend de la volonté d'aultruy; la mort, de la nostre."[218] The rationalism of the eighteenth century led to numerous attacks both upon the views of the Church and upon the laws of the State concerning suicide. Montesquieu advocated its legitimacy:--"La société est fondée sur un avantage mutuel; mais lorsqu'elle me devient onéreuse, qui m'empêche d'y renoncer? La vie m'a été donnée comme une faveur; je puis donc la rendre lorsqu'elle ne l'est plus: la cause cesse, l'effet doit donc cesser aussi."[219] Voltaire strongly opposed the cruel laws which subjected a suicide's body to outrage and deprived his children of their heritage.[220] If his act is a wrong against society, what is to be said of the voluntary homicides committed in war, which are permitted by the laws of all countries? Are they not much more harmful to the human race than self-murder, which nature prevents from ever being practised by any large number of men?[221] Beccaria pointed out that the State is more wronged by the emigrant than by the suicide, since the former takes his property with him, whereas the latter leaves his behind.[222] According to Holbach, he who kills himself is guilty of no outrage on nature or its author; on the contrary, he follows an indication given by nature when he parts from his sufferings through the only door which has been left open. Nor has his country or his family any right to complain of a member whom it has no means of rendering happy, and from whom it consequently has nothing more to hope.[223] Others eulogised suicide when committed for a noble end,[224] or recommended it on certain occasions. "Suppose," says Hume, "that it is no longer in my {260} power to promote the interest of society; suppose that I am a burthen to it; suppose that my life hinders some person from being much more useful to society. In such cases my resignation of life must not only be innocent but laudable."[225] Hume also attacks the doctrine that suicide is a transgression of our duty to God. "If it would be no crime in me to divert the Nile from its course, were I able to do so, how could it be a crime to turn a few ounces of blood from their natural channel? Were the disposal of human life so much reserved as the peculiar province of the Almighty that it were an encroachment on his right for men to dispose of their own lives, would it not be equally wrong of them to lengthen out their lives beyond the period which by the general laws of nature he had assigned to it? My death, however voluntary, does not happen without the consent of Providence; when I fall upon my own sword, I receive my death equally from the hands of the Deity as if it had proceeded from a lion, a precipice, or a fever."[226] [Footnote 212: See Bourquelot, _loc. cit._ iv. 248; Gummere, _Germanic Origins_, p. 322.] [Footnote 213: Bourquelot, _loc. cit._ iv. 253.] [Footnote 214: _Ibid._ iv. 464. Morselli, _op. cit._ p. 35.] [Footnote 215: Buonafede, _op. cit._ p. 148 _sqq._ Lecky, _op. cit._ ii. 55.] [Footnote 216: More, _Utopia_, p. 122.] [Footnote 217: Donne, _Biathanatos_, p. 45. Donne's book was first committed to the press in 1644, by his son.] [Footnote 218: Montaigne, _Essais_, ii. 3 (_[OE]uvres_, p. 187).] [Footnote 219: Montesquieu, _Lettres Persanes_, 76 (_[OE]uvres_, p. 53).] [Footnote 220: Voltaire, _Commentaire sur le livre Des délits et des peines_, 19 (_[OE]uvres complètes_, v. 416). _Idem_, _Prix de la justice et de l'humanité_, 5 (_ibid._ v. 424).] [Footnote 221: _Idem_, _Note to Olympie acte v. scène_ 7 (_[OE]uvres complètes_, i. 826, n. _b_). _Idem_, _Dictionnaire Philosophique_, art. Suicide (_ibid._ viii. 236).] [Footnote 222: Beccaria, _Dei delitti e delle pene_, § 35 (_Opere_, i. 101).] [Footnote 223: Holbach, _Système de la nature_, i. 369.] [Footnote 224: In the early part of the nineteenth century this was done by Fries, _Neue oder anthropologische Kritik der Vernunft_, iii. 197.] [Footnote 225: Hume, 'Suicide,'in _Philosophical Works_, iv. 413.] [Footnote 226: _Ibid._ p. 407 _sqq._] Thus the main arguments against suicide which had been set forth by pagan philosophers and Christian theologians were scrutinised and found unsatisfactory or at least insufficient to justify that severe and wholesale censure which was passed on it by the Church and the State. But a doctrine which has for ages been inculcated by the leading authorities on morals is not easily overthrown; and when the old arguments are found fault with new ones are invented. Kant maintained that a person who disposes of his own life degrades the humanity subsisting in his person and entrusted to him to the end that he might uphold it.[227] Fichte argued that it is our duty to preserve our life and to will to live, not for the sake of life, but because our life is the exclusive condition of the realisation of the moral law through us.[228] According to Hegel it is a contradiction to speak of a person's right over his life, since this would {261} imply a right of a person over himself, and no one can stand above and execute himself.[229] Paley, again, feared that if religion and morality allowed us to kill ourselves in any case, mankind would have to live in continual alarm for the fate of their friends and dearest relations[230]--just as if there were a very strong temptation for men to shorten their lives. But common sense is neither a metaphysician nor a sophist. When not restrained by the yoke of a narrow theology, it is inclined in most cases to regard the self-murderer as a proper object of compassion rather than of condemnation, and in some instances to admire him as a hero. The legislation on the subject therefore changed as soon as the religious influence was weakened. The laws against suicide were abolished in France by the Revolution,[231] and afterwards in various other continental countries;[232] whilst in England it became the custom of jurymen to presume absence of a sound mind in the self-murderer--perjury, as Bentham said, being the penance which prevented an outrage on humanity.[233] These measures undoubtedly indicate not only a greater regard for the innocent relatives of the self-murderer, but also a change in the moral ideas concerning the act itself**. [Footnote 227: Kant, _Metaphysische Anfangungsgründe der Tugendlehre_, p. 73.] [Footnote 228: Fichte, _Das System der Sittenlehre_, p. 339 _sqq._ See also _ibid._ pp. 360, 391.] [Footnote 229: Hegel, _Grundlinien der Philosophie des Rechts_, § 70, Zusatz, p. 72.] [Footnote 230: Paley, _Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy_, iv. 3 (_Complete Works_, ii. 230).] [Footnote 231: Legoyt, _op. cit._ p. 109.] [Footnote 232: Bourquelot, _loc. cit._ iv. 475.] [Footnote 233: Bentham, _Principles of Penal Law_, ii. 4. 