r LATENT IMPULSE IN HISTORY AND POLITICS To MY MOTHER LATENT IMPULSE IN HISTORY AND POLITICS BY R. N. BRADLEY, B.A. LONDON : MURRAY & EVENDEN PLEYDELL HOUSE PLEYDELL STREET, FLEET STREET, E.G. PREFACE. IN reading over this work before sending it to press, I am affected by some small misgivings. I feel that if I wrote it over again I might write it somewhat differently, for I have not yet arrived at the age when ideas begin to permanently crys- tallise. Any faults of style and exaggerations of opinion I beg the reader to ascribe to immaturity ; any errors in fact to the defect of circumstances, for the book was written in the heart of South Africa. In spite of all, however, I put forward my general theories of latent impulse with good heart, for every subsequent experience I have met with has tended to confirm them. R. N. B. /aw., 1911. LATENT IMPULSE IN HISTORY AND POLITICS CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. A FITTING exordium to my undertaking should be a tribute to him who first directed my ideas upon it, and first taught me to take broad views of history, as of many other things a tribute which can now, alas ! only be paid to his memory. Before I heard him, history was, to me, but a dry catalogue from which one might, by monastic studiousness, load up one's mind with a fairly complete concatenation of facts, or, at best, an interesting tale, in which event followed upon event without any definite causation. The change which Dr. Emil Reich's lectures brought to pass in me was comparable to a similar one which occurred to a friend of mine, when certain ad- ministrative changes moved him from a Govern- ment office in London to an out-station. In the former he tells me he was sunk in an atmosphere of unreality, and although he could see that io LATENT IMPULSE everything was settled there whatever the news- papers had to say on the lines of common sense, or on the balance of probabilities, yet you could not get away from the fact that it was all pure abstraction, the letter without the reality. After the move he was plunged into a world of actuality, and the words became things and per- sons, solid matter, flesh and blood. It was very much the same with Dr. Reich's lectures, and yet not quite the same. I had always read J. R. Green, and surely if anyone can give flesh to the dry bones of history, it is he. But the in- fluence of the new method was rather to give one a feeling of " throughth," or, even, without going so far as the fourth dimension, of thick- ness, where one had formerly only dealt with length and breadth. " Concentrate, gentlemen, concentrate," the Doctor would say, having, in characteristic fashion, set his class a problem to solve by discussion, in place of the orthodox lecture. That, I think, is what we learnt more than anything else concentration ; the hasty col- lection of all the relevant things we knew in history, literature, science, and bringing them to bear on the point at issue. And then, again, when the answer was long in coming, " Focus, gentlemen, focus!" It was as if his main idea was to wean us from the monastic methods instilled at the Universities, and to make us hammer out something for ourselves, our own handiwork; or to let the broad light of philo- IN HISTORY AND POLITICS u sophy dwell upon a spot until it germinated and blossomed. In " Mr. Isaacs " Mr. Marion Crawford draws a comparison between the Eastern and the Western methods of learning, the European toiling laboriously up each ladder of learning in turn, the Asiatic refining his mind by prayer and fasting until, as he sits on his mountain peak, he gradually perceives the little patches of known country below widen beneath his view, until by intuition the whole field has re- vealed itself to him in a continuous area. How this latter system would commend itself to the doctor, with his cosmopolitan ideas, his world-wide experience, his varied knowledge, and his rooted distrust of ''authorities." Many of his views cannot be accepted; he may err too greatly on the side of originality ; often one feels that he says things out of sheer perverseness ; but it remains that he brings into being ideas which none of the older methods could have engen- dered, lays his finger on facts that had otherwise passed unnoticed, and shows that some forgotten event was the prime factor in an earth-shaking movement. " Nullum est jam dictum, quod non sit dictum prius," said the Latin poet, when he wished to tell us that there was nothing new under the sun ; and the Doctor was always the first to admit that his startling theories were no new thing. But his merit was by " concen- tration," by " focussing," to show that that dry- as-dust sentence, glossed over in the old history 12 LATENT IMPULSE book was the ruling consideration, and should have been printed in capital letters. Some watch- word may have hounded on a people to a great and successful revolution; but the watchword was not new by any means; no more than the discovery of the power of steam was new when Watt and Stephenson applied it. The important fact was that the time was ripe for the use of the discovery, and in the same way it was ripe for the watchword. But it is doubtful whether the time was quite ripe for some of the Reichian views. I am inclined to think he was a little too far ahead of us, for our immediate advantage. Some of his more original ideas on a few of the great events in English and general history set me thinking, and when, later on, I took up in a rather dilettante fashion, the study of psy- chology I suppose owing to the fact that this was the only subject upon which I could find ?ny wealth of books in the up-country library in South Africa, where I happened to be placed I began to see a connection between the ideas of latent impulse and collective psychology, which I have adumbrated in this book. Had I not gone further than the original ideas in try- ing to investigate them psychologically, and, moreover, had I not taken a wider field than the original examples afforded, I might lay myself open to a plea of unwarrantable plagiarism. Yet even if I were so placed, I might attempt to IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 13 justify myself with the " nullum est jam dictum," and meet critics with the reply that it is simply impossible to say anything original. I will, however, attempt to " focus," to " concentrate," to cut a new cross-section in the well-exploited mass of historical matter. To show how true the Latin quotation is, I might point out that even in classic antiquity it had been stated that great disturbances arose out of small things, indeed, but on account of great ones; in other words, that the proximate facts out of which great events arose were very dif- ferent from the real underlying causes. And so, when Dr. Reich affirmed that the American War of Independence arose neither out of Stamp Acts nor Tea Duties, nor even an innate feeling of disloyalty to British regime, he merely gave further instances of an old truth. These were but the sparks, the pretexts, and if these had not come to hand, doubtless others would have been forthcoming. That the real underlying cause was the great Hinterland question, will be a sub- ject for consideration later on. It may seem at times that I am endeavouring to upset the old notions and traditions, which have stood their ground for centuries in history, and to substitute something cheap and startling, something in the nature of a nostrum. Such is not my intention, and if the reasons which I offer are not the true ones, I stand open to correc- tion. But science is playing havoc with tradi- 14 LATENT IMPULSE tion, an'd much as we cherished the ideas in which we were brought up, we cannot place ourselves in a false position by holding to them when they appear to be no longer true. There is a tendency nowadays to bring back every effect, however psychological or spiritual, to some simple material cause, and there is much truth in the assertion that the state of the digestion is answer- able for many far-reaching developments. Recent psychological research has tended to corroborate this manner of thought. In following it, one must take the risk of incurring a charge of materialism, even of scurrilous levity. For in- stance, in dealing with the American Civil War, although I have, what seems to me, excellent authority for my contentions, it may be thought that I am somewhat iconoclastic with regard to President Lincoln and the general anti-slavery sentiments of his day. I shall strive to make it clear, however, that my respect for this great man's reputation is unabated, and that the noble sentiments that actuated many of his country- men at the time have my honour and esteem. My idea is that they were not the tide, but rather the billows borne upon its surface. Their aims were accepted because they were in a line with the hidden impulse of the masses behind them. The aims were the same, but the grounds of them differed. In the earlier part of this book I propose to treat of certain striking historical events, with a IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 15 view to showing that there was some strong motive force behind them, a force which was not obvious at the time, but could only be discovered afterwards. Later, I propose to deal with the psychological grounds for supposing that latent impulse exists. In the concluding chapters I shall attempt to elucidate the historical problems in the light of the psychological arguments. CHAPTER II. LATENT IMPULSE. WITH many events in history it is all plain sail- ing, and if we read our books without thinking, it is plain sailing with all of them that is, if we read history as a mere chronology of events. Fortunately the old system of learning the sub- ject by means of a string of dates, and a list of kings is gradually dying out, and a broader and more logical method, especially since J. R. Green set a bright example in his " History of the Eng- lish People/' is coming into vogue. Not that I think that a foundation of dates is not useful, as a kind of array of milestones upon the road. But we do not want to neglect the road for the mile- stones, and readers of Dr. Reid's " Principles of Heredity ' ' will acknowledge the importance of warding off a deleterious influence from a child in its earliest and most plastic years. The child who has first learnt its history from a string of dates will probably continue to study it as a bead-roll of events merely concatenated by the necessities of chronology. It is too much to expect every body to be born again, and to sud- denly begin to look upon this wilderness of 16 IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 17 words as something of flesh and blood and spirit. Better far start with the general and, as necessity demands, narrow down to the particular and the details. But even if we read history in the broader light, many of the events will seem to drop harmoniously into the system of cause and effect. A people are oppressed, and they rebel ; a new country is discovered, and the discoverers reap the benefit in wealth and prosperity. All this is quite clear, and brilliant and sympathetic descriptions will paint us a vivid picture, enabling us to grasp the situation, and live with the heroes and the sufferers. Then we may go casually on and read how the leader of the down-trodden becomes their general, their dictator, their Emperor after all this bloodshed in the cause of freedom ! Blinded by the glamour of descrip- tion, and the romance of the story, we may fail to pause here and ask " Why?" There must surely have been some subtle reason, unknown at the time to the French people themselves, which induced them to give their life blood to Napoleon, when they had rebelled at the taxes of the Bourbons. There are many places like this where the thoughtful will halt and take stock of the situa- tion. They occur both in Ancient and Modern History, and as wars have usually entailed the greatest sacrifices, and aroused the greatest en- thusiasm, it is chiefly in respect of them that B i8 LATENT IMPULSE such considerations arise. In a broad-minded analytical age like our own, it is difficult for the student in his arm-chair to appreciate the attitude of mind of those who offer for some ideal, which is surely part of life, the life in which alone the ideal could be realised. To the philosopher the game is not worth the candle. But the world has never been made up of philosophers, and so these great events have taken place, and history has been written by the heart, not by the hand. It is this heart that I wish to study in these pages, not the logical parts of history, but her illogicalities, and I will endeavour to show that, judged by the heart, the heart is justified. I have used the expression " Latent Impulse, " a term which from a scientific point of view may be considered open to criticism. Psychologically an impulse means rather a sudden reaction to a stimulus, and can scarcely be applied to those stable and persistent feelings which I am about to describe. But I am not writing psychology, and the ordinary parlance used when one says he did a thing by impulse rather than by con- sideration may be well applied to such generali- ties as are here treated of. If the term " collec- tive emotion " had not been appropriated for a specific kind of emotion, perhaps it would be more suitable here. But as it has already been ear-marked, it cannot be used. Besides, the term " emotion,'* used outside the sphere of pure IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 19 psychology might be misunderstood. The term " latent," too, may be open to question, inas- much as the " latency" is only existent for a time, and then perhaps only relatively. Still, for a general treatise I think the phrase may stand, since the associations called up by the words express my meaning better perhaps than more truly scientific terms could. Yet perhaps this " latency " is not of so ephemeral duration as one might at first be led to suppose. If it were, the ground would be cut away from my feet and there would be no reason for this book. Many are the results of great popular movements, and it is only on deliberate scrutiny that the real intent can be ascertained. A profound politician or philosopher may be able, even during the upheaval, to see what the purpose is that lies beneath a people's actions, out for this he must stand very much aloof from popular feelings. A patriot would be debarred by his patriotism, a zealot by his zeal. The diviner of these things must be aloof either in outlook or in point of time, and, on the whole, I think, it may be stated that no true history can be written until a century or so have elapsed after the events. Otherwise you cannot see the wood for trees, and your perspective and sense of pro- portion are out. At any rate, if we desire to discover that blind purpose which urged a people on to a certain end in an ^overwhelming and unaccountable 20 LATENT IMPULSE manner, we must be able to look back over a series of years, so as to judge of events and their results as a whole. The key to the problem is then afforded us, if we search diligently and circumspectly, for usually the thing that the people wanted was what, in the main, they got. So our arguments will be ex post facto, and we shall be prophets after the event. But the pro- blems are not so easy as they may appear at first sight. What did the Americans get by the War of Independence? Their Independence? Why then their admiration of the old institutions, the feudal associations, belonging to the Old Coun- try ? If we say " The Hinterland across the Alle- ghanies in unfettered possession/* we shall probably be nearer the mark. "Hinterland" and " Enclave 1 ' are magic words in this connection, and the territorial feel- ing connected with them will be investigated in due course. They bring us close to the primal instincts of the human race, and of life itself, the instinct of food and nourishment. We shall also have instances of this instinct in its bare unvarnished state, when some of the great trade disputes are dealt with. Then we have " collec- tive feeling," a remnant of the old " clan " and "pack" days, and it will often appear in the guise of " Nationalism." Times of stress and international entanglement will show a sinking of individuality and a resignation to the will of a single despot, recalling the trustful emotion of IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 21 the child. And, outside the sphere of events, we shall have to touch on great religious movements and investigate their underlying spirit; also strange unreasoning antipathies. This is a wide field, and until the science of psychology has emerged from its infancy, and we know more about the principles of heredity, many of the questions can have no answer. If, however, I am able merely to arouse an interest in the sub- ject I have undertaken, and to show the advan- tage of the application of psychology to historical problems, as Dr. Archdall Reid has shown the intimate connection of Pathology with Evolu- tion, and of both with Sociology, I shall feel that my labour has been by no means vain. CHAPTER III. THE PELOPONNESIAN AND PUNIC WARS. MODERN history is so much richer in personality, so much nearer to our sympathies, that far greater attention has been given to its reasons and motives than has been the case with events prior to the Christian Era. This is doubtless in part owing to modern specialisation, which keeps the Classic to his classics, and the Modern to his modernities. Later history has a necessary bearing even on the politics of our own day, and a freer field has been open in them to his- torians, political scientists, economists, and general philosophers. On the other hand, the beginning of the Christian Era seems to divide history as a Rubicon between two utterly different methods of thought and research. Even when the more cosmopolitan genius of Germany has been turned upon the earlier period, it has been chiefly expended in the elucidation of ancient manuscripts and the clearing up of knotty points in paleography or grammar. The interest evoked by great discoveries has only encouraged the cult of classic atmosphere, with- out encouraging a study of underlying principles 22 IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 23 and broad movements. The atmosphere, in fact, is that of the scholiasts and of the monastics. The philosophy of history is little known in it. But light begins to break upon the old dark mass, thanks to the efforts of Schrader, Sergi and others who have brought modern science to bear upon the problems of antiquity. When we learn that the Greeks and the Romans could but have been a small dominant community im- posing their civilisation upon alien masses; when we discover that a wide