4 (_Works_, i. 479 _sq._).] As appears from this survey of facts, the moral valuation of suicide varies to an extreme degree. It depends partly on the circumstances in which the act is committed, partly on the point of view from which it is regarded and the notions held about the future life. When a person sacrifices his life for the benefit of a fellow-man or for the sake of his country or to gratify the supposed desire of a god, his deed may be an object of the highest praise. It may, further, call forth approval or admiration as indicating a keen sense of honour or as a test of courage; in Japan, says Professor Chamberlain, "the courage to take {262} life--be it one's own or that of others--ranks extraordinarily high in public esteem."[234] In other cases suicide is regarded with indifference as an act which concerns the agent alone. But for various reasons it is also apt to give rise to moral disapproval. The injury which the person committing it inflicts upon himself may excite sympathetic resentment towards him; he may be looked upon as injurer and injured at the same time. Plato asks in his 'Laws':--"What ought he to suffer who murders his nearest and so-called dearest friend? I mean, he who kills himself."[235] And the same point of view is conspicuous in St. Augustine's argument, that the more innocent the self-murderer was before he committed his deed the greater is his guilt in taking his life[236]--an argument of particular force in connection with a theology which condemns suicides to everlasting torments and which regards it as a man's first duty to save his soul. The condemnation of killing others may by an association of ideas lead to a condemnation of killing one's self,[237] as is suggested by the Christian doctrine that suicide is prohibited in the commandment, "Thou shalt not kill." The horror which the act inspires, the fear of the malignant ghost, and the defiling effect attributed to the shedding of blood, also tend to make suicide an object of moral reprobation or to increase the disapproval of it;[238] and the same is the case with the exceptional treatment to which the self-murderer's body is subject and his supposed annihilation or miserable existence after death, which easily come to be looked upon in the light of a punishment.[239] Suicide is, moreover, blamed as an act of moral cowardice,[240] and, especially, as an injury inflicted upon other persons, to whom the agent {263} owed duties from which he withdrew by shortening his life.[241] Even among savages we meet with the notion that a person is not entitled to treat himself just as he pleases. Among the Goajiro Indians of Colombia, if anybody accidentally cuts himself, say with his own knife, or breaks a limb, or otherwise does himself an injury, his family on the mother's side immediately demands blood-money, since, being of their blood, he is not allowed to spill it without paying for it; the father's relatives demand tear-money, and friends present claim compensation to repay their sorrow at seeing a friend in pain.[242] That a similar view is sometimes taken by savages with regard to suicide appears from a few statements quoted above.[243] The opinion that suicide is an offence against society at large is particularly likely to prevail in communities where the interests of the individual are considered entirely subordinate to the interests of the State. The religious argument, again, that suicide is a sin against the Creator, an illegitimate interference with his work and decrees, comes to prominence in proportion as the moral consciousness is influenced by theological considerations. In Europe this influence is certainly becoming less and less. And considering that the religious view of suicide has been the chief cause of the extreme severity with which it has been treated in Christian countries, I am unable to subscribe to the opinion expressed by Professor Durkheim, that the more lenient judgment passed on it by the public conscience of the present time is merely accidental and transient. The argument adduced in support of this opinion leaves out of account the real causes to which the valuation of suicide is due: it is said that the moral evolution is not likely to be retrogressive in this particular point after it has followed {264} a certain course for centuries.[244] It is true that moral progress has a tendency to increase our sense of duty towards our fellow-men. But at the same time it also makes us more considerate as regards the motives of conduct; and--not to speak of suicides committed for the benefit of others--the despair of the self-murderer will largely serve as a palliation of the wrong which he may possibly inflict upon his neighbour. [Footnote 234: Chamberlain, _Things Japanese_, p. 221.] [Footnote 235: Plato, _Leges_, ix. 873.] [Footnote 236: St. Augustine, _De Civitate Dei_, i. 17.] [Footnote 237: See Simmel, _Einleitung in die Moralwissenschaft_, i. 187.] [Footnote 238: _Cf._ _supra_, i. 377.] [Footnote 239: See _supra_, ii. 237 _sqq._; Josephus, _De bello Judaico_, iii. 8. 5; Plato, _Leges_, ix. 873; Aristotle, _Ethica Nicomachea_, v. 11. 2 _sq._] [Footnote 240: Hegel, _Grundlinien der Philosophie des Rechts_, § 70, Zusatz, p. 72; Fowler, _Progressive Morality_, p. 151; &c.] [Footnote 241: English lawyers have represented suicide as an offence both against God and against the sovereign, who "has an interest in the preservation of all his subjects" (Plowden, _Commentaries_, i. 261; Blackstone, _Commentaries on the Laws of England_, iv. 190. _Cf._ Ives, _op. cit._ p. 40 _sq._).] [Footnote 242: Simons, 'Exploration of the Goajira Peninsula,' in _Proceed. Roy. Geo. Soc._ N. Ser. vii. 790.] [Footnote 243: _Supra_, ii. 240 _sq._] [Footnote 244: Durkheim, _Le suicide_, p. 377.] CHAPTER XXXVI SELF-REGARDING DUTIES AND VIRTUES--INDUSTRY--REST ACCORDING to current ideas men owe to themselves a variety of duties similar in kind to those which they owe to their fellow-creatures. They are not only forbidden to take their own lives, but are also in some measure considered to be under an obligation to support their existence, to take care of their bodies, to preserve a certain amount of personal freedom, not to waste their property, to exhibit self-respect, and, in general, to promote their own happiness. And closely related to these self-regarding duties there are self-regarding virtues, such as diligence, thrift, temperance. In all these cases, however, the moral judgment is greatly influenced by the question whether the act, forbearance, or omission, which increases the person's own welfare, conflicts or not with the interests of other people. If it does conflict, opinions vary as to the degree of selfishness which is recognised as allowable. But judgments containing moral praise or the inculcation of duty are most commonly passed upon conduct which involves some degree of self-sacrifice, not on such as involves self-indulgence. Moreover, the duties which we owe to ourselves are generally much less emphasised than those which we owe to others. "Nature," says Butler, "has not given us so sensible a disapprobation of imprudence and folly, either in ourselves or others, as of falsehood, injustice, and {266} cruelty."[1] Nor does a prudential virtue receive the same praise as one springing from a desire to promote the happiness of a fellow-man. Many moralists even maintain that, properly speaking, there are no self-regarding duties and virtues at all; that useful action which is useful to ourselves alone is not matter for moral notice; that in every case duties towards one's self may be reduced into duties towards others; that intemperance and extravagant luxury, for instance, are blamable only because they tend to the public detriment, and that prudence is a virtue only in so far as it is employed in promoting public interest.[2] But this opinion is hardly in agreement with the ordinary moral consciousness. [Footnote 1: Butler, 'Dissertation on the Nature of Virtue,' in _Analogy of Religion, &c._ p. 339.] [Footnote 2: Hutcheson, _Inquiry into the Original of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue_, pp. 133, 201. Grote, _Treatise on the Moral Ideals_, p. 77 _sqq._ Clifford, _Lectures and Essays_, pp. 298, 335. von Jhering, _Der Zweck im Recht_, ii. 225.] It is undoubtedly true that no mode of conduct is exclusively self-regarding. No man is an entirely isolated being, hence anything which immediately affects a person's own welfare affects at the same time, in some degree, the welfare of other individuals. It is also true that the moral ideas concerning such conduct as is called self-regarding are more or less influenced by considerations as to its bearing upon others. But this is certainly not the only factor which determines the judgment passed on it. In the education of children various modes of self-regarding conduct are strenuously insisted upon by parents and teachers. What they censure or punish is regarded as wrong, what they praise or reward is regarded as good; for, as we have noticed above, men have a tendency to sympathise with the retributive emotions of persons for whom they feel regard.[3] Moreover, as in the case of suicide,[4] so also in other instances of self-inflicted harm, the injury committed may excite sympathetic resentment towards the agent, although the victim of it is his own self. Disinterested likes or dislikes often give rise to moral {267} approval or disapproval of conduct which is essentially self-regarding.[5] It has also been argued that no man has a right to trifle with his own well-being even where other persons interests are not visibly affected by it, for the reason that he is not entitled wantonly to waste "what is not at his unconditional disposal."[6] And in various other ways--as will be seen directly--religious, as well as magical, ideas have influenced moral opinions relating to self-regarding conduct. But at the same time it is not difficult to see why self-regarding duties and virtues only occupy a subordinate place in our moral consciousness. The influence they exercise upon other persons' welfare is generally too remote to attract much attention. In education there is no need to emphasise any other self-regarding duties and virtues but those which, for the sake of the individual's general welfare, require some sacrifice of his immediate comfort or happiness. The compassion which we are apt to feel for the victim of an injury is naturally lessened by the fact that it is self-inflicted. And, on the other hand, indignation against the offender is disarmed by pity, imprudence commonly carrying its own punishment along with it.[7] [Footnote 3: _Supra_, i. 114 _sq._] [Footnote 4: _Supra_, ii. 262.] [Footnote 5: _Cf._ _supra_, i. 116 _sq._] [Footnote 6: Martineau, _Types of Ethical Theory_, ii. 126.] [Footnote 7: _Cf._ Butler, _op. cit._ p. 339 _sq._; Dugald Stewart, _Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers of Man_, ii. 346 _sq._] Being so little noticed by custom and public opinion, and still less by law, most self-regarding duties hardly admit of a detailed treatment. In a general way it may be said that progress in intellectual culture has, in some respects, been favourable to their evolution; Darwin even maintains that, with a few exceptions, self-regarding virtues are not esteemed by savages.[8] The less developed the intellect, the less apt it is to recognise the remoter consequences of men's behaviour; hence more reflection than that exercised by the savage may be needed to see that modes of conduct which immediately concern a person's own welfare at the same time affect the well-being {268} of his neighbours or the whole community of which he is a member. So also, owing to his want of foresight, the savage would often fail to notice how important it may be to subject one's self to some temporary deprivation or discomfort in order to attain greater happiness in the future. We have noticed above that many savages hardly ever correct their children,[9] and this means that one of the chief sources from which the notions of self-regarding duties spring is almost absent among them. But on the other hand it must also be remembered that disinterested antipathies, another cause of such notions, exercise more influence upon the unreflecting than upon the reflecting moral consciousness, and that many magical and religious ideas which at the lower stages of civilisation give rise to duties of a self-regarding character are no longer held by people more advanced in culture. [Footnote 8: Darwin, _Descent of Man_, p. 118 _sq._] [Footnote 9: _Supra_, i. 513 _sq._] These general statements referring to the nature and origin of self-regarding duties and virtues I shall now illustrate by a short survey of moral ideas concerning some representative modes of self-regarding conduct:--industry and rest; temperance, fasting, and abstinence from certain kinds of food and drink; cleanliness and uncleanliness; and ascetic practices generally. * * * * * Man is naturally inclined to idleness, not because he is averse from muscular activity as such, but because he dislikes the monotony of regular labour and the mental exertion it implies.