civilisation overspread the Mediterranean before the coming of the con- querors, that it extended through France to our own islands, that it made its way, possibly from the Sahara, by various channels, and that it re- mains to a large extent in Egypt to this day, how much broader is our outlook upon the history of Greece and Rome, how much greater is our interest in those old Pelasgians, Ligurians, and Illyrians, who are all lumped together as Bar- barians by classic writers. There were two events which seem to stand out particularly in the history of Greece and Rome, inviting an application of the latent impulse theory, the two named in the title of this chapter, although many others may suggest themselves to the reader. The Trojan War is too much shrouded by age and mystery to be of interest from this point of view, and most of the earlier wars, both Greek and Roman bear their meaning 24 LATENT IMPULSE on the surface, namely, the instinct of expansion, of nationality, of greed. It is the old story of the stronger devouring the weaker, one of the oldest and most necessary principles of life ; similarly when a people becomes rich, luxurious and careless, a race of hard living shepherds or hunters sweeps down upon them, and sets up a new state which shall in time succeed to the fortunes of the older one. The motives of such events require no elucidation. But the two cases I have mentioned are more mysterious, and one of them amply repays investigation, although the other finds a much simpler explanation. It may seem a little strange, at first sight, that the Carthaginians, a people who lived by trade, and cared so little about fighting that they hired mercenaries to do it for them, already wearied by an exhaustive trade war with the Grecian states, should seize an opportunity to inaugurate an immense territorial war with the rising power in Italy, and, on the other hand that an un- imaginative, home-keeping, professedly law- abiding people like the Romans should suddenly give their aid to a community of outlaws and robbers and thus involve themselves in a struggle outside the mainland. Whether the Romans, flushed with their victories nearer home, sus- pected that their aid to Rhegium, and, in con- sequence, to Messana would involve them in such far reaching consequences, it is difficult to decide, but it seems clear that for the moment they were IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 25 actuated by the ideas of a forward policy. It seems easier to view the situation from the Carthaginian standpoint. The Carthaginians were a commercial nation, and their geographical position marked them out for the pursuit of their career both in the East and the West of the Mediterranean, and in the seas beyond the Pillars of Hercules. But the key to this position was obviously Sicily, placed over against them either as a ready market, halting place, and haven of rest, or, on the other hand, as a guard to threaten their city, to over-awe their navies and to cut their sphere into two halves, and two very important halves, the area of rough pro- ducts and raw material, and that of finished articles and wealthy consumers. The long and weary wars with the Greeks had ended in com- promise merely, and the main power of Greece was too far away to threaten the very existence of Carthage. But when the Romans began to con- solidate their power, especially in the country whence Carthage had long been used to draw the flower of her mercenaries, it was a time for un- easiness. When they crossed the strait and threatened the very key of the Mediterranean position, it was a time for action, and the prompt seizure of Messana by Carthage was the result. The Second Wa/ was but a development of the first. The brain of Hamilcar conceived, and the arm of Hannibal carried out, the scheme of crushing the interloping state in the jaws of a 26 LATENT IMPULSE nut-cracker, taking her from the side of Sicily and by the Riviera at once. The third phase is that of the proud imperious conqueror crushing out the last remnants of her victim's life, summed up in the words " Delenda est Carthago." The whole case is therefore quite simple, the only outstanding feature being the realisation by Carthage that the unification of the Italian Peninsula and the combination of Sicily with this meant her ruin. In the absence of any history written from the Carthaginian point of view, the incident between Hamilcar and the boy Hannibal stands out almost alone. Whether or not the old man made the boy swear eternal hatred to the Romans, the incident at any rate symbolises the Carthaginian attitude in the matter, and in this tale of personal animus is veiled the secret impulse of the whole people, their only condition of existence was the annihilation of Rome. An examination into the causes of the Pelo- ponnesian War proved to be more interesting. Much of the ground has already been covered by Mr. F. M. Cornforth's " Thucydides Mythis- toricus." The problem of the war is there solved, and to those who would pursue the sub- ject further I recommend a study of this inter- esting book at first hand ; but I will nevertheless give here the headings of the arguments and my own comments. Thucydides is the more interesting in this IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 27 connection as he forms a crucial instance of one of the propositions of this book, namely, that the real cause of events can only be safely judged long after the event has taken place. As a historian he had many advantages. He was an eye-witness of many of the scenes which he de- scribes, and a personal friend of many of the actors. He was a man of great culture and education, not marred by narrowness of view, and without overpowering prejudices, although he inclines naturally towards the Aristocratic party. His philosophic breadth is shown in the theories which he lays down with regard to history, yet his practice is at times strongly at variance with them. In the light of after ex- perience we often find that the things which are really great and essential he calls small, and the small and casual, the pretexts and subterfuges he calls great. One of the small pretexts according to him, was the decrees against Megara. These, however, were the very essentials of the struggle. The deep causes he gives as several, but none of them can be maintained in that category. That the struggle was one of democrats against oligarchs can be shown to be inconsistent with the rest of Athenian policy. That it was a con- flict between lonians and Dorians is open to a similar objection. Finally, the argument that the policy was due to Pericles personally can be met in several ways: Pericles' tastes lay another way, the manner in which the campaign 28 LATENT IMPULSE was conducted shows clearly enough that he was not the moving spirit; finally we may adduce the greatest objection of all, that broad popular movements of this kind are not those of a man, but of a people. The fact is that the war between Athens and Sparta was a people's policy, and the people who urged it were the Athenians. The Spartans were too home-loving, too unimaginative, too self- sufficient both in character and economically, too unstable in their equilibrium to initiate a struggle of such a far-reaching kind. The initia- tive was that of the Athenians, and the war was due to a change in the constitution of their society. Since the building of the long walls, and the growth of the Peiraeus, a large merchant population had grown up in the city, a popula- tion with views naturally resembling those of Carthage at the time of the First Punic war ; and, curiously enough, we shall see that the secret objective of both peoples was the same. This merchant population was a new thing, despicable in the eyes of the Aristocratic party and the country landholders, as we see from the tone of Thucydides in dealing with Cleon and Cleophon, or the caricatures of Aristophanes. But we might as well go to Hudibras for the truth about the Puritans, or to the modern Music Halls for a sound opinion on Liberal Policy. What made these upstarts more hated was their power. Instead of employing slaves as did the IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 29 landed aristocracy, they necessarily commanded to a large extent the votes of a great wage earn- ing community. It is by the study of the instincts of these people, so difficult to ascertain in the garbled speeches of an unsympathetic his- tory, that we shall arrive at the true inwardness of the war. One of the most salient features of the struggle is the hatred of Athens for the seceded Megara. All her pent-up venom seemed to be hurled upon the unfortunate city. Such hatred in such a time of stress must have had a deep inner cause, for hatred and cruelty are necessary expressions of deep-seated primal emotions of humanity. These are what appear to us when all veneer, civilisation, intelligence and education have been rubbed off or forgotten, and such impulses should lay before us better than anything the latent intent, the emotional causes of action. Megara, situated on the Isthmus of Corinth, was the key to the Athenian position, as the Athenian objective was Sicily. Thucydides may omit all mention of the founding of the colony of Thurii, and may gloze over the alliance with Leontini ; he may give no point to the Corcyrean argument that Corcyra was conveniently situated for expeditions to Italy and Sicily ; but these facts were deep down in the minds of the Athenian trading population. They knew that it was only by the possession of Megara that the well-known dangers of the passage by Cape Malea could be 30 LATENT IMPULSE avoided, or the correspondingly heavy tolls levied by those who held the Isthmus of Corinth. The Megarid was the gate of the Western Seas. Thucydides does not appear to have grasped the connection between the Sicilian policy and the attacks on Megara. The Sicilian expedition he considered an irrelevant interlude, and could only ascribe the policy which actuated it to motives of personal ambition or private gain, so far was he from looking for causes in the primal instincts of a people. Of Pericles* part it is difficult to judge. As an art patron of the Golden Age he could have little sympathy with a devastating war, and his speeches corroborate this estimate. But he was determined to hold the powers which his talents had given him, and his measures, most of them of a half-hearted description, can only be ac- counted for by the fact that he knew that he could only lead by following. Like Queen Elizabeth of England, he had ideas of his own, but he knew when to yield ; and those cries of the market-place, so darkly hinted at by our historian, must have had their meaning for the astute politician. So much for Thucydides. But let us not attach too light a value to him on account of this failing. Let us rather say that if Thucydides could not judge the causes of contemporary events, how dangerous is it for any man to attempt to do so! IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 31 It is curious to note that Diodorus, writing at a later date, lays emphasis on the fact that the demos of Athens courted the alliance with Corcyra, because the latter was conveniently situated for Sicily. CHAPTER IV. THE AMERICAN WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. As has been stated before, the struggle for American Independence was one of the chief in- stances adduced by Dr. Reich to illustrate the working of latent impulse. No one who has read English History in a liberal spirit, and studied the works of modern historians, or who has gone to the fountain-head in Burke's speeches and the utterances of other politicians of the day, can without difficulty bring himself to believe that the motives which actuated the Americans were other than the highest and noblest which can inspire a social community. " No taxation without representation " has developed from a party cry to be one of tHe principles of our con- stitution. We look back to the days when our fathers and grandfathers struggled for the pass- ing of the Reform Bill, through the era of " Wilkes and Liberty," to the staunch John Hampden who dared to refuse his king the money which Parliament had not granted. It was on this vantage ground we had always learnt that the Americans stood in those dark days that heralded the dawn. The facts seem so clear, IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 33 After an expensive war waged in all quarters of the globe, it is suggested that the colonists who have shared in the advantage of the British Army should contribute towards its expense. Although the Americans are loyal and not averse to doing their share of fighting, they demur to paying for the upkeep of a standing army of foreign troops, while they are debarred from having any say in the matter either of the grant or the ex- penditure. But the King is obdurate and the Ministers are short-sighted. A Stamp Act is passed, levying the hated taxes. The Americans are furious, and the act is in practice reduced to a dead letter. A wiser minister repeals the act, and the bells are rung in America. Another swing of the pendulum at home, and the Declara- tory Act is passed, demonstrating that the king has the right to do these things by Royal Prero- gative, even though he refrains from putting them into practice. This was murdering without robbing, a crime which brought no gain to its perpetrator. Then come the Tea duties and other taxes, opening up the old sore inflicted by the Stamp Act, while the narrow and fettering trade laws make the existence of the new community intolerable. That these were the causes of the war we always learnt; these were the measures Burke thundered against; the principles of the Ameri- cans were his principles. Why take away from this people the glory of having fought and won c 34 LATENT IMPULSE on the high grounds of constitutionalism ? Because a people seldom, if ever, fights for a principle, constitutional or otherwise. Let philosophers do this in their Battles of the Books! The Battles of blood are fought by men's hearts, not by their understandings. Men will fight on the wildest pretexts ; they may de- ceive themselves into thinking their cause has some motive of superfine and ethereal texture, whereas, in fact, it is based upon some hidden want in their natural being just as that great need which is planted in the breast of every healthy human being to propagate his kind causes him to weave the most fantastic garland of love, adoration, poetry, devotion, idealism around his mistress. Is science killing all phantasy with these hard notions ? No ; science cherishes the phantasy as dearly as its cause, and comes, moreover, a step nearer the truth. No one has so well described the Americans of this period as the novelist, Mr. Winston Church- ill, no one seems to have so saturated himself with the prevailing spirit of the age. Few authors have seized on the meaning of latent impulse better than he. What were the mov- ing principles in the American colonists, as re- vealed in " The Crossing ?" Abstract principles as to taxation and representation? No, we are shown pictures of Cumberland Gap, of bloody conflicts with the Redskins as the settlers push on to the dark and bloody ground, gorges with IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 3 5 leafy woods, wide prairies beyond covered with buffalo, and waiting but to be tilled, new land where men may start again, where they can get away from Conservatism and con- ventions, where they will be free from the law's entangling mesh, where they can shoot their man instead of suing him ; and then that majestic river sweeping down to the Gulf of Mexico, large and generous, ready to bear the wealth of the land to the ports and the open seas. Bancroft's description of the matter is like an epic poem, showing the final triumph of free- dom and justice both in the whole American populace and her individual citizens. Every American is pure, upright, a man of perfect in- tegrity, and usually, by the way, a fairly keen man of business. According to him the issue was fought out on the general principles above referred to. But between the lines we read some- thing which tallies more with Mr. Churchill's view of the subject. By a proclamation of 1763, the date of the Peace of Paris, the boundary of the American colony was fixed at the Alleghanies. A little further on we gather that Franklin and others formed a small syndicate to exploit the new lands of the West. As the plot thickens, Choisul, the far-seeing French Statesman, makes a significant utterance. He says that if France still possessed Louisiana (which had just been made over to 36 LATENT IMPULSE Spain), her wisest policy would be to throw it open to the Americans, and take away all the restrictions which the English placed upon them with regard to it. Much annoyance is caused by the annexation by England of some of the Hinterland to New York State, at the expense of the more democratic Massachusetts. Finally, in 1774, a series of Penal Acts are passed, one of them definitely annexing the country West of the Alleghanies to the colony of Quebec. Here- in appear to lie the causes of the war. We have before us a people of the hardiest stock, who had fled from tyranny to found a country of their own far from the rule of kings and priests. After untold toil and suffering in their combat with the hardness of Nature, and the treachery of the Redskins, they were now well on towards prosperity and happiness. By the help of the old country they had proved that the Anglo- Saxon was to be the dominating race in the Continent, and the dangers of a Hinterland in the possession of a hostile civilised nation was averted. But now that the struggle was over, by a stroke of the pen, all their hopes of a national existence were blighted. Their pioneers had already pressed through those mountains and brought home glowing stories of the rich lands beyond. Speculative minds were already pre- paring to invest wealth thither, a bright and happy future for their race, with boundless terri- tory for the needs of their offspring, seemed IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 37 offered to them ; all to be snatched away in a moment. The enthusiasm for the new land whose dangers made it all the more worth fight- ing for have been graphically described by Mr. Churchill; no less than the undying hatred for the king who plotted with their enemies, sold their rights, and tried to restrain them from the new territory. In short, the needs of the new nation were no less than America from sea to sea. She might couch her demands in the subtlest language of the lawyers, or the most high flown rhetoric of the patriot ; her grievances, she might assert, lay in the breach of this constitution, or that