[10] In general he is induced to work only by some special motive which makes him think the trouble worth his while. Among savages, who have little care for the morrow,[11] who have few comforts of life to provide for, and whose property is often of such a kind as to prevent any great accumulation of it, almost the sole inducement to industry is either necessity or compulsion. Men are lazy or industrious according as the necessaries of life are easy {269} or difficult to procure, and they prefer being idle if they can compel other persons to work for them as their servants or slaves. [Footnote 10: _Cf._ Ferrero, 'Les formes primitives du travail,' in _Revue scientifique_, ser. iv. vol. v. 331 _sqq._] [Footnote 11: Buecher, _Die Entstehung der Volkswirtschaft_, p. 21 _sqq._] Australian natives "can exert themselves vigorously when hunting or fishing or fighting or dancing, or at any time when there is a prospect of an immediate reward; but prolonged labour with the object of securing ultimate gain is distasteful to them."[12] With reference to the Polynesians Mr. Hale observes that in those islands which are situated nearest the equator, where the heat with little or no aid from human labour calls into existence fruits serving to support human life, the inhabitants are an indolent and listless race; whilst "a severer clime and ruder soil are favourable to industry, foresight, and a hardy temperament. These opposite effects are manifested in the Samoans, Nukahivans, and Tahitians, on the one side, and the Sandwich Islanders and New Zealanders on the other."[13] Mr. Yate likewise contrasts the industry of the Maoris with the proverbial idleness of the Tonga Islanders: the former "are obliged to work, if they would eat," whereas "in the luxurious climate of the Friendly Islands, there is scarcely any need of labour, to obtain the necessaries, and even many of the luxuries, of life."[14] The Malays are described as fond of a life of slothful ease, because "persevering toil is unnecessary, or would bring them no additional enjoyments."[15] The natives of Sumatra, says Marsden, "are careless and improvident of the future, because their wants are few; for though poor {270} they are not necessitous, nature supplying, with extraordinary facility, whatever she has made requisite for their existence."[16] The Toda of the Neilgherry Hills will not "work one iota more than circumstances compel him to do";[17] and indolence seems to be a characteristic of most peoples of India,[18] though there are exceptions to the rule.[19] Burckhardt observes that it is not the southern sun, as Montesquieu imagined, but the luxuriance of the southern soil and the abundance of provisions that relax the exertions of the inhabitants and cause apathy:--"By the fertility of Egypt, Mesopotamia, and India, which yield their produce almost spontaneously, the people are lulled into indolence; while in neighbouring countries, of a temperature equally warm, as among the mountains of Yemen and Syria, where hard labour is necessary to ensure a good harvest, we find a race as superior in industry to the former as the inhabitants of Northern Europe are to those of Spain or Italy."[20] Indolence is a common,[21] though not universal,[22] trait of the African character. Of the Negroes on the Gold Coast Bosman says that "nothing {271} but the utmost necessity can force them to labour."[23] The Waganda are represented as excessively indolent, in consequence of the ease with which they can obtain all the necessaries of life.[24] Of the Namaquas we are told that "they may be seen basking in the sun for days together, in listless inactivity, frequently almost perishing from thirst or hunger, when with very little exertion they may have it in their power to satisfy the cravings of nature. If urged to work, they have been heard to say: 'Why should we resemble the worms of the ground?'"[25] Most of the American Indians are said to have a slothful disposition, because they can procure a livelihood with but little labour.[26] But the case is different with the Greenlanders and other Eskimo, who have to struggle hard for their existence.[27] [Footnote 12: Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of Victoria_, i. 29 _sq._ See also _ibid._ ii. 248; Collins, _English Colony in New South Wales_, i. 601; Fison and Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 259 _sq._] [Footnote 13: Hale, _U.S. Exploring Expedition. Vol. VI. Ethnography and Philology_, p. 17. See also Williams, _Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea Islands_, p. 534 (Samoans); Ellis, _Polynesian Researches_, i. 130 _sq._ (Tahitians); Brenchley, _Cruise of H.M.S. Curaçoa among the South Sea Islands_, p. 58 (natives of Tutuila); Melville, _Typee_, p. 287 (some Marquesas Islanders); Anderson, _Notes of Travel in Fiji and New Caledonia_, p. 236 (New Caledonians); Penny, _Ten Years in Melanesia_, p. 74 (Solomon Islanders).] [Footnote 14: Yate, _Account of New Zealand_, p. 105 _sq._] [Footnote 15: McNair, _Perak and the Malays_, p. 201. Bock, _Head-Hunters of Borneo_, p. 275. Raffles, _History of Java_, i. 251. St. John, _Life in the Forests of the Far East_, ii. 323.] [Footnote 16: Marsden, _History of Sumatra_, p. 209. See also _Glimpses of the Eastern Archipelago_, pp. 76, 87 (Bataks).] [Footnote 17: Marshall, _A Phrenologist amongst the Todas_, p. 88. See also _ibid._ p. 86; Shortt, 'Hill Tribes of the Neilgherries,' in _Trans. Ethn. Soc._ N.S. vii. 241; Mantegazza, 'Studii sull' etnologia dell' India,' in _Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia_, xiii. 406.] [Footnote 18: Cooper, _Mishmee Hills_, p. 100 (Assamese). Tickell, 'Memoir on the Hodésum,' in _Jour. Asiatic Soc. Bengal_, ix. 808 (Hos). Dalton, _Ethnology of Bengal_, pp. 57 (Jyntias and Kasias), 101 (Lepchas). Burton, _Sindh_, p. 284. Moorcroft and Trebeck, _Travels in the Himalayan Provinces of Hindustan_, i. 321 (Ladakhis). Caldwell, _Tinnevelly Shanars_, p. 58.] [Footnote 19: Man, _Sonthalia_, p. 19. Hodgson, _Miscellaneous Essays_, i. 152 (Bódo and Dhimáls). Macpherson, _Memorials of Service in India_, p. 81 (Kandhs).] [Footnote 20: Burckhardt, _Arabic Proverbs_, p. 219.] [Footnote 21: Beltrame, _Il Sénnaar_, i. 166. Tuckey, _Expedition to Explore the River Zaire_, p. 369. Johnston, _The River Congo_, p. 402 (Bakongo). Casati, _Ten Years in Equatoria_, i. 85 (Abaka Negroes). Wilson and Felkin, _Uganda_, ii. 310 (Gowane people). Burton, _Zanzibar_, ii. 96 (Wanika). Bonfanti, 'L'incivilimento dei negri nell' Africa intertropicale,' in _Archivio per l'antropologia e la etnologia_, xv. 133 (Bantu). Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 231 (Herero). Magyar, _Reisen in Süd-Afrika_, p. 290 (Kimbunda). Kropf, _Das Volk der Xosa-Kaffern_, p. 89. Tyler, _Forty Years among the Zulus_, p. 194. Ellis, _History of Madagascar_, i. 140. Shaw, 'Betsileo Country and People,' in _Antananarivo Annual_, iii. 81.] [Footnote 22: Baker, _Ismailïa_, p. 56 (Shilluk). Baumann, _Usambara_, p. 244 (Wapare). Bosman, _Description of the Coast of Guinea_, p. 318 (Negroes of Fida). Andersson, _Notes on Travel in South Africa_, p. 235 (Ovambo). See also _infra_, p. 272.] [Footnote 23: Bosman, _op. cit._ p. 101.] [Footnote 24: Wilson and Felkin, _op. cit._ i. 225.] [Footnote 25: Andersson, _Lake Ngami_, p. 335. See also Kolben, _Present State of the Cape of Good-Hope_, i. 46, 324; Barrow, _Travels into the Interior of Southern Africa_, i. 152; Fritsch, _Die Eingeborenen Süd-Afrika's_, p. 324 (Hottentots).] [Footnote 26: Bridges, 'Manners and Customs of the Firelanders,' in _A Voice for South America_, xiii. 203 (Fuegians). Dobrizhoffer, _Account of the Abipones_, ii. 151; but he praises the Abiponian women for their unwearied industry (_ibid._ ii. 151 _sq._). Brett, _Indian Tribes of Guiana_, p. 343; Kirke, _Twenty-five Years in British Guiana_, p. 150. Domenech, _Seven Years' Residence in the Great Deserts of North America_, ii. 190. Burton, _City of the Saints_, p. 126 (Sioux). Harmon, _Voyages and Travels in the Interior of North America_, p. 285 (Tacullies). Meares, _Voyages to the North-West Coast of America_, p. 265 (Nootkas).] [Footnote 27: Cranz, _History of Greenland_, i. 126. Armstrong, _Narrative of the Discovery of the North-West Passage_, p. 196 (Western Eskimo).] We have seen that savages consider it a duty for a married man to support his family,[28] and this in most cases implies that he is under an obligation to do a certain amount of work. We have also seen that the various occupations of life are divided between the sexes according to rules fixed by custom,[29] and this means that absolute idleness is not generally tolerated in either men or women, though the drudgeries of life are often imposed upon the latter. Of some uncivilised peoples we are directly told that they enjoin work as a duty or regard industry as a virtue. The Greenlanders esteem addiction to labour as the chief of virtues and believe that the industrious man {272} will have a very happy existence after death.[30] The Atkha Aleuts prohibited laziness.[31] Mr. Batchelor relates an Ainu fable which encourages diligence and discourages idleness in young people.[32] The Karens of Burma have a traditional precept which runs, "Be not idle, but labour diligently, that you may not become slaves."[33] The Maoris say, "Let industry be rewarded, lest idleness gets the advantage."[34] The Malagasy likewise inculcate industry in many of their proverbs.[35] The Basutos have a saying that "perseverance always triumphs."[36] Among the Bachapins, a Bechuana tribe conspicuous for its activity, "a man's merit is estimated principally by his industry, and the words _mún[)o]n[)a] usináach[)a]_ (an industrious man) are an expression of high approbation and praise; while he who is seldom seen to hunt, to prepare skins for clothing, or to sew koboes, is accounted a worthless and disgraceful member of society."[37] Among the Beni M'zab in the Sahara--an industrious people inhabiting a sterile country--boys are already at the age of six years compelled by law to begin to work, either in driving a camel or ass, or in drawing water for the gardens.[38] We may expect to find industry especially insisted upon by uncivilised peoples who are habitually addicted to it, partly because it is a necessity among them, partly owing to the influence of habit. [Footnote 28: _Supra_, i. 526 _sqq._] [Footnote 29: _Supra_, i. 634 _sqq._] [Footnote 30: Cranz, _op. cit._ i. 186.] [Footnote 31: Yakof, quoted by Petroff, _Report on Alaska_, p. 158.] [Footnote 32: Batchelor, _Ainu of Japan_, p. 111.] [Footnote 33: Smeaton, _Loyal Karens of Burma_, p. 255.] [Footnote 34: Taylor, _Te Ika a Maui_, p. 293. See also Johnston, _Maoria_, p. 43.] [Footnote 35: Clemes, 'Malagasy Proverbs,' in _Antananarivo Annual_, iv. 29.] [Footnote 36: Casalis, _Basutos_, p. 310.] [Footnote 37: Burchell, _Travels in the Interior of Southern Africa_, ii. 557.] [Footnote 38: Tristram, _The Great Sahara_, p. 207 _sq._] But instead of being regarded as a duty, industrial activity is not infrequently looked down upon as disreputable for a free man. This is especially the case among warlike nations, nomadic tribes, and peoples who have many slaves. In Uganda, for instance, the prevalence of slavery "causes all manual labour to be looked upon as derogatory to the dignity of a free man."[39] The {273} Masai[40] and Matabele[41] consider that the only occupation which becomes a man is warfare. The Arabs of the desert hold labour humiliating to anybody but a slave.[42] Speaking of the Turkomans, Vámbéry observes that "in his domestic circle, the nomad presents us a picture of the most absolute indolence. In his eyes it is the greatest shame for a man to apply his hand to any domestic occupation."[43] The Chippewas "have ever looked upon agricultural and mechanical labours as degrading," and "have regarded the use of the bow and arrow, the war-club and spear, as the noblest employments of man."[44] Among the Iroquois "the warrior despised the toil of husbandry, and held all labour beneath him."[45] Though an industrious race, the Maoris considered it more honourable, as well as more desirable, to acquire property by war and plunder than by labour.[46] Among the Line Islanders it is undignified for a landholder to do work of any kind, except to make weapons, hence he employs persons of the lower class to work for him.[47] In Nukahiva the people of distinction "suffer the nails on the fingers to grow very long, that it may be evident they are not accustomed to hard labour."