popular right. Her real grievance, whether she knew it or not, lay in the check placed upon that primeval instinct, possession. Not that the Americans purposely gave high moral and political reasons in justification of an act that had for its basis mere greed. Far be it from me as an Englishman to impute this, for our nation is as ready as any to find a noble pretext for its most questionable actions a point which I hope to deal with later. No, the Americans in setting forth those reasons most probably believed them, just as we believe the arguments we put forward to justify our own actions. I merely say this : that these actions are psychological, they are emotions, impulses, in which the reason has no share. Nay, they even go so far as to deceive and blind the reason, as they blind the forward lover, leaving him to a 38 LATENT IMPULSE late repentance. But I hope to deal with the psychological side of the question at greater length at a later stage, when I have adduced more examples of the working of these phenomena. Let me, however, bring to bear the air-import- ant question to this case. Instead of the old cui bono, " Who advantaged ?" I will ask " quid bonum," "What was the gain?" Was the result of the War of Independence an affirmation of the rights of man, an establishment of the principle *' No taxes without representation," an era of lofty statesmanship and high, political principles? Or was it the establishment of America from sea to sea ? CHAPTER V. THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR. THE study of the American War of Independ- dence should lead us to severely discount lofty and idealistic motives when they are ad- vanced as causes of great disturbances of this kind. I do not wish to go so far as to say that such motives do not sometimes find their way into action, but it will be usually found that individuals or small bodies of men are respon- sible for such phenomena. In fact, the more general and popular a movement is, the simpler and more primitive is the impulse likely to be which forms the common ground for the com- bined action. Thus there are many individual saints and martyrs, but sacrifices on the part of a whole nation are rare. A Byron might give his life for Greek Independence, but one cannot fail to have been struck with the supineness of Christian States in late years with regard to persecution in the Near East, when there was nothing to be gained by interference. We are not surprised, then, that the two great American Wars should have had deep material motives underlying the high moral and political 39 40 LATENT IMPULSE issues which have been put forward as their causes. But it is curious to find that the real question in both cases was the same the Hinter- land. As in the earlier war it was a question of whether the land beyond the Alleghanies should be at the absolute disposal of the English King, so in the later the issue was whether the North or the South should have possession of that Hinterland. To say that the Slavery Question had nothing to do with the struggle would be false, but how little the whole matter regarded the slave himself is shown by several circum- stances. The slaves seem to have been, on the whole, happy under their old masters, and did not for a long time benefit by the change ; when they got their freedom, many of them took it with reluctance, or tried not to take it. So far were they from any rebellion against the system that when John Brown made his hare-brained attempt, not a slave joined him. Lastly, the modern Northerner is no friend of the Negro, and is as jealous of any advance in his social and political position, as any other white man who is brought into close touch with coloured races. In fact, the war was waged on the Slavery Question; not in its humanitarian, but in its economic phase. To quote Professor Cairnes : " Perhaps the most striking example which the world has ever seen of a foreign trade by the peculiar personal qualities of those engaged in IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 41 ministering to it is that which was furnished by the Southern States of the American Union previous to the abolition of Slavery. The effect of that institution was to give a very distinct industrial character to the labouring population of those states, which unfitted them for all but a very limited number of occupations, but gave them a certain special fitness for them. Almost the entire industry of the country was conse- quently turned to the production of two or three commodities, in raising which the industry of slaves was found to be effective ; and these were used, through an exchange with foreign coun- tries as the means of supplying the inhabitants with all their requisites." From the earliest days of colonisation, the North had borne the brunt of the labour. Nature was rugged, and when a bare subsistence was wrested from her, there was still the treacherous native to encounter. Hardy pioneers risked their lives in the back-woods for skins and other treasure, but returned with palpitating hearts lest they should find -their homesteads burnt down and all that they loved in this world murdered by a ruthless foe. There a man was a man, and could be no less. There was no room for a weakling or anyone who could not take a man's share in a fight. But in the South it was different, and the more genial climate and greater security fostered that system under which the Southern aristocracy grew up, luxurious and arbitrary, living on the 42 LATENT IMPULSE labours of an imported and subject race. The War of Independence combined the two races in its common issue, but it was no sooner over than those causes which led to the ultimate struggle began to manifest themselves. An ordinance of 1787 prohibited slavery in the new territory north of the Ohio, but, soon after, the purchase of the immense stretch of country under the name of Louisiana caused some uneasiness from the point of view of the slave question. It was at first admitted as a slave state, but when, in 1812, Missouri asked to come into the Union, a compromise had to be made, and the arrange- ment took its name from the last state. Under the Missouri Compromise, the state was to be a slave state, but the remainder of the Lousiana purchase north of the southern boundary of Missouri was to be for ever free. Accordingly, in 1850, when California, in the flush of her wealth and prosperity, was admitted, it was as a free state. This was a great blow to the South, and was by no means the first intimation she had received of the dangers threatening her interests. The North had already attempted to pass a tariff law, which, while protecting Northern indus- tries, would cause the South to pay more for all the numerous goods she had to import : this was met with little short of a revolution. This ques- tion, however, by means of decisive action on the one hand, and some concession on the other, fell into abeyance, but the danger must none the IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 43 less have been felt. The issue was now prac- tically the one which England had to face at the time of the abolition of the Corn Laws. Was she to retain her corn duties for the benefit of the agricultural interest, or abolish protection for the benefit of her increasing industrial population ? In short, was she to be industrial or agricultural ? In America the question was : Should the South be allowed to flood that vast Hinterland with her slave labour and thus gain for ever an economic advantage over the North by agricultural pur- suits, or should the North prevail by her industry and manufactures and white labour ? Each had a weapon whereby it could make itself feared, the one section its slaves, the other its growing wealth and the power to impose tariffs, and it is difficult to see which had the most to dread. At all events the South took the initiative, so we must suspect that she felt in the more dangerous posi- tion. In 1854 the Missouri Compromise was broken, and slavery admitted to the new states of Nebraska and Kansas, and further events marked the way of the wind. The Judiciary, at the instance of the party in power, gave away the Northern position by the famous Dred Scott decision, which denied to a slave or his descen- dant the status of citizenship. From these events to the first active operations at Charles- town is but a step. The victory of the North meant the prevalence of the hardy race which traced its descent from 44 LATENT IMPULSE the Puritan stock, finding in the Mayflower days a refuge from tyranny of Church and State in a land where no difficulties were too great to be overcome by a strong arm and steadfast heart. For that the United States has to be thankful, and to it she owes the self-reliance, courage, elasticity, and resourcefulness of her citizens. It might have been very different if the South had won her case either wholly or in part, and either implanted her system in the whole of the South and West, or crippled the North by seceding and taking from the Union the fair territories luxur- iating in the genial sub-tropical warmth. But whatever advantages the country may have gained as regards the stamina and physique of her manhood, the economic result is more doubt- ful, and this quite apart from any considerations of that abnormal and fictitious advantage which the slave system conferred. The South felt herself at the mercy of the North on account of the two weapons which the latter could bring to bear her growing wealth, and her tariffs; and she struck her blow to obviate her impending fate. But the more artificial weapon of the Northerners to a certain extent recoiled upon the heads of its wielders. I say this quite apart from the Free Trade controversy, and on excellent authority, that of the eminent American economist, Professor Walker, to whose pages I refer those who wish to pursue the subject at greater length. The protection IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 45 of infant industries has found favour with some of the most orthodox economists, and America may have felt that if she were doing wrong, she did so with excellent authority. And her early politicians, seeing the vast resources of their land, may have well imagined that their country, could she only learn to manufacture her raw material, might some day reach that state of self- sufficiency, the boast of Pericles of old, which forms an overwhelming advantage in time of war. If there could have been an idea of this kind, it is well in keeping with the rest of the history of the United States witness the first colonisation as a refuge from European tyranny, the rebellion against England and the Munroe doctrine. But the growth of foreign trade of late years has shown such an idea to be absurd, and any country which seriously adopted it would gradually sink from her standard of living, through having to do without certain luxuries, lose her efficiency in production, by dint of the absence of competition, and finally shut herself up in priggish isolation, like ancient Sparta, laying herself open to all the dangers which threatened that state. Take the case of cotton alone ; there is in the climate of Lancashire just that combination of moisture and warmth which is necessary for the proper working up of the fibre, and the consequence is that if any country denies itself the advantage of making use of the Lancashire mills, she does it at her own cost. 46 LATENT IMPULSE But whatever be the reasons which actuated the first framers of the tariffs, these have become a permanent institution, and in the manner of tariffs they have grown with the years, as a monument to the whole world of the great prin- ciple that if you want a weak thing to grow strong, it is of no use to protect it. The protec- tion becomes a necessary part of its being, and the more it grows the greater protection it will require. If you want it to become strong and hardy, give it the chance to buffet with the winds and the weather. If there is any good in it, it will learn to stand alone. If it falls, you have at least the satisfaction of knowing that an unsuitable thing is out of the way, and has left room for something which can stand by itself. The principles of Foreign Trade are based on the fact that every country has some compara- tive advantage in production. Let trade take its free course, and it will find its own level ; the commodity in which the advantage lies will find itself automatically. Protect here and there, and you will never find where your advantage lies. So it has been with America, whose advantage lay in that rich virgin soil of the West, which coulcl have made her the granary of the world. Labour expended upon this field is worth many times the same amount spent in factories, for the latter do not require any particular natural advantages, save means of communication, fuel, and a population, all of which are found to per- IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 47 faction in the crowded districts of the United Kingdom, Germany, and Belgium. But as wages in America are necesarily ruled by those which can be earned in the area of greatest efficiency, namely, the wheat fields, it comes about that the wages paid in the factories are far higher than those which prevail in the countries mentioned, and the tariff makes it worth while for these to be paid, with the obvious re- sult of the waste of the difference between wages in America and in Belgium, diminished by the trifling expense of transport. Meanwhile the cornlands lie largely undeveloped and the work- man finds his high wage of no avail owing to the high price of commodities. And thus does the North rob the South, and herself as well; all are robbed but the few individuals, the million- aires in whose favour the whole scheme works under the very eyes of the dupes. Again let me put in a word to prevent the high ideals which actuated many in this question from being lightly thought on. No one can doubt that the motives of President Lincoln and of many of the abolitionists were pure as the day, and instigated by the highest principles of Christ- ianity and altruism. But such are useless unless engrafted upon a stock of the baser sort, whose baseness is an indication of its virility. Such ideals are like those fine fruits which cannot be propagated from seed, but are dependent for their existence upon the wild and vigorous tree. 48 LATENT IMPULSE Lincoln's ideals fell in with the spirit actuating the North, and so he led the North on to vic- tory. Had they run counter to the trend of feel- ing, they would have been abortive, and their possessor might have suffered an earlier martyr- dom through their possession alone. Lincoln's position recalls that of a very different type of ruler, Henry VIII of England, whose evil and not his good motives happened to fit in with the impulses of his people, and who therefore be- queathed to his descendants honour and pros- perity, which were as suddenly changed into hate and disaster, when later rulers of the same im- perious spirit followed in his footsteps, after the trend of the nation's feelings had changed. And thus we see how little the individual makes history. History is the current on which he swims ; he is but a bubble borne upon the surface, to be borne triumphantly forward or engulfed in the abyss. CHAPTER VI. PHASES OF NATIONAL FEELING. HISTORY has been written so largely from the individual point of view that there is always a tendency to ascribe great events to the genius or personal qualities, good or bad, of a particular person. We have seen, on the other hand, that far from being the causative element in national movements, the individual is seized upon by the imperious Zeitgeist and made to do its will. Thus George III and Washington and Lincoln were puppets in the hands of this great wire- puller. The case of Henry VIII has also been referred to, and we will pursue it in greater detail here. Under the Tudors the English dynasty became thoroughly consolidated. The throne, now for the first time loosed from the fetters of those jealous guardians, the barons and aris- tocracy, practically all destroyed in the Civil wars, stood out alone and majestic above the meanness of the commonalty and the new nobility which owed its whole existence to the supreme power. It is no wonder that under the moderate and astute rule of Henry VII no mur- murings against the growing absolutism should D 49 50 LATENT IMPULSE arise ; but what can we say of his son, who start- ing like a young Apollo, gradually gave way to every evil passion, disappointed all hopes, and broke the laws of God and man ? Yet, in face of all his vagaries, his deeds of tyranny actuated by whim or passion, there was no note of dis- loyalty uttered against him, while towards his daughter, Elizabeth, perhaps, more whimsical still, loyalty became a passion and a cult. On the other hand, this tyrannical conduct in the Stuarts was combated from the very outset, inso- much as it has been said that if James I had lived long enough he would have lost his head instead of his less fortunate son meeting with that fate. Yet James I's tyranny cannot be compared with Henry VIII's, and at least this much could be said for the Stuart policy, that it was usually consistent. The reason can only be ascribed to luck ; the Stuarts were ill-starred. Like the poet Gray, they were born out of due time, and their end was mortification and dis- appointment. Well might they have said with Laertes " I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze But that this folly doubts it." Henry VI IPs luck, however, was in. Not only did the English people of his day happen to want a despot, but his policy, dependent solely on a personal whim, happened to fit in with that of the nation. With the discovery of America the world's centre of gravity had changed, and IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 51 now from the position of ultima Thule, England bade fair to be the very heart and centre of the world, the more so as her insular position and large seaboard had marked her out as a centre of navigation. The position was therefore critical, and at such times national feeling often shows a fitting and unexpected modesty. In this case England, as Professor Prothero has shown, threw the reins upon the neck of the horse. It is astonishing with what simplicity and good faith this is sometimes done, and therein mankind taken collectively shows itself to be often superior in intuition to the individual. But in times of danger or of critical importance the need of unity is felt to outweigh any other considerations. What is wanted is one leader and one policy, be it good or bad, so long as it leads somewhere in the right direction. One indifferent policy, consistently pursued, is worth several excellent ones making in contrary direc- tions, or displacing one another as this or that counsellor holds the place of pre-eminence. And as it was necessary for England to be ruled by a despot, so was it also necessary that the despot should free her from all ties, bonds, alliances and restrictions which might fetter her free action in the new sphere, or make her a catspaw to pull the chestnuts from the fire for the benefit of one of the older powers. Henry was tired of his wife, and to divorce her he must needs break with Rome and with the Emperor 52 LATENT IMPULSE and Spain and all the Catholic powers. What- ever may have been the religious feelings of the nation, they recognised that the real question at issue was not a religious but a political one, and they tolerated the king's actions accordingly. The position of Elizabeth was more difficult. In the first place she was a woman, and there- fore less suited to lead a nation's destinies in troublous times. Again, she would probably marry, in fact she ought to, and if she took this step injudiciously she might spoil all the pro- gress that had so far been made. But if she was lacking in determination and consistency, she made up for it in tact, and a sympathetic regard for the feelings of her subjects. In spite of her petty tyrannies no one knew better how to yield gracefully when it was manifest that her actions were unpopular. In keeping free from a Spanish alliance, and by helping, although in her meagre and parsimonious manner, the Protestant causes in Europe, she yet kept the stem of the vessel in the straight track, for which she earned the everlasting gratitude of her people. This voluntary resignation of a powerful and freedom-loving people to the will of an absolute monarch is still better exemplified by France under Napoleon. The psychological side of the motives in such cases I propose to deal with at greater length at a later stage, and here they are more complicated than those we have dealt IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 53 with in the earlier part of the chapter. There is the Revolution itself to be considered, then the rise of Napoleon, and finally the great campaigns. The attitude of the people in the two latter stages have been ascribed by a French historian to the ruling passion of the Frenchman, Vhonneur. In the light of psychology this seems highly probable, and the love of honour like patriotism and esprit de corps, we may take to be manifestations of the national feeling pure and simple. All the destinies of France seemed to be wrapped up in the personality of " the little corporal," and the enthusiasm which he kindled in song and poetry, not only in France but throughout Europe, is the clearest indication of the hold which he possessed over the minds of the people. And with a high-spirited and chivalric people it is not difficult to comprehend that the sentiment was maintained even after its national utility was lost, and that the people gave their sons to the armies of their great leader long after his schemes had any national value. The psychological counterpart of this phenomenon is to be sought in the pathological form of an emotion, and there are few emotions without such forms. But the strangest part of the relations between Napoleon and the French is their first adoption of him as their leader, almost their tyrant, just at the close of a furious outbreak against absolutism. If, however, the state of France 54 LATENT IMPULSE under Napoleon is compared with that of Eng- land under Henry VIII, the explanation seems clear. The cruelties which were perpetrated upon the Royal House and the nobility were, in the main, due to the plots made by them for bringing foreign armies into France. The dis- covery of these made the people mad with rage, and in the blindness of their fury they were indiscriminating in their revenge. Probably if it had not been for the imminence of foreign in- vasion, the campaign which followed the Revolu- tion would not have been entered upon. But it is clear that the position of France was critical, and that her very existence was threatened. The need of absolutism followed as a matter of course. So much for the National Feeling in its active and positive form. But it is often met with as an undercurrent of obstinacy, hostility and re- bellion, when rulers or governments run counter to the intent of the people. For an example of this we need not go far from our own shores. It is a platitude in the circles of shallow thinkers that Ireland has all that can be reasonably given her, if any account be taken of proportion of population and like considerations, and that in spite of that, " sops " are being constantly ad- ministered by her more powerful sister in order to quiet the discontent which nevertheless in- creases. She is fairly, more than fairly, repre- sented in our Parliament, possesses religious freedom, has a special administration, and he r IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 55 own judiciary. Laws have been constantly passed to better the condition of the peasant, and to enable him to become a proprietor. The old landlords are being bought out, and every facility and encouragement is given to trade and industry. What more can a people want? It is sufficient to reply that if a people wants one thing, it is of no use to lavish profusely another thing upon it. By doing so, you only add fuel to the flames and weapons to the armoury. The Irish are a proud and imagina- tive people, and they suffer under the galling mis- fortune of never having had a chance. Com- pare their union with England with that between England and Scotland. The two latter coun- tries had persisted side by side for years; two separate communities, with separate institutions, under a single king. The fact that the reigning house had long been Scotch gave the Northern country a prestige in the days when she might have suffered in point of wealth and power. In the back centuries England had struggled for the mastery and lost. Ever since Scotland had been a thorn in her side, and an enemy in the rear of any king who wished to embark on enterprises abroad without conciliating his neighbours. In 1707 she came, a single united people, used to a single ruler and constitutional government, of her own free will, into partnership with the sister country, but retaining her law, her church, everything she wished to keep. The union has 56 LATENT IMPULSE proved since that day a blessing to both coun- tries. The growing wealth, the colonial possessions, the wider field of the Southern country gave the new partner a sphere in which to display her talents of thrift, hard-headedness, and practical common-sense. Whereas England was not only stimulated by the example of the northern sons, but soon became deeply in their debt for services in every branch of administra- tion and industry. She had a Scotchman to thank for the Bank of England, and Scotch downrightness and plodding hard work has been an excellent antidote to the Englishman's love of sport and over-shyness of healthy manual labour. If to-day we playfully grumble that we are governed by Scotchmen, that they rule our Colonies, manage our Banks, our Insurance Companies, and most of our industries, we have nevertheless the consolation, in addition to know- ing that all these things are in the best possible hands, of feeling that all is for the good of both countries, and the same kingdom and nation. But with Ireland it was sadly different. If Nature had only placed her on the Eastern side of England, there is a possibility that William the Conqueror would have set himself to use his iron fist upon her first, and weld her into a single nation. That would have been her salva- tion, as it has been ours. But, owing to that lack of unity, she was always a trouble to her- self, and consequently to her neighbours. Eng- IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 57 lish influence, in the Middle Ages, could go no further than to set up a colony within the pale, outside which there was nothing but lawlessness and disorder. When this state of things came to an end, a foreign and hated element was super- posed in the North, adding bitterness and strife to former disorders. Ireland's internal weakness and lack of cohesion made her, in commerce, a spoil in the hands of the English who, in the Eighteenth Century, crushed out one industry after another ; in politics, a slave to one or two wealthy and unscrupulous landlords, carrying the whole representation in their pockets. After hopes had been given, and were suddenly snatched out of reach, an opportunist coup was made to put an end temporarily to the reign of tumult, corruption and rebellion ; and the worth- less Parliament was abolished and its functions taken over by our own. But this coup was not looked upon by its perpetrators as anything but an ephemeral relief from the tension, a tem- porary harbour in the storm. Pitt was too busy with foreign complications to set himself to deal with the refractory people in his rear. And the temporary arrangement has become permanent, and a proud people has had to submit to the taunt that when she had a Parliament and a Government of her own, it was corrupt and un- workable. But Ireland never had in any true sense a Parliament of her own. She was governed by a handful of place-holders. And that is why 58 LATENT IMPULSE the English people may lavish what wealth and advantages they like upon Ireland, Ireland will never be satisfied until her craving for sovereignty had been satisfied. And by this I do not mean that separation is necessary far from it. It is the wounded self-feeling that rankles in the breasts of Irishmen. The land whose orators stir all hearers by their passion and imagination has not, and has never had, the opportunity of utilising them for her own better- ment. This land of politics and discussion has never had an assembly in which her leaders could freely speak their minds to the end of a con- structive policy. " Give us a chance of showing that we can govern ourselves a chance we have never had!" That, to my mind, is the founda- tion of the Irish position. Given but that, all the lawlessness, the disloyalty, the discontent, I verily believe, would have place with her no more, and the paid agitators could take up their bags and retire into obscurity. And a loyal and warm-hearted people would fittingly show how they appreciated the coveted gift of their bene- factress. To see how futile it is to attempt to palliate a wounded national feeling with gifts which do not meet the particular need, it is only necessary to turn to Hungary under Joseph II. This ruler is acknowledged even by Hungarian writers to have been one of the most beneficent and en- lightened of rulers. But his enlightenment was IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 59 his doom. An eager disciple of that great rational- istic movement whose best exponents were the Encyclopaedists of France, he strove to rule under its guidance, and to thrust out of his dominions all that mass of tradition and the consequent abuses handed down from the Middle Ages. Rationally speaking he conferred on Hungary untold bene- fits, in closing up many of the useless Monas- teries, ameliorating the condition of the serfs, and improving education. But his intellectualist enthusiasm, in bringing everything to the touch- stones of pure reason, underrated the emotional forces lying dormant in the breasts of the Hun- garians, and he unwittingly offended them by actions of trivial import, but which to them seemed an absolute outrage against their national feelings. He refused to be crowned with the sacred crown of Hungary, and he tried to abolish their language. To a philosopher trifles like these seem inconsiderable, but the popular mind, finding a refuge from abstraction in symbolism, regards such trifles as its most holy possessions. To try to crush out a people's language is one of the greatest mistakes a ruler can be guilty of. Encourage it and it will probably die. Pro- scribe it, and even though it be forgotten, every one will suddenly remember that he has or has had a language of his own. The Hungarians wanted above all things independence from Austria, and freedom from Germanising in- fluence, and although Joseph's reforms, if pro- 6o LATENT IMPULSE perly introduced, could have worked untold good, and were, in fact, eagerly clamoured for when feeling had abated, yet the German tinge about them all, and the obnoxious provisions which went along with them, neutralised their whole advantage, and Joseph learnt on his death- bed that reason is not the only quality required for the government of a people. CHAPTER VII. NATIONALITY AND LITERATURE. THE feeling for literature is one of the latest de- veloped in the individual, and we shall expect the case to be the same in the life of a nation. And as it is of late growth, so it is more ephemeral, and of less power than other senti- ments. In the decay of human life the feelings depart in the order of their acquisition, and con- sequently those of the higher order go first, so that the last phase of human decay is character- ised by the few simplest and most animal im- pulses. We have seen how these lower impulses have been at the root of many of the great move- ments of history, and we shall consequently not be surprised if the higher motives have to account for but few of them. And as intellectual enthu- siasm is rather the province of the individual and moreover, of the rarer individual, it is only natural to find that the seeds of wisdom often fall on barren soil. This explains, in part, why no great truth has wakened the masses to action, but it has been uttered before times out of number. Nothing is new under the sun in the way of wise saws and brilliant conceptions, but they only take root when the ground happens to 61 62 LATENT IMPULSE be prepared to receive them. The Lutherian Revolution was foreshadowed by Huss and Wycliffe, but the times were not ripe for it, just as the French Revolution was preceded by the Jacqueries. In fact, we come back to our old principle that history is written by the heart and not by the head, and if the head wants to play its part, it must wait until the heart has climbed to its level. But whereas it will be almost impossible to find cases in which great national movements have been caused by intellectual activity, yet it is quite a usual occurrence for a popular movement to have an intellectual counterpart, and this has been amply demonstrated by Taine, who writes, however, from the literary, and not the national standpoint. Nevertheless his remarks on this head have considerable bearing on our subject. Literary genius he holds to be no other than power at the highest pitch of its development, and he goes on to show that the great writers have appeared at culminating epochs of their nations' careers. The defeat of the Armada, the discovery of America, loyalty to the Queen were all factors which determined the existence of Shakespeare, and but for them he could not have been what he was. In the same way it required all the doubt, the mysticism, the novelty of the Nineteenth Century to bring forth a Goethe in Germany. And so, he sums up, the greater the poet is, the more national he must be. IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 63 There have been choice spirits who were withered by the chilling blast of an unfriendly world, and although such will always be honoured in the Temple of Literature, as leaders and protagonists they find no place. We must not forget that the position of the poet is due to the novel system of specialisation, thrust upon us by the exigencies of our complicated civilisa- tion. Our ancestors all joined in the dance and song and mystic representation which have since parted company and are now represented by three sister arts. And so, just as we employ a pro- fessional butcher, barber, priest, instead of per- forming the functions of each within the family circle, so we look to the professional Seer, or better, Feeler, to sum up our emotions, and give expression to them in fitting language. These, on the evidence of Goethe, one of the greatest of the tribe, are the chief functions of the poet. " Wodurch bewegt er alle Herzen ? Wodurch besiegt er jedes Element ? 