[48] This contempt for industrial activity is easy to explain. A man who earns his livelihood by labour is considered to be lacking in those qualities which are alone admired--courage and strength;--or work is associated with the idea of servile subjection. It is also universally held degrading for a man to engage in any occupation which belongs to the women.[49] Thus among hunting and pastoral peoples it would be quite out of place for him to supply the household with vegetable food.[50] On the other hand, when agriculture became an {274} indispensable means to maintenance of life it at the same time became respectable. But trade was scorned, probably, as Mr. Spencer suggests, because it was carried on chiefly by unsettled persons, who were detached, untrustworthy members of a community in which most men had fixed positions.[51] The Kandhs "consider it beneath their dignity to barter or traffic, and . . . . regard as base and plebeian all who are not either warriors or tillers of the soil."[52] The Javans "have a contempt for trade, and those of higher rank esteem it disgraceful to be engaged in it; but the common people are ever ready to engage in the labours of agriculture, and the chiefs to honour and encourage agricultural industry."[53] [Footnote 39: Wilson and Felkin, _op. cit._ i. 186.] [Footnote 40: Merker, _Die Masai_, p. 117.] [Footnote 41: Holub, 'Die Ma-Atabele,' in _Zeitschr. f. Ethnol._ xxv. 198.] [Footnote 42: Burton, _Pilgrimage to Al-Madinah & Meccah_, ii. 10.] [Footnote 43: Vámbéry, _Travels in Central Asia_, p. 320.] [Footnote 44: Schoolcraft, _Archives of Aboriginal Knowledge_, v. 150.] [Footnote 45: Morgan, _League of the Iroquois_, p. 329.] [Footnote 46: Travers, 'Life and Times of Te Rauparaha,' in _Trans. New Zealand Inst._ v. 29.] [Footnote 47: Tutuila, 'Line Islanders,' in _Jour. Polynesian Soc._ i. 266.] [Footnote 48: von Langsdorf, _Voyages and Travels_, i. 174.] [Footnote 49: _Supra_, i. 636 _sq._] [Footnote 50: _Supra_, i. 634.] [Footnote 51: Spencer, _Principles of Ethics_, i. 429.] [Footnote 52: Campbell, _Wild Tribes of Khondistan_, p. 50.] [Footnote 53: Raffles, _op. cit._ i. 246 _sq._] Progress in civilisation implies an increase of industry. Both the necessities and the comforts of life grow more numerous; hence more labour is required to provide for them, and at the same time there is more inducement to accumulate wealth. The advantages, both private and public, accruing from diligence are more clearly recognised, and the government, in particular, is anxious that the people should work so as to be able to pay their taxes. All this leads to condemnation of idleness and approbation of industry; and the influence of habit must operate in the same direction among a nation whose industrial propensities have been the cause of its civilisation. But in the archaic State war is still regarded as a nobler occupation than labour; and whilst agriculture is held in honour, trade and handicraft are frequently despised. In the kingdom of the Peruvian Incas there was a law that no one should be idle. "Children of five years old were employed at very light work, suitable to their age. Even the blind and lame, if they had no other infirmity, were provided with certain kinds of work. The rest of the people, while they were healthy, were occupied each at his own labour, and it was a most infamous and degrading {275} thing among these people to be chastised in public for idleness."[54] If any of them was slothful, or slept in the day, he was whipped or had to carry the stone.[55] The reason for these measures was that the whole duty of defraying the expenses of the government belonged to the people, and that, without money and with little property, they paid their taxes in labour; hence to be idle was, in a manner, to rob the exchequer.[56] [Footnote 54: Blas Valera, quoted by Garcilasso de la Vega, _First Part of the Royal Commentaries of the Yncas_, ii. 34. See also _ibid._ ii. 14; Acosta, _Natural and Moral History of the Indies_, ii. 413.] [Footnote 55: Herrera, _General History of the West Indies_, iv. 339.] [Footnote 56: Prescott, _History of the Conquest of Peru_, i. 57.] One of the characteristics of Zoroastrianism is its appreciation of labour.[57] The faithful man must be vigilant, alert, and active; sleep itself is merely a concession to the demons, and should therefore be kept within the limits of necessity.[58] The lazy man is the most unworthy of men, because he eats his food through impropriety and injustice.[59] And of all kinds of labour the most necessary is husbandry.[60] Man has been placed upon earth to preserve Ahura Mazda's good creation, and this can only be done by careful tilling of the soil, eradication of thorns and weeds, and reclamation of the tracks over which Angra Mainyu has spread the curse of barrenness. Zoroaster asked, "What is the food that fills the Religion of Mazda?" and Ahura Mazda answered, "It is sowing corn again and again, O Spitama Zarathustra! He who sows corn sows righteousness."[61] According to Xenophon, the king of the Persians considered the art of agriculture and that of war to be the most honourable and necessary occupations, and paid the greatest attention to both.[62] He appointed officers to overlook the tillers of the ground, as well as to collect tribute from them; for "those who {276} cultivate the ground inefficiently will neither maintain the garrisons, nor be able to pay their tribute."[63] [Footnote 57: See Darmesteter, in _Sacred Books of the East_, iv. p. lxvii.; Geiger, _Civilization of the Eastern Ir[=a]nians_, i. 70; Rawlinson, _Religions of the Ancient World_, p. 108; _Dînâ-î Maînôg-î Khirad_, ii. 29, xxxvi. 15, xxxvii. 14, &c.] [Footnote 58: _Vendîdâd_, xviii. 16.] [Footnote 59: _Dînâ-î Maînôg-î Khirad_, xxi. 27.] [Footnote 60: See _Vendîdâd_, iii. 23 _sqq._] [Footnote 61: _Ibid._ iii. 30 _sq._] [Footnote 62: Xenophon, _[OE]conomicus_, iv. 4, 8 _sqq._] [Footnote 63: Xenophon, _[OE]conomicus_, iv. 9, 11.] In his description of ancient Egypt Herodotus tells us that one of its kings made a law to the effect that every Egyptian should annually declare to the governor of his district by what means he maintained himself, and that, if he failed to do this, or did not show that he lived by honest means, he should be punished with death.[64] Whether this statement be correct or not,[65] it seems certain that the Egyptians were anxious to encourage industry.[66] An ostracon which has often been quoted contains the maxim, "Do not spare thy body whilst thou art young, for food cometh by the arms and provisions by the legs."