1st es der Einklang nicht, der aus dem Busen dringt, Und in sein Herz die Welt zurucke schlingt ? " Not only our functions of feeling has he special- ised, but he has also become a professor in the art of play, so characteristic of animals, children and savages. Organised play with the last, ir- responsible play with the two first, is the school in which the limbs and the functions are trained for the battle of life, the muscles gain their 64 LATENT IMPULSE strength, the eye its keenness, the brain its in- telligence, and the mind its control. And as we find that the greater the intelligence and the elasticity of the animal, the greater its fondness for play, so in man we find the play attitude pre- vailing in all kinds of occupations and disporting itself under manifold disguises. In national poetry and literature a people finds its most congenial playground. Taine's saying that poetic genius is une puissance developpee, expresses a truth only from a literary point of view. As far as the critic is concerned, it is pretty near the truth that great poetic outbursts are contemporaneous with a culmination in the political development of a nation. Augustus has his Vergil, Elizabeth her Shakespeare, Napoleon his Hugo, Frederick II his Walther. Yet with a wider scope than literature before our eyes, we have to take into consideration the relation of letters to the active life of a people. Poetic genius may, in a way, be the mark of developed power, but it is not the principal criterion. Great political achievements are more important in this sense; but the two phenomena are not unrelated. Some philos- ophers have explained laughter as being due to the sudden relaxation of a former tension. Our perceptions led us to expect something great, and our feelings were keyed up accordingly, pro- bably for action, but the event turned out to be something extremely small the exiguus mus. IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 65 Our feeling, our readiness for action, works itself off in the act of laughter, as, conversely, a dog's emotion finds a vent in the act of wagging his tail. Whether this be a full and sufficient explanation of laughter or not, it may serve, I think, as an illustration of the possible relations subsisting between national activity and aesthetic expression. We could not expect a poet to enjoy sufficient Wo-^o-^to- at the time of the invasion of the Armada to pen King Lear. But when once the danger is past, and while the feeling of power which helped to keep the Armada at bay is still in full vigour, it is then that we may expect the desire for action to work itself off in the aesthetic channel. Such a view appears to be confirmed by the conditions of almost every literary out- burst, and is further in accordance with the views of poets themselves upon their art. They agree that there must be power imagination or passion they call it but there must also be control, the passion must be " recollected in hours of tran- quility." Poetic outburst may, therefore, be in a sense regarded as a backwash to political activity. The study of poetic genius shows us that there must be the right atmosphere also. The poet must be in tune with his age, and he must also neither play too loud or too soft for it. Musical comedy would not suit the Greeks fresh from the fields of Marathon, nor would the Orestean Trilogy find favour with our busy devotees of E 66 LATENT IMPULSE the market and the exchange, who bring tired minds for light diversion. It is fortunate for a people when specialisation has not deprived its individuals altogether of its aesthetic and intellectual functions. Blest are the days when every household has its bard and its musician ! And fortunately, even to-day we have instances of a thorough participation of the people in aesthetic pursuits which have become elsewhere under the ban of professionalism. The Welsh and the Germans are perhaps the best examples, the former evincing their musical and poetical interest in their homes, their village gatherings, and their eisteddfods; the latter by their great love a love which is demonstrated even in the lowliest cottages for their national composers, and above all their extraordinary ap- preciation of their greatest and most metaphysical poet. But a people is in a bad way indeed when it can no longer play, and when its members crowd in thousands to witness the performance of specialists and professionals. We cannot all expect to be poets, but we still exercise our minds and hearts in reading them ; but in merely watching sports, without any ulterior object of self-improvement, we not only waste our time and national energies but are actually ruining our characters. This form of amusement, exem- plified in its most advanced stage in the watch- ing of gladiatorial combats in the days of Rome's decadence, is none other than the pathological IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 67 form of the aesthetic sentiment, and not only works to the detriment of that sentiment, but also unfits a nation for play, which has been shown before to be the great school for the battle of life ; to say nothing of its deadening the feelings and sapping the energy. After what has been said of poetry, it will be only natural to expect its appearance at the close of eras of national importance. But there is an important exception. Literary exuberance is far more the property of the individual than of the mass, and of small classes of individuals than larger ones. For, as the aesthetic and intellectual sentiments are the latest developed, they are only found in their fullness among the few, and are only possessed collectively to any important degree at certain epochs. Germany, until her unification, was split up into hundreds of small states, incapable of marked political action on account of their weakness and isolation. During the Eighteenth Century the German States were especially subjected to the influence of their powerful neighbour across the Rhine, and their literature bears the impress of this influence. But, as in the small Grecian communities, constant friction with one's neighbours brought about a sharpening of the wits, and most states possessed their University, round which the brighter in- telligencies clustered, and the spirit of learning was fostered, as in the Italian Republics, by the Maecenatum caritas liberally bestowed by the 68 LATENT IMPULSE courts of the petty princes. Every student of German literature knows what Schiller owed to Jena, and Goethe to Weimar, and these examples are paralleled in the lives of almost every German author of the pre-Union days. And so German activity, " cribbed, cabined and confined," owing to disunion and the proximity of powerful neighbours, found an outlet in literary production, and a sphere of industry and a general meeting-ground in the world of spirit and intelligence which hovers above the actualities of life. Thus when a surfeit of French fashion supervened and slavish imitation became nauseous, the first steps towards unity and nationality and abolition of French influence were made in literature, and are associated for ever with the name of Lessing, the literary counterpart of the political figure, Frederick the Great. The sublety of the working of secret impulse is the more remarkable in this case as Lessing had no reason to be grateful in any \vay to this sovereign. He could not say, like Goethe of Karl August, that his prince had given him, " Neigung, Musze, Vertraun, Felder und Garten und Haus." On the contrary Schiller sings of the German Muse, " Von den grossten Deutschlands Sohne, Von dem grossen Friedrichs Throne, Ging sie schutzlos ungeehrt." Frederick knew perhaps as little as Lessing IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 69 that the latter was working for German unity and emancipation from French influences, and he preferred Voltaire to his own compatriot. Yet when Lessing in his critical essays tried to wean the people's feelings from Boileau and pseudo-Aristotelian dramatic theories, when he showed that the Germans would do better to follow Shakespeare than narrow themselves down to the false unities of French tradition, he was sowing the seeds of a harvest which Frederick reaped, and the apotheosis of the Prussian king is found in the pages of one of the most charming of German plays, and her first great one, Less- ing's " Minna von Barnhelm." In these periods of literary outburst, Blutezciten, as the Germans call them, all is power, creation, imagination. These represent the flood-tides. The ebbs correspond with the falling in political vitality. The most character- istic example of this parallelism is displayed in that very marked phase of literature, the Eight- eenth Century Period, governed by the canons of Boileau and Pope, when all that appeared to be necessary to poetic art was " to polish and refine," to say " what oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed," and when, if we are to put a simple interpretation upon some of the utterances of Cowper and his contemporaries, the whole business of mankind was to put their house in order for the approaching end of the world. What is more dead, more uninspiring than the 70 LATENT IMPULSE teaching of this school ? How heartily did Gray and Wordsworth and Coleridge on this side the sea, and Lessing, and the Romantics on the other rebel against it! How confined were the bounds within which the Tragic Muse was to exercise her art, the canons of dramatic art being based on the narrowest of narrow mis-representa- tions of the Grecian critic! And when the French, the leaders in literary taste at the time as at most others, broadened out into something more general, more broadly human and humani- tarian, it was still the literature of the salon, into which no child and no animal could enter. So Taine complains, and the grounds of his com- plaint are the deeper when we see what the ex- clusion of these creatures means to literature. It amounts to the abolition of the naive, the simple, above all, the playful, in which the soul of true aestheticism lies. Perhaps this phase in French literature summed up in the terms Ency- clopaedist and Salon, has not the significance for France that it would have, were not that country so peculiarly situated. Taine says her literature, like her religion and her other institutions, is super-posed, not deep-rooted in nationality like German poetry or English customs. But it must be remembered that France was at the time the leader of Europe, and her salons had corres- pondents in every civilised country. Voltaire, says Diderot wrote not only for the elite in France, but for the whole of Europe. But, one may IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 71 object, does this not merely show the supremacy of France in things literary over the rest of the European nations ? Has it any general or national bearing ? It has. No nation accepts literary or intellectual principles of any kind until it is ripe to receive them, and in a condition to adopt them as its own. France dominated the whole of Europe because all Europe was passing through this Eighteenth Century Phase. And this spirit, widened and warmed, en- lightened and humanised by its international bearing, its association with kings and princes, by the sympathetic influence of women of talent and culture, the exalted views of the philosophes, what was it ? Wherein lay its leading character- istics? Internationalism, sympathy, perfect- ibilite, lucidity of expression, the testing of all things by pure reason, an apotheosis of the in- tellect. Schemes of economic improvement were propounded by Turgot, the lurking vestiges of tradition and superstition were routed by the cynicism of Voltaire, the whole movement was summed up in all its bearings by Diderot. This was a great, a broad-minded movement. We try in vain to emulate its breadth at the present day. But in its breadth lay its weak- ness. When sympathy and cosmopolitanism are rife, it is a sign that nationality is sleeping. And it awoke rudely in every direction- in France, with Rousseau and the Revolution; in Germany, with Lessing and Frederick the Great, with 72 LATENT IMPULSE Wordsworth, and the tardy Reform Bill in Eng- land ; in Hungary, with the rise of the Magyars against Joseph II. Everywhere, and on every hand, doubt, custom, antiquity, prejudice, authority, tradition, cruelty, bloodthirstiness ; but above and below and embracing all, Nationality. In the Eighteenth Century Europe was sleep- ing after the Thirty Years' War and the great strifes and commotions of the Seventeenth. Great men had died out and the newer genera- tions were lying in silence, waiting for the rude birth which a new age should hasten. And so politics fell from the hands of Gustavus and Wallenstein and Richelieu into those of women rulers, and infant sons, and the destinies of nations were guided by tutors and regents, place- hunters and favourites. These were the days of Law and Alberoni and Pompadour and Cather- ine mistresses and opportunists. No great blow was struck save in the direction of petty robbery and common intrigue, and the highest aim of politicians was the balance of power, the status quo, rudely shaken indeed by the great awakening in France and the invasions of her national leader. To sum up, a nation's development is not necessarily guaged by the state of her literature, but, on the other hand, her literature may be one of the signs of her political position. Literary outbursts are often in the nature of an afterglow IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 73 from the flame of political crisis. In one case however, that of Germany, we have seen how the rule was reversed, and the political birth of Ger- many was, characteristically enough, prepared in the aesthetic and intellectual sphere, the only ground, in fact, where freedom for such a move- ment existed. And, curiously enough, the great consummation reached, German literature has again subsided, save for a few sporadic out- bursts, into the commonplace and everyday. CHAPTER VIII. POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY. DESCENDING from the nation to the aggregates and corporations which compose it, we have to deal with something akin to the national feeling, but less wide and more particular in its scope. The terms Popular or Collective Sovereignty are intended to sum up that attempt at self-real- isation on the part of a section of the people which is so noticeable in the individual, already treated of in respect of the nation as a whole. In fact, it is difficult to draw the line and say what phenomena should be treated under the head of nationality, and what under the present title. The case of the Irish people I have already dealt with, as it deserves, from the national standpoint. Where a section of a community is marked off by race, language, territory, its movements must necessarily partake of the nature of national phenomena, however political considerations may disguise the outward seeming of the case. But in the area of Civil Wars, where in spite of pre-historic national distinctions the disturb- ances are entirely internal to the circumference of the homogeneous state, in her disputes be- 74 IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 75 tween men of the hill and the plain, the plain and the shore, between aristocrat and democrat, merchant and farmer, the workings of this desire for sovereignty may be studied. If I have been over-brief in the historical examples hitherto set forth, it is only because they are examples, and subordinate, for my purpose, to the ruling psychological laws which I propose to investi- gate later. This chapter will be on a par with its predecessors in this respect, and I will con- fine myself to a few instances which shall serve to illustrate my meaning and intention, rather than aim at anything approaching historical ex- haustiveness or completeness of scheme or detail. During the recent negotiations over the ques- tion of South African Union, much has been thought and much written about the coloured vote. Whatever may be the feelings obtaining in civilised Europe towards the coloured races, the broadest-minded of Europeans coming to Africa feel that same strange antipathy to the native as is prevalent among the oldest inhabi- tants. Or if a broad sympathetic nature is able to overcome this unreasoned sentiment, yet there is always a feeling of superiority. Give but the native equal rights with the white man, set both on a political equality, and the kindly feeling will receive a rude shock. I cannot say that I have seen any instances of brutality to the natives during my stay in South Africa, the general ten- dency being to treat them well and liberally, so 76 LATENT IMPULSE long as they are kept in their sphere. The native question is one which I hope to go into more fully in a subsequent chapter, so I will keep my remarks within very narrow bounds at the present juncture. The harm that may be done to the native, the harm that Olive Schreiner has recently raised her long-silent voice against, is that which would arise from carelessness rather than cruelty. One often hears it said in South Africa that the Dutch knew best how to treat the natives, and I think that this statement owes a great deal of its cogency to the fact that the English are too inclined to be easy-going and good-natured. The fault lies in the English- man's laziness and his adoption of the character of the generous magnate who does not bother about details. So long as his native servant is obedient and respectful, does his work without causing worry and annoyance, the English master is not inclined to trouble himself further. If the native steals or cheats a little, it only means a little to the master, and it is not worth worry- ing about. But what does it mean to the " boy ?" If the boy is disobedient in some small thing, it is often passed over, and he soons learns to take advantage of this, and his character is soon ruined. Above all, there does not seem to be enough care as to what the native does in his spare time, and when out of employment. What of the evils which he has had a glimpse of in the towns may he not practice in a degraded kind IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 77 of imitation, herded as he is with many others of his kind in a sordid "location!'' All this may seen gratuitously generous to many European critics. We seize on a people's country and in the height of our generosity try to improve their position as our servants and stipulate that the locations in which we confine them shall be properly regulated. But into the rights or wrongs of conquest and usurpation I do not propose to enter. I start with the fact that we are there, rightly or wrongly, and this is how justice and humanity demand that we shall act if we are going to remain there. It was a rude shock to the majority of the whites in South Africa when, under the administration of Mr. Rhodes, the coloured popu- lation of the Cape obtained the right to the franchise. It is maintained by some that this was a party move, and a mere bid for votes. Yet it is difficult to ascribe a motive of this kind to Cecil Rhodes, whose views on the native ques- tion were much more enlightened than those of the general politician. In his breadth of sym- pathy, his world-embracing ideals, he stood far above the crowd who are influenced by the lower emotions, and from what one can glean as to his personal tastes and habits, his claim for equal rights for every civilised man, irrespective of colour, seems to have been formulated in all honesty and sincerity of purpose. Yet United South Africa has condemned the 78 LATENT IMPULSE enfranchisement of the native, and the whole country breathes against the provisions which the draft constitution makes for its curtailment. And few who have to live the South African life can disagree with this sentiment. Nothing is more revolting to the feelings of the visitor from up country than to be pushed off a Cape Town pave- ment by coloured people of every nationality and mixture; or to find every first-class carriage in the local railway train filled by questionable- looking individuals in a horrid and uncouth mix- ture of indigenous and European dress, leaving to the respectable white citizen the alternative of the second or third class (something much worse in South Africa than Englishmen might think), or of making their journey by other means of locomotion. Natives are like children, and when they have a veneer of civilisation, they possess too often the faults of growing youths, with all the rudeness, boastfulness, priggishness, and general uncouthness of youth. And I cannot help thinking that their bearing is largely due to their having been made at least the potential equals of the white man, and this position they are not slow to make the most of. It would be difficult to per- suade the very muddiest of them that they are not whiter than the Englishman. Let it be understood that I am now speaking of the Cape coloured people, who are more mixed, more heterogeneous than the Kaffirs, and are to a very large extent of Eastern origin. The up-country IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 79 Kaffir is to them what the honest uncouth peasant is to the smart and repulsive barber's assistant. I think that from what I have said it may be safely