[67] [Footnote 64: Herodotus, ii. 177. _Cf._ Diodorus Siculus, _Bibliotheca historica_, i. 77. 5.] [Footnote 65: _Cf._ Wiedemann, _Herodots zweites Buch_, p. 605.] [Footnote 66: See Amélineau, _Essai sur l'évolution des idées morales dans l'Égypte Ancienne_, p. 329.] [Footnote 67: Gardiner, 'Egyptian Ethics,' in Hastings' _Encyclopædia of Religion and Ethics_, v. 484.] A law against idleness resembling that which is reported to have existed in Egypt was established at Athens, according to some writers by Draco or Pisistratus,[68] according to others by Solon, who is said to have borrowed it from the Egyptians.[69] Plutarch states that, as the city was filled with persons who assembled from all parts on account of the great security which prevailed in Attica and the country withal was poor and barren, Solon turned the attention of the citizens to manufactures. For this purpose he ordered that trades should be accounted honourable, that the council of the Areopagus should examine into every man's means of subsisting and chastise the idle, and that no son should be obliged to maintain his father if the father had not taught him a trade.[70] Thucydides puts the following words in the mouth of Pericles:--"To avow poverty with us is no disgrace; the true disgrace is in doing nothing to avoid it. An Athenian citizen does not neglect the State because he takes care of his own household;{277} and even those of us who are engaged in business have a very fair idea of politics."[71] In Xenophon's 'Memorabilia' Socrates recommends industry as a means of supporting life, of maintaining the health and strength of the body, of promoting temperance and honesty.[72] According to Plato idleness is the mother of wantonness, whereas by labour the aliment of passion is diverted into other parts of the body.[73] Agriculture was highly praised. It is the best of all the occupations and arts by which men procure the means of living.[74] Where it flourishes all other pursuits are in full vigour, but when the ground is allowed to lie barren other occupations are almost stopped.[75] It is an exercise for the body, and strengthens it for discharging the duties that become a man of honourable birth.[76] It requires people to accustom themselves to endure the colds of winter and the heats of summer.[77] It renders them fit for running, throwing, leaping.[78] It gives them the greatest gratification for their labour, it is the most attractive of all employments.[79] It receives strangers with the richest hospitality.[80] It offers the most pleasing first-fruits to the gods, and the richest banquets on festival days.[81] It teaches men justice, for it is those who treat the earth best that she recompenses with the most numerous benefits.[82] It instructs people to assist one another, for it cannot be conducted without the aid of other men.[83] It does not give such constant occupation to a person's mind as to prevent him from attending to the interests of his friends or his native land.[84] The possession of an estate stimulates men to defend their country in arms.[85] In short, agriculture renders citizens most useful, most virtuous, and best affected towards the commonwealth.[86] [Footnote 68: Pollux, _Onomasticum_, viii. 42. Diogenes Laertius, _Vitæ philosophorum_, i. 55. Plutarch, _Solon_, xxxi. 6.] [Footnote 69: Herodotus, ii. 177. Diodorus Siculus, i. 77. 5.] [Footnote 70: Plutarch, _Solon_, xxii. 1, 3 _sq._] [Footnote 71: Thucydides, _Historia belli Peloponnesiaci_, ii. 40. 1 _sq._] [Footnote 72: Xenophon, _Memorabilia_, ii. 7. 7 _sq._] [Footnote 73: Plato, _Leges_, viii. 835, 841.] [Footnote 74: Xenophon, _[OE]conomicus_, vi. 8.] [Footnote 75: _Ibid._ v. 17.] [Footnote 76: _Ibid._ v. 1; vi. 9.] [Footnote 77: _Ibid._ v. 4.] [Footnote 78: _Ibid._ v. 8.] [Footnote 79: _Ibid._ v. 8, 11.] [Footnote 80: _Ibid._ v. 8.] [Footnote 81: _Ibid._ v. 10.] [Footnote 82: _Ibid._ v. 12.] [Footnote 83: _Ibid._ v. 14.] [Footnote 84: _Ibid._ vi. 9.] [Footnote 85: _Ibid._ v. 7.] [Footnote 86: _Ibid._ vi. 10.] {278} The argumentative manner in which these views were expressed by the philosophers indicates, however, that industrial occupations were deficient in public appreciation.[87] Herodotus says that not only among most barbarians but also throughout Greece those who are given wholly to war are honoured above others.[88] This was especially the case at Sparta, where a freeman was forbidden to engage in any industrial occupation.[89] Contrasting Lycurgus' legislation with that of Solon, Plutarch observes that in a state where the earth was sufficient to support twice the number of inhabitants and where there were a multitude of Helots to be worn out by servitude, it was right to set the citizens free from laborious and mechanic arts and to employ them in arms as the only art fit for them to learn and exercise.[90] At Thebes there was a law that no man could hold office who had not retired from business for ten years, because it was looked upon as a mean employment.[91] Even at Athens, in spite of its democratic institutions and its laws against idleness, trade and handicrafts were despised, both by the general public and by the philosophers. Xenophon's Socrates said that the industrial arts are objectionable and justly held in little repute in communities, because they weaken the bodies of those who work at them by compelling them to sit and to live indoors and in some cases to pass whole days by the fire; for when the body becomes effeminate the mind loses its strength.[92] Moreover, mechanical occupations leave those who practise them no leisure to attend to the interests of their friends or the commonwealth, hence men of that class seem unsuited alike to be of advantage to their connections and to be defenders of their country.[93] Plato maintains that manual arts are a reproach because they "imply a natural weakness of the higher principle";[94] by {279} their meanness they maim and disfigure the souls as well as the bodies of those who are employed in them.[95] When Hesiod said that "work is no disgrace,"[96] he could certainly not have meant that there was no disgrace for example in the manufacture of shoes or in selling pickles.[97] And in his 'Laws' Plato lays down the regulation that no citizen or servant of a citizen should be occupied in handicraft arts; "for he who is to secure and preserve the public order of the State has an art which requires much study and many kinds of knowledge, and does not admit of being made a secondary occupation."[98] Aristotle, again, observes that in a community which has an aristocratic form of government the mechanic and the labourer will not be citizens, because honours are there given according to virtue and merit, and "no man can practise virtue who is living the life of a mechanic or labourer."[99] Corinth was the place in Greece where the mechanic's occupation was least despised[100]--no doubt because its situation naturally led to extensive trade and thence to that splendour of living by which the useful and ornamental arts are most encouraged.[101] [Footnote 87: _Cf._ Schmidt, _Die Ethik der alten Griechen_, ii. 435 _sqq._] [Footnote 88: Herodotus, ii. 167.] [Footnote 89: _Ibid._ ii. 167. Xenophon, _Lacedæmoniorum respublica_, vii. 2. Plutarch, _Lycurgus_, xxiv. 2. _Idem_, _Agesilaus_, xxvi. 6. Aelian, _Varia historia_, vi. 6.] [Footnote 90: Plutarch, _Solon_, xxii. 2.] [Footnote 91: Aristotle, _Politica_, iii. 5. 7, p. 1278 a; vi. 7. 4, p. 1321 a.] [Footnote 92: Xenophon, _[OE]conomicus_, iv. 2.] [Footnote 93: _Ibid._ iv. 3.] [Footnote 94: Plato, _Respublica_, ix. 590.] [Footnote 95: _Ibid._ vi. 495.] [Footnote 96: Hesiod, _Opera et dies_, 311.] [Footnote 97: Plato, _Charmides_, p. 163.] [Footnote 98: _Idem_, _Leges_, viii. 846.] [Footnote 99: Aristotle, _Politica_, iii. 5. 5, p. 1278 a. See also _ibid._ vi. 4. 12, p. 1319 a; vii. 8. 3, p. 1328 b; viii. 2. 4 _sq._ p. 1337 b.] [Footnote 100: Herodotus, ii. 167.] [Footnote 101: See Rawlinson's note in his translation of Herodotus, ii. 252, n. 7.] The Roman views on the subject were very similar to those of the Greeks. With regard to what arts and means of acquiring wealth are to be regarded as worthy and what disreputable, says Cicero, we have been taught as follows. In the first place, those sources of emolument which incur public hatred, such as those of tax-gatherers and usurers, are condemned. We are likewise to account as mean the gains of hired workmen, whose source of profit is not their art but their labour; for their very wages are the consideration of their servitude. We are further to despise all who retail from merchants goods for prompt sale; for they never can succeed unless they lie most abominably, {280} and nothing is more disgraceful than insincerity. All mechanical labourers are by their profession mean; for a workshop can contain nothing befitting a gentleman. Least of all are those trades to be approved that serve the purposes of sensuality, such as the occupations of butchers, cooks, and fishermen. But those professions that involve a higher degree of intelligence or a greater amount of utility, such as medicine, architecture, and the teaching of the liberal arts, are honourable in those to whose rank in life they are suited. As to merchandising, if on a small scale it is mean, but if it is extensive and rich, if it brings numerous commodities from all parts of the world, and gives bread to a multitude of people without fraud, it is not so despicable. However, if a merchant, satisfied with his profits, steps from the harbour into an estate, such a man seems most justly deserving of praise. For of all gainful professions nothing is better, nothing is more pleasing and more delightful, nothing is more befitting a well-bred man than agriculture.[102] [Footnote 102: Cicero, _De officiis_, i. 42. See also _Idem_, _Cato Major_, ch. 15 _sqq._] The contempt in which manual labour was held by the ancient pagans could hardly be shared by early Christianity. Christ had been born in a carpenter's family, his apostles belonged to the working class, and so did originally most of his followers. Origen accepts with pride the reproach of Celsus, when he accuses Christians of worshipping the son of a poor workwoman, who had earned her bread by spinning,[103] and contrasts with the wisdom of Plato that of Paul, the tent-maker, of Peter, the fisherman, of John, who had abandoned his father's nets.[104] St. Paul presses on the Thessalonians the duty of personal industry; "if any one would not work, neither should he eat."[105] But at the same time the spirit of Christianity was not consistent with much anxiety about earthly matters. The aim of a true disciple of Christ was not to prosper in the world but {281} to seek the kingdom of God, not to lay up for himself treasures upon earth but to lay up for himself treasures in heaven.[106] Poverty became an ideal, in conformity with both the example and teachings of Christ. It was associated with godliness, whilst wealth was associated with godlessness.[107] "The love of money," says St. Paul, "is the root of all evil";[108] and the same idea was over and again expressed by Christian moralists.[109] In the original sinless state of mankind property was unknown, and so was labour. It was to punish man for his disobedience that God caused him to eat daily bread in the sweat of his face.[110] Since then work is a necessity; but the contemplative life is better than the active life.[111] Bonaventura points out that Jesus preferred the meditating Mary to the busy Martha,[112] and that he himself seems to have done no work till his thirtieth year.[113] Work is of no value by itself; its highest object is to further contemplation, to macerate the body, to curb concupiscence.[114] For this purpose, indeed, it was strongly insisted upon by several founders of religious orders. According to St. Benedict, "idleness is an enemy to the soul; and hence at certain seasons the brethren ought to occupy themselves in the labour of their hands, and at others in holy reading."[115] St. Bernard writes:--"The handmaid of Christ ought always to pray, to read, to work, lest haply the spirit of uncleanness should lead astray the slothful mind. The delight of the flesh is overcome by labour. . . . The body tired by work is less delighted with vice."[116] But the active life must not be pursued to such an extent as to hinder what it is intended to promote; {282} for it is impossible for any man to be at once occupied with exterior actions and at the same time apply himself to divine contemplation.[117] And whilst he who has nothing else to live upon is bound to work, it is a sin to try to acquire riches beyond the limit which necessity has fixed.[118] [Footnote 103: Origen, _Contra Celsum_, i. 28 _sq._ (Migne, _Patrologiæ cursus_, Ser. Graeca, xi. 714 _sq._).] [Footnote 104: _Ibid._ vi. 7 (Migne, Ser. Gr. xi. 1298 _sq_.).] [Footnote 105: _1 Thessalonians_, iv. 11; _2