inferred that the granting of the franchise to a coloured population under such conditions is one of the gravest errors of statesmanship. And it illustrates what I propose to bring forward as my main argument, that it is a huge mistake to make a gratuitous gift of that greatest of all social possessions, political sovereignty. This is a thing to be obtained by prayer and fasting, by fire and water, by battle and by blood. When Mephistophiles made his compact with Faust, he asked for his signature in blood, just for formality's sake. And, although we learn from sociologists that the tendency of advancing civilisation is to conventionalise the barbarous practices of the past, and " to count heads instead of breaking them," reflection brings out the fact that few lasting popular compacts have been made without some spilling of blood, or its equivalent. Perhaps it is better to say, in deference to modern conditions, that a people obtains nothing until it arrives at the blood-pitch, for it is only by willingness to shed its blood that its earnestness is proved. Intellectual aspira- tions, dialectic speeches are of no account in this matter; it is only the willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice which evinces that unreason- ing determination, all-powerful in the degree that it defies all intellectual scrutiny. The power of 8o LATENT IMPULSE a movement may often be judged by its seeming unreasonableness. What can be more alien to the tenets of reason and decorum than the clang- ing din and ranting doctrines of a Salvationist meeting ? Yet in the lack of reason and decorum lies the secret of the power of this body, both socially and in the sphere of religion. The doctrine of physical force has been well appreciated by those last aspirants to sovereign power, the Suffragists. You may argue with them till your breath fails you about the proper sphere of woman, and the righteousness of those laws of nature which have given the superiority to man. Woman is showing that she is also part of the law of nature, and she is moulding nature to her will. If woman is determined to share in the sovereign power, no force on earth will hold it from her, least of all the force of logic and dialectic. You may point out to her that she is making herself ridiculous, that she is bring- ing shame and disgrace on her sex. She will only retort by being more ridiculous and more shameless until she has created a new tribunal by which her actions shall be judged. You may as well tell her that it is unwomanly and unladylike to descend to physical violence, as try to enforce the terms of the Geneva Convention upon an army of hostile savages. While you are harang- uing them, they will "assegai " you. Let but a suffragist be killed in a scuffle with the police, and their case is won for ever. IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 81 What did the surging mobs of the French Revolution care about decorum or gratitude or justice ? What discrimination did they make between a beneficent aristocrat and a cruel one ? What did loyalty, allegiance, mean to them? They were fierce, wild, indiscriminate and they were powerful in proportion as they were un- reasoning. But why should this sea of passion have burst forth at that particular time ? Were the corvees heavier, the taxes more burdensome, the nobles more unthinking, the court more sel- fish than at other times? If we follow Arthur Young we may be disposed to think so, but the soundness of his conclusions has been called in question of late years. Not that every detail he gives may not be true but his is the wrong way to set about things. If you want to collect griev- ances you will find a crop of them in the best managed institutions, just as in the richest and most powerful states you will find the greatest number of instances of poverty. A commission collected statistics of our declining trades a few years ago, and were really able to make such a show as to make the newspapers howl with ex- citement. And yet in the year that so many of these cases were discovered our total trade was booming to such an extent as had never been experienced before. Such a state of things is only to be expected under a Free Trade regime which permits the stronger industry to come in and push the weaker one to the wall. Under this k 82 LATENT IMPULSE system things find their own level, and there must be a constant flow in consequence, and while the most efficient trade is naturally selected, the howls of the inefficient will make themselves heard. Those who are steadily coining money say nothing about it. In the same way Arthur Young may have been deceived. He was not let too freely into the secret of the hoard stowed away in the bed; but every one has a grievance, real and imaginary, and Young found it. On the whole it is better to trust an indigenous genius to the curiosity-hunter from a foreign land, and de Tocqueville should be a safer guide on the state of France before the Revolution than Arthur Young. The former, after making a most careful study of the evidence, has come to the conclusion that the evils pressing upon the peasantry were not more grievous than in former times; in fact, in his opinion they were less so. Further the influence of the Encyclopaedists, the Physiocrats, and especially Turgot, rather made for the betterment of the peasant, in that his im- portance was better appreciated than ever before. As has been said in the last chapter, this was an age of sympathy, not callousness, of enlighten- ment, not cruelty. Moreover, it was an age of rest, and rest to the French peasant, whose horror for war lay in the fact that his lands were laid open to desolation, meant a steady increase in wealth. That poor people do not make revolutions we have seen in our own day, when IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 83 an Imperial Monarch granted a constitution to a clamouring people, and snatched it away again in all but the merest shadow. But the people were too poor, too down-trodden, too utterly miserable and broken-hearted to revolt. Our historical experience tells us the same thing. What could have been worse than the lot of the French people in the days of the Jacqueries ? But there was then no wide-spread, unanimous rebellion. De Tocqueville's conclusion is, then, that the French rose in revolution at the time they did because they had become rich and powerful enough to do so. He does not quite say why they should want to revolt at all, being so well off, but I think this is explained by that impulse of popular sovereignty, the collective counter- part of the personal "self-feeling," which compels us all, in a greater or less degree, to assert our personality. This particular event is the better understood when we remember Taine's observation that French literature, government, and civilisation were superposed. France has had a magnificent and romantic history, but it all savoured of the chivalric days, even the Homeric. The glory was of the leader, not of the people, and belonged to the days when the well-bred, well-fed noble, who rode into battle clad in mail, and slaughtered hundreds of the rabble armed with scythes and bill-hooks. Until the Revolution the French peasantry could have had no more weight, no more self-feeling than 84 LATENT IMPULSE an unthinking rabble led out to the battle-field to fight for the glory of their lord, or "le grand monarque." But in the Revolution days the mob learnt to know itself, to realise its power ; it became self-conscious. Since then France has been one body, one unified whole, and whether she be a Republic or a Monarchical State, the fact will remain that every man in France will count, and will share in the sovereignty. That is what France got from the Revolution, and it is pretty safe to assume that that was what the people revolted for. They had a Dictator, and an Emperor, great campaigns, military glory, the foundations of an empire. But none of these things lasted, and none were required to last. But the codification of the laws, the social system, this France kept and keeps to the present day, for they are all part and parcel of the thing she strove for. A country situated like France, with a small dominating class and a large subject population, was bound sooner or later to have her Revolu- tion. In England we have had revolutions, too, as the lower strata of society gradually thrust themselves to the top with the usual accompani- ments of earth-quakes and volcanic eruptions. They have been minor adjustments rather than great upheavals, but, for all that, no section of the community has attained to sovereign power without being determined to go to the extremest lengths in order to obtain it. Just prior to 1832 IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 85 Birmingham householders put up notices in their windows to the effect that no taxes would be paid until the Reform Bill was passed. The townspeople began to drill, that they might fittingly receive the Duke of Wellington, who proposed to lay the town in ashes. We cannot doubt, therefore, that the blood-pitch was reached if there was no actual blood shed. But so differently were we constituted from France that no great upheaval was possible. In politics, as in our law, a broadening down from precedent to precedent has been the rule. The reason is that with us there was no superposition of a ruling class and of a strange government. The Conqueror did his work well and conquered both the nobles and the people. But he had good reason to fear his own nobles, his own coun- sellors, his own body-guard, and therefore he made every Englishman swear to be his man as well as being his lord's man ; and, following this precedent, his successors were able to maintain their power by pitting the people against the nobles, being quite confident that the latter weie always but too willing to turn on the people. But, most important of all, in order that the nobles might not wield too much power by virtue of their offices, courts and jurisdiction, the local customs of the Anglo-Saxons were fostered by the Normans and the Plantagenets, so that the chain of these institutions is unbroken from the days of Alfred to our own. 86 LATENT IMPULSE As there has always been a new class thrusting itself into power on becoming qualified by wealth and influence, so in the governing as- sembly there has been a tendency towards a well-defined division between the old wielders of power, jealously guarding their traditional rights, and the new men, alert and pushful, and ever ready to shear some of the plumes of their opposites. At times, owing to corruption, a faulty system of representation, abeyance of in- ternal considerations during foreign complica- tions, Parliament has not voiced the feelings of the people, and the line of division has been slurred over. But potentially, at least, the division has existed, and it is to a large extent the basis of our party system, which, in spite of its faults when decisive and prompt action is required, is yet something of which all English- men may be justly proud and to which they may accord all honour, since it is a natural growth from our conditions and circumstances. At all events foreigners are wont to lavish on our Con- stitution ana' Party System the warmest of praise and admiration, and even to attempt to adopt it as their own. But, transplanted, our Constitution has not the advantage of the natural growth, and therefore fails in one or other particular usually with regard to the Parties. Our system is based on that of a fight, and for a fight you want two combatant parties, neither more or less. In some countries we find but one party ; in another, IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 87 several; in a third, none at all. And can you expect them to organise themselves on definite lines, when a clear demarcation of interest does not exist? Such can only come into being in circumstances similar to our own where there has been the steady conflict, first bloody, later con- ventionalised, through the ages. The French people obtained all they wanted at one fell swoop, they were united in their aim, and they have remained so since. How can such homo- geneity resolve itself into opposing parts? If it splits up at all, it must be into minor interests, shades of feelings, predilections, antipathies, and a melee, not a fair fight, is the result. In America, since the North triumphed over the South, these two being the nearest approach to real parties, there has been almost complete homogeneity, and the party system fails. And wherever it fails, be it noticed, corruption of some sort or other is likely to creep in. It is only the constant friction and competition of the party machine which can keep the wheels of state going bright and smooth, without clog of rust or dirt. Such are the difficulties arising when a con- stitution is bodily transplanted from one country to another. In the former it has grown up in accordance with the laws of evolution, and it fits there like a glove. But transport it to a land whose history has not prepared it for the change and the result cannot fail, at any rate at first, to 88 LATENT IMPULSE be without success. Our own party system is the most characteristic factor of our constitution, and it is this that has been most freely imitated. But it is in the imitation of this particular fea- ture that failure has been most general. You cannot create two opposing parties. They must grow. J CHAPTER IX. CORPORATE SPIRIT. WE have now passed in review the Nation feel- ing, and the impulse of Popular Sovereignty, psychologically the same, differing only as re- gards the sociological status of the bodies they actuate. It is now proposed to take one step lower in the scale, the lowest degiee of which is formed by the individual himself; to deal with him we should have to enter the domain of pure psychology, and study him under the heading of the self feeling. But the scale is not yet com- plete, for we have still to consider this same seeking after self-expression exhibited by smaller bodies within the state, instances of which we are all familiar with under the name of esprit de corps. Jurists and writers on Political Science have dwelt at length upon the existence of cor- porations within a state, and have noted the jealousy with which the state regards them. It cannot be otherwise, for there can exist but one soverign in the state, and the ultimate realisa- tion of the aims of corporate bodies must result in something akin to sovereignty. The law, perhaps, most of all, has found these institutions very trying to deal with, for you cannot imprison go LATENT IMPULSE a corporation if it does wrong, nor, when all are jointly responsible, can you fix the blame on any particular individual. An attempt has been made of late years to get over these difficulties by systems of registration, and articles of incor- poration drawn up in legal form, whereby the exact aims and liabilities of corporate bodies, as regards commercial matters, at least, are clearly laid down and responsibility to a certain extent fixed. Yet there remain many social corpora- tions with general and undefined aims which cannot be brought within the four corners of regu- lations without unjustifiable tyranny towards the freedom of the person. In England we should be especially familiar with these, for by the tacit assent of the sovereign people, we are spiritually and temporarily ruled by them. It is curious to contrast France, whose Revolu- tion made a clean sweep of the old estates and placed everything on the footing of reason, lucid- ity and uniformity. Such things as a recognition of the right of the Church to sit in the Sovereign Assembly as one of the Estates of the Realm, or a tacit concurrence in rule by lawyers, belong to the past, and are no longer tolerated there. That France has had her difficulties in this respect, even in recent times, is evidenced by the recent conflict with the Church. But in that country medievalism is at an end, and the Roman Catholic Church, aiming, like most ecclesiastical bodies when time and opportunity allow, at IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 91 temporal power, was forced to acknowledge defeat. The Churches are viewed in the same light in most of the more advanced states, and in all our colonies. They must confine them- selves to their proper sphere, the spiritual world, or come into deadly conflict with the sovereign people. Yet in England it is the same with our customs as with our hotels, which all colonials fight shy of on account of their antediluvian arrangements. ' Ours is the country of natural selection, and Nature is so slow about it. Should not the rule of the survival of the fittest reach its period with the advent of the intellec- tual state, which is able to judge of what is most fit? We will relegate this question for later consideration. Yet freedom from revolution is dearly bought at the cost of petty tyranny suffered at the hands of bodies who owe their prestige to crusted antiquity. It is all very well for our country to be a Museum to which Americans can flock to see a belted earl, a mitred bishop, and a bewigged barrister, and our national vanity is flattered in the possession of such things, especially as we can descant upon our national freedom at the same time ! But we are not quite where we were in the days of Pitt, when England could thank her insular position for her monopoly of the world's trade. Other nations, now that the demon of war is slumber- ing, are placed more on a par with ourselves, and enjoying the full advantage of our experi- 92 LATENT IMPULSE ments, copying our successes, avoiding our mis- takes, are running us very close in the world's competition. Let the Englishman drop his talk of tariffs, the weapon of the ignorant and in- efficient, and determine, once and for all, to cut away his gaudy impediments. How can com- merce thrive when there are so few openings for those who have left the Board School to obtain technical instruction, when the pith and mar- row of our intellectual youth are seized by those monastic institutions, the Universities, and taught to calculate in Asses and Sesterces ? What political freedom can there be, so long as by consent of the people the lawyer element pre- dominates in Parliament, framing legislation in- comprehensible to the many, which can only be brought into operation by the employment of the profession in their business capacity ? How long will we tolerate this law which " broadens down from precedent to precedent,*' having its foundations in the musty darkness of the Middle Ages? How long will the King's and the People's law be in the hands of a private cor- poration, admission to which is largely depend- ent on the performance of mediaeval rights ? How long shall a share of the sovereignty be in the hands of that special corporation, the Church, whose tenets and beliefs are disproved by the laws of science, by which its members are fed and clothed and ministered to in sickness ! A friend of mine, a Civil servant, was refused IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 93 the rite of marriage by a Bishop, on the ground that he had not been baptised. This rite was refused by the State's Bishop to the State's ser- vant. Ecclesiastically, the Bishop was quite within his rights, and my friend had other means to resort to. If he did not conform to the Church of England, he had no right to demand of the Bishop, as a member of an ecclesiastical body, to have the ceremony performed under his auspices. But why is he the State's Bishop? Such an anomaly would not be tolerated in any of our colonies, nor would any single one of the anomalies above mentioned. Yet, strange to say, the political feelings of the Colonies are all on the side of the Bishops, the Lawyers, the Lords at home. A fact, which shows how little reason and logic enter into history and politics, and which will be reserved for later considera- tion. But let me pause; I see that my rational feelings have won the upper hand, and that I have become a partisan instead of an enquirer. My theme is that history and politics are ir- rational. For brilliant study of the various corporations fermenting in the France of to-day the Church, the Nobility, the Army and the Jews I will refer the reader to M. Anatole France's series of works clustering round the figure of the amiable M. Bergeret. In England we have our own army problem, but on its social and constitutional side it cannot have the importance which it has 94 LATENT IMPULSE in the "conscription" states. With us the Army is one of the closest of Corporations, and its members look askance at the civilian as an uncouth bird with no pedigree and ragged plumage. But the uncouth fowl are in the majority, and as most of them are unaware of the manner in which they are regarded, and, if they knew, would not be sensitive on the point, the matter is of little consequence. The great bearing which this state of things has upon society is in the direction of efficiency. Setting aside the growing class of professional soldiers, one still meets with a few officers of the old school, who are inclined to take up the stand- point that the State owes them a living, irrespec- tive of their merits. But the average citizen is beginning to look for full value for his money. Perhaps that is why the old rates of pay, fixed in the days when a soldier was considered to be a roving bachelor, without ties and liabilities, and a man of family and means to boot, tend to be continued in the older arms, although the officer has developed into a Church-going married man, who has to pass examinations, and is sup- posed to be equipped with a certain amount of technical knowledge. The officer very naturally complains; the State, like Brer Rabbit, says nothing. Perhaps the two are at cross pur- poses, and each waits for the other to make a move. The officer wants better pay for his in- creasing duties; the State, on the other hand, IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 95 may have a sub-conscious uneasiness about the changed conditions. The Army, like the Church, must necessarily fall short of efficiency in so far as it is a social function on the one hand, and handicapped by tradition on the other. In these days of competition, as much keenness and knowledge are required from the soldier as from the architect or civil engineer. The days of the dashing, mustachio'd, amorous, reckless and brainless cavalryman, are gone by, and if the nation is tolerant of the old institu- tions in this branch of her service, it is because of her latent intuition that the Army is not her only line of defence. There is another corporation of a rather unique kind which has at one time or other been the cause of trouble in almost every European State. It may be wondered why I do not treat this ques- tion under the head of Nationality, for it is a nation whose position I am about to discuss, a nation which, strange to say, has given up its nationality, that treasure which most people defend with their life-blood. There has been much said and written of a repatriation of the Jews, but a sudden change in the character and impulses which have persisted for eighteen cen- turies is scarcely to be expected. The " Wan- dering Jew " is too used to wandering to give it up at once. Besides, as I propose to show later on, such a change of policy would be contrary to the principles of evolution and development of all nations. 96 LATENT IMPULSE Why are Jews so hated by all the peoples among whom they settle ? Are they physically repulsive ? On the whole they are a handsome race. Is their presence detrimental to the State ? As unofficial bankers they have always been most useful. Do they possess a low intellectual and moral standard ? In the realms of know- ledge and the arts they have always been supreme, and recent investigations show the morality of their poorer classes to be above the average. Is it then simply as a corporation that they are hated ? Is there a secret political reason for the feeling? It is hard to think so, for far from making a parade of solidarity, there appears to be a tendency to conceal their difference from the rest of the population. And yet for the con- stant endurance of persecution probably no race which has ever peopled the earth can equal their record. Why should this be ? It was once suggested to me that the constancy of this antipathy was due to the Jews never hav- ing fought their persecutors, that the great blood- seal had never been given to make a lasting com- pact. There may be something in this reason, for, if we consider the humble ass, the reason for the contempt with which he is regarded can only be due to the submissive manner in which he bears the harshest treatment. We are most of us, too, familiar with the cruelty so conspicuous in herds of animals, as it is among savage races of mankind, and even among the civilised when IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 97 the passions have been so roused as to burst through the thin veneer of culture, when a weak member has fallen into a position of disadvan- tage. The persecution thus finds several parallels in Nature. But to me the reason sug- gested seems to be only a partial one. We must go back a step further and ask " Why have the Jews been reluctant to shed blood in their defence?" The answer seems to be " Because they are a socially unemotional people." Have we not seen that they have sacrificed, of their own accord, that greatest of all social emotions nationality ? Yet, what, if we examine it, is this vaunted nationality? Why should the same feeling, when applied to one's village be sneered at as parochialism ? And may we not look for- ward to a day when even nationality and patriot- ism will be regarded as things of man's infancy? The world took from the Jews their Jehovah, and adopted their monotheism ; they also took from the Jewish people the iiK&v whereby the Es- sence might be comprehended. In exchange it gave persecution and hatred. But this great originative race has still a gift which may not be wrested from her, the intellectual ev ?TJV, the freedom from unreasoning collective impulse. The Jews, like philosophers, have stood aloof from the silly conflicts of nations, and have let the fools struggle for folly and fame, language, empty titles. But when the fight was over and half the combatants on each side slain, they have G 98 LATENT IMPULSE always been on the spot to reap the benefit. Thus wise men reap the benefit of folly. Is there a necessary antipathy between the emotional and the intellectual nature? Not essentially, I think. But if the intellectual nature is to increase at the expense of the emotional, there is every reason for antipathy. This is just the ground on which latent impulse would grow. If some day the nations of the world are to sink all their national individual- ities in a broad, intellectual cosmopolitanism, there is every chance for those who have been first in the field taking a long lead, especially as many throats must first be cut under the old regime. But whether our secret impulses carry us as far as this, it would be difficult to say, and perhaps the real reason, after all, may be but instinctive cruelty where there is no retalia- tion, coupled perhaps with a sentiment of aver- sion for those who are unlike both in nationality and character. CHAPTER X. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL VIEW OF EMOTION. THE exact science of to-day is playing havoc with the ideals of our grandfathers. Ruskin railed against modern competition, modern invention as though they were evil spirits grinning with de- light as they removed the last vestiges of poverty and tiadition from the world. But let the laudator temporis acti pour forth his sarcasm, backed with all the learning of the ancients, as much as he will, he is fighting no artificial thing, but the great natural movement of events. The electric dynamo does its work by virtue of that same evolution and natural force by which wood- land nooks " Send violets up and paint them blue." After all our ancient philosophers are not al- together consistent. These natural, perfectly naive developments they look askance at, yet wish artificially to keep up those old superstitions and customs which, though perfectly natural in their own age, would be the height of artificiality in our own. But it is a phychological fact that as men grow older, their sympathy with the new decreases, and finally leaves them. Enterprise 99 ioo LATENT IMPULSE and love of invention, only found when mankind has reached a certain stage of development, have the same history in the individual as in the race, and fall off in the inverse order of their acquire- ment. Now invention and progress advance in geometrical progression, or, following the rule "To him that hath shall be given," at an even greater rate, and, with our recent freedom from general wars and disturbing influences, the ad- vance has been phenomenal since our fathers were boys. No wonder then that their fathers are more out of touch with extreme modernity than grandfathers have ever been before during the whole world's history. Let us not forget that the old myths, beautiful as they are, are out of place as soon as they no longer apply to modern life, and, although they will always have great antiquarian interest, we could not retain them as the guiding principles of our lives with- out incurring social suicide. Even the greatest protagonist among the clergy of the claims of religion against science, for instance, does not deprive himself of the benefit of electric baths, or the X-Rays, if they will benefit his health ; nor when his earthly battles are about to close, does he fail to call in the most expert exponents of that science which he has vigorously opposed in the exercise of his calling. One gets tired of the oft repeated question, " What do you give us in place of the doctrines taught us in our youth?" It is like the complaint of the man IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 101 waked from those ineffable dreams which the fatal snow-sleep gives. We cannot presume to offer the truth in place of the old teachings, but we can at least point out the futility of relying upon that which is proved to be false. The refined mind finds a great pleasure in dwelling upon the myths with which natural phenomena were enveloped by an infant race, and his love of these things is apt to incite a kind of proselytism. He is happy in this world of thought and association. How beautiful it would be, he thinks, if the mechanic and the ploughman and the child on its way to school, could be filled with the same beautiful thoughts. This cult of the past he begins to regard as something naive, because the ideas originated with simple peoples. In reality his mind is steeped in artificiality, a character which he desires to confer on his straight-thinking con- temporaries. No, the desire for truth and for knowledge is as much an emotion as love or anger, and is as much part of our evolution as they. But it is of later development and appear- ance; in our present state of civilisation, it is the latest, and, accordingly, the first to disappear on the approach of senility. Here is a further cause of estrangement between the new and the old. And, if we look at the question impartially, is there no romance in knowledge and research and striving after truth ? Was there no pathos in the words of the declining Lessing, when he said : 102 LATENT IMPULSE " If God held in his right hand truth, and in his left the eternal desire for truth, coupled with the certainty of always erring, and said ' Choose,' I would in all humility choose the left hand, and say ' Father, the truth is for Thee alone.' ' Can science boast of no martyr- doms, and those suffered in no frenzy which would abate the fury of the flames, but in pure desire for truth, or Promethean sympathy for mankind? Are not the pleasures of pure know- ledge comparable to those more aesthetic and artificial delights of the fancy ? But, however these questions be answered, we have to live this life as it is, according to the best of our lights, and true happiness can only come through doing well that which our hand is set to. Happiness is the result of the full and proper use of all our functions. A dream may confer unspeakable pleasure, but it is ephemeral and unreal, and therefore we must take as our leaders those poets and apostles of duty and real life rather than the faddists and men of taste. Plato would have abolished poets from his Re- public because truth was not the commodity they dealt in, and in our own day the difficulties which exact science has to cope with in gaining a foot- hold are as great as ever. The poet and the novelist have found an ample field for their labours in the emotions of man- kind, and their treatment of the subject has been largely accountable for an error in emotional IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 103 psychology which largely persists to-day even among the exponents of the science. What is more natural to our way of thinking than to imagine some untoward circumstance affecting an individual, and the latter, on comprehending it, falling into a passion, or, perhaps a tremor of fear? The newer school of psychologists, however, reverse the order of the process, and say that the circumstance causes the passion or the trembling, and thereafter we become aware of our feeling. That is, we do not tremble be- cause we are angry, but we are angry because we tremble, and are merry because we laugh. The emotion takes place and our intellect may or may not be concerned. Usually it is con- cerned, and if so, it is only concerned in a second- ary manner. In the lower regions of life we perceive that there are sensations and conscious- ness without there being any possibility of awareness, as with plants and lower forms of animal life. What the nature of emotion is can hardly be definitely stated in the present con- dition of psychological research, no more than we can say exactly what electricity is. We can only point to its effects, and make guesses at the nature of the phenomenon. Definite symp- toms have been established for the various kinds of emotion, namely, derangements and changes in the functions and organs of the body. These are the visible manifestations of the emotion, not the emotion itself. Still, it is maintained that io 4 LATENT IMPULSE these are more closely allied with it than the mental concomitants are, the intellectual states of fear, love, and anger. From an examination of the symptoms, enlargement or contraction of certain organs, differences in the flow of blood, abnormal action of the heart, changes of colour and temperature, feelings of nausea, sickness and the rest, it would appear that some chemical change is effected in the body through the sense impression, and that this is the emotion. If this view is correct and it is that main- tained by Professor Ribot, one of the most im- portant figures in the phsychological world an explanation would be afforded of those strange spontaneous emotions which we sometimes feel without any support from the intellect, often in its despite. We may feel an unaccountable malaise in a certain person's company, or be affected with positive aversion for him, while nevertheless, our mind can assign no reason for the affection. At other times w r e are affected with grave depression and mysterious forebod- ings without apparent cause or reason. If it be admitted that the intellect is not necessarily affected by emotion, and only then in a second- ary sense, the reason of such phenomena be- comes perfectly clear. We can then understand Antonio's state of mind as described by himself in the opening lines of the " Merchant of Venice": IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 105 "In sooth I know not why I am so sad; It wearies me, you say it wearies you ; But how I found it, caught it, came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn." But there are degrees in people's susceptibility of these unconscious impressions. Those who have studied Dr. Reid's book, "The Principles of Heredity," will remember his luminous account of the way in which man's intellect has developed at the expense of his instincts. The dragonfly comes into the world fully equipped for the battle of life, replete with an uncon- scious instinct to meet every likely emergency. It is so with all the lower animals. They are the productions of a natural selection which has eliminated all limbs and members and all in- stincts which would be detrimental to existence ; at the same time encouraging all those which are useful and beneficial. Just how intelligence arose we are unable to say, but with it came a great change, and the change is greater, the more highly the creature is placed in the in- tellectual scale. When a thing can understand, it can be taught, and the knowledge it acquires by teaching is more elastic, and a far deeper and more trenchant weapon than the old equipment. There is no longer any need to bend to Nature ; by reason, Nature can be bent. But there is always a retribution, and honest instinct which came a volunteer, and was a fairly reliable machine in its own narrow sphere, was lost, as io6 LATENT IMPULSE the new acquirement was gained. But this may not be so much owing to a kind of natural justice and compensation as to a much more important fact, namely, that there would have been an eternal conflict between reason and in- stinct, such as is even now experienced in ex- ceptional cases, and this could only have resulted in disaster. And so the child, the culmination of this process, comes into the world helpless and unequipped, but, on the other hand, a perfectly plastic being, docile to the teacher, full of latent capabilities which will be brought out by educa- tion, a ready instrument in the hands of the all- powerful Environment. I say, all-powerful, but this is perhaps going too far. Dr. Reid, as an exponent of Weissmann, is anxious to prove that acquired characters are not inherited, and so he lays great stress on the negative side of the in- fant's position. But as Dr. Reid points out at the same time, heredity in its broader sense is still in play, and the child tends to reproduce an average character of its ancestors; and beyond this he maintains that there is the spontaneous generation of new and unexpected characters. Much of this teaching has to be revised in the light of modern experiment and research, and prominence which has recently been given to the views of de Vries and Mendel. But in the main the position seems sound, and no one can doubt that this intellectual plasticity has been gained, and the old instincts have become IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 107 atrophied in the human being; and these are the main points I wish to insist on for the pur- poses of my discussion. The comparative method of research has thrown new light upon these subjects, and in the uncivilised and less advanced races of mankind we are able to study ourselves in an earlier stage of development. Further, the study of embryology and investiga- tions into the growth and development of the human being, have clearly demonstrated that the civilised man tends to pass through all the stages, not only of the physical evolution of the race, but also of its social and intellectual de- velopment. Thus we find close parallelism be- tween the ways of savages and children, a f^ct which should be well remembered in dealing with uncivilised and partly civilised peoples. The comparative method also teaches us to recog- nise partial and arrested development in mem- bers of our own societies, and, as few members come up to the highest pitch of development in all their faculties or on every occasion, it also points out to us examples of the same phenomena in the normal individual. In times of weakness or excitement we may feel in ourselves the dominant culture giving way to the latent im- pulses of a lower stage of development or the more primitive instincts of the animal. And, as intellect stands above emotion, so, in the emo- tions, there are grades in the order of develop- ment. At the top are the love and passion for io8 LATENT IMPULSE knowledge, the intellectual emotion; a little lower, the aesthetic ; and at the bottom, the primi tive instincts of self-preservation. In pathology the peeling off in order of the latest acquirments can be perceived in the decaying individual, until finally only the animal feelings are left, the desire to eat and drink and live ; a state re- calling the verse of Juvenal : " Et propter vitam, vivendi perdere causas." There art often met with in society poor crea- tures possessing but half the wit of a normal man, yet gifted to a strange degree on the instinc- tive and emotional side. Readers of fiction will remember many instances, especially in the novels of the Romantic period of literature, when the eerie and mysterious and the irrational were in favour. The wise woman and the half- witted fiddler figure largely in Sir Walter Scott's works, and very beautifully do they play their parts, stepping in to save by their superhuman, or, had we not better say, infra-human know- ledge, where intellect had been unable to cope with adverse fortunes. Modern German romance has a parallel figure in Wieten Penn, the good genius of Jorn Uhl ; she is known among her people as Wieten Klook, that is, Klug, Wise Wieten. She can tell when good or evil fortune is approaching and reads the omens like the seers of old. In the Middle Ages these half-wits were IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 109 regarded with little favour, chiefly owing to the influence of the Church; but they were greatly feared for their supposed supernatural powers, and if ducking did not quench the evil spirit, the fire was usually resorted to as a safe and certain method. But before the Church held sway these abnormal beings enjoyed better days, and were honoured among the classic nations as prophets, seers, and holy beings, the " insanavates " being a recognised social and religious institu- tion ; and among the Celts and Teutons the bards and alrunas were similarly honoured. Poets, too, were supposed to be possessed of a similar divine madness, and this view of poetical genius is strongly corroborated by modern research. Professor Lombroso seems to have clearly demonstrated that genius normally goes hand in hand with some form of degeneration, and is almost a symptom of atrophy in one or other of the functions; and poetic expression is one of the most characteristic phases of the genius. The normal man, by whom the state of our develop- ment can alone be fairly judged, is punctual, methodical, a good paterfamilias, endowed with prudence and benevolence in due proportion, so that neither out-tops the other. But as he is no genius, so the man of genius has not usually these attributes, or has very few of them. Most great poets have been the reverse of punctual, with no method in their daily life, anti-social creatures, with a code of morals of their own, i io LATENT IMPULSE without prudence or forethought. So common are these faults with this class that their posses- sion becomes almost typical, and a figure like Goethe, possessing astonishing powers of intui- tion and " natural magic," together with the very highest social and beneficient qualities, stands out as one of the great anomalies, an exception to the invective and empirical rule, for there is apparently no hard and fast a priori necessity for the divorce of the great and the good. Shakespeare, in the few lines in which he sketches the character of Horatio, the antithesis of that great example of degeneration coupled witrf negative genius, Hamlet, has shown how well he appreciated these principles, since eluci- dated by science. " Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man As e'er my conversation coped withal. For thou has been (As one, in suffering all, that suffer nothing) ; A man, that fortune's buffets and rewards Has ta'en with equal thanks ; and blest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well :o-mingled, That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she pleases. Give me that man. That is not passion's slave, and I shall wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of hearts, As I do thee." " Edel sei der Mensch, hilfreich und gut," writes Goethe, and the honest, unimaginative, useful man has been a favourable theme in litera- IN HISTORY AND POLITICS in ture. Meredith's "old dog," who, in his blun- dering, faithful way, proves the soundest man in the end, Dobbin in " Vanity Fair," and, most recent of all, Jorn Uhl, area few examples among the many. But your genius is at once above and below this standard. You cannot live with him ; he has objectionable habits ; he is uncouth in his manners, or he drinks, or deserts his family ; often he has an immoral kink. But on the other hand he has flights of fancy or imagination or intellectuality which carry him beyond our ken. There is something uncanny about him. Things come to him in dreams; your poet often writes as if at the dictation of a superior being; he is "rapt," his functions are not his own for tie time. His astonishing bouts of sensuousness, when he seems to be holding communion with the essesence of things around him, his intermit- tent feeling of kinship with Nature and her spirit, his interpretation of her moods, his seeming acquaintance with the language of birds and the habits of animals, are unattainable by the normal man, but however great and admirable they may be, however helpful and inspiring to the best, they must, in a way, be considered to be but lapses into the lower world of emotion and in- stinct. The uncanny cleverness, and the certainty of effect remind us of the qualities displayed by the Red Indian and, still more, by the dog. Such perfections are part of the lower world, of that nature which equipped the young dragonfly with ii2 LATENT IMPULSE all her armour for the battle of life, or the pigeon with its instinct for home ; they are not the normal part of the race which has given up certainty on a low level for the privilege of erring on the heights. Closely akin to the poet in respect of emotional capacity is the child. The child is a poet in his way; and the poet, to be good, must always be something of a child ; to carry the imagination of childhood into the power of manhood is, accord- ing to the magician Coleridge, his great function. And as " the child is father of the man," so is he, in a way, man's ancestor, for he is passing through a stage through which mankind once passed. The child has wide sympathies with all in Nature; he knows objects by secret names, and is acquainted with their inner virtues. Things animate and inanimate are his playmates, and he is not widely differentiated from them. It takes a clever hypocrite to deceive a child. So here again we see emotionalism ascendant over intellectuality, and it is associated with imma- turity. And while we are dealing with the sub- ject, it may be suggested here that many of those telepathic phenomena which excite the curious at the present day may be caused by a reversion, temporary or otherwise, to a state of emotion- alism and instinct to which the intellectually sound are usually strangers. When the pigeon flies direct to its home over miles of unknown country, when the swallows fly to the South, IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 113 when the dog scents out the hare, we do not bring in any supernatural interpretation to the facts. Yet many less wonderful incidents in human life are so explained. Of course, some of them are of a very different character from any- thing which could be experienced in the lives of animals, yet others, which we are so apt to regard as supernatural, might they not be sub-intellec- tual ? At any rate, strange affections and anti- pathies, hopes and forebodings might be so explained, for they have all the symptoms of emotions. CHAPTER XI. WOMAN AND EMOTION. ASMUS SEMPER, in Otto Ernst's charming romance, used to worry himself when he could only grasp mathematical problems intellectually. This was not enough for him ; he wanted to feel them, just as he could feel that an equilateral triangle was equilateral. Thus, in the perpetual wave-motion of evolution, after deserting instinct for intellect, we come back to a sort of shorthand of the brain which is practically a new instinct. Reflex action belongs to the realm of instinct, but after a time custom teaches us to answer with- out the necessity of reflection, and to add up figures mechanically, and thus confers a reflex of use. In this way the mathematician comes to " feel " the solution of a problem. But we are far from having exhausted the cate- gory of beings in our own society who are pre- eminently emotional in the primitive sense. It is well known that, with the increasingly intellec- tual, competitive and nervous life of woman, her maternal capacity is much lower than under the old conditions. We may go further and say that the motherly side of a woman and her intel- 114 IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 115 lectual side are in constant rivalry, and each is intolerant of the other. There appears to be the same compensation here as in the case of intel- lectual development of the race, the intellect increasing at the expense of the emotional and instinctive side. Normally the limited vital force goes to feed one kind of machinery or the other, the mechanical-instinctive, or the elastic- intellectual. But, in the light of the Mendelian theory, we need not suppose that the instinctive altogether decays in whole or part, but would rather imagine that it is recressive beneath the intellectual dominant. That is, it is always there, and may crop out undisguised in a future generation, or in the individual himself, given the necessary conditions. And although in woman the sex qualities and the instinctive nature that accompanies them may exist in a most astonishing way side by side, this must be looked on as rather an exceptional, although always pos- sible, instance, and comparable to the co-exis- tence of na'ive poetic genius and moral, practical method in a Goethe. An astonishing case of this kind once came to my notice ; a lady of excep- tional brain-power and intellectual attainments was also possessed of emotional and instinctive qualities quite strange to the sphere of civilisa- tion and culture. Her sense of smell would tell her infallibly by which member of her family an overcoat had last been worn, to take a simple instance, and rooms and houses conveyed mean- ii6 LATENT IMPULSE ings to her connected with past history and associations to her senses. In a woman who was less intellectual this would only be a case of the exceptional development of the instinctive and emotional qualities which are necessarily con- nected with the sexual functions. The latter oc- cupy so much more space in a woman's life than in a man's, and they are much less easily got away from. A man may lose his sex, and the tendency of his development has been for him to do so, or to let it slip into the background. But the instinct of motherhood is not so easily got away from, and thus, though a man may become a philosopher, a woman nearly always remains a woman. So, as man has become more civilised the nature of woman has become more and more a mystery to him, and he recognises that there is a gulf fixed between them, a gulf which his powers are unable to fathom. He looks and won- ders at the ease vvith which she comprehends things which took him hours of patient study to discover, at her decision in times of crisis, her certainty in times of doubt. A man works out the probabilities as to which is the best course to take ; a woman often feels which is best. When I meet a man, I think him a good fellow, and afterwards regret the day I met him ; or I am at first repelled by his manners and afterwards find him a sterling friend. Had I asked a certain lady friend of my acquaintance, she would have told me straight, not perhaps the character IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 117 of each, but whether he was " nice," as she would call it, or the reverse. Her feeling in that case would not be analytical, but she would have an instinct of attraction or repulsion, she would sense danger or the reverse, as a dog would. This quality of detecting friends, to be observed in animals and children, savages, and women, is one of those old instincts which the intellectual man has lost. Woman's animal nature, by which I mean simply the physical side of her existence, has been perpetually with her in the past, and as it is her strength, so it has been the source of her weakness. Always subject to times of weakness, she has been abused by the stronger half of the community and enslaved. She soon found that happiness could only be secured by pleasing her victor, and the kind who pleased most have tended to increase most. Thus selection has developed the sexual side of woman and its con- comitants, and even the champions of her ad- vancement admit that she is over-sexed. Now that individuals have shown sporadically what woman can do, that she is not necessarily de- barred from the higher walks of life by her sex, a new era may set in with woman the intellectual rival or companion of man, and sex may fall more into abeyance to the advantage of the whole community. But it is often risky to dabble with Nature's method's and to attempt to supplant a natural by an artificial selection. Nature as a u8 LATENT IMPULSE rule prevails, and in this case the sexually in- clined would have a natural advantage as re- gards increase over the opposite kind. But that is really no argument at all if we are bent on doing things thoroughly. We have interfered with natural selection ever since the state came into existence for the sake of the tu *}v, and if critics carp at the failures of state socialism one can retaliate that it is only because the pre- sent measures are not thorough for the state spells socialism, and necessarily entails it. But however woman's position may be im- proved by the endeavours of her protagonists, the fact of motherhood cannot be got over, and so long as it exists, which will probably be as long as our race, woman will possess instincts directed towards the preservation of her offspring, and kindred feelings. Her emotions will always be stronger than man's for that she can not be dissociated from the physical functions which entail them. CHAPTER XII. COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY. IT may be wondered what my object was in de- voting a chapter in a book of this character to female psychology. My reason is that the latter furnishes me with a most useful parallel for phenomena in the sociological sphere. There have been many theories as to the nature of the civil state, from the ancient Greeks downwards, and in politics as in many other sciences the cry of " Back to Aristotle " is often raised after long meanderings in mazes and by-paths. But if we are unable to say much more to-day about the reason, laws and nature of the state than the Greek philosopher, the study of natural science has at least been of some assistance in furnishing illustrations and analogies which may in time help to further elucidate the theory and reasoning of the subject. It is obvious that there are two concurrent existences in the state, the individual and the collective, and there has been much theorising as to the relations which subsist or which should subsist between the two. The vague impulsive reasoning of the Contrat Social set men thinking, if it gave them little light, and later the Utilitarians strove to lay down rules 119 120 LATENT IMPULSE which should strike the balance between the two claimants. Those who hold that the individual should regulate his actions for the public good is met by the objection that all the individual's actions and impulses are and must be selfish or self-regarding; then the exponent of the His- torical method attempts to smooth over the difficulty by showing that self-regarding actions which were deleterious to the community would tend to decrease with the necessary elimination of their perpetrators, and thus self-regarding actions which were also useful to the community would gradually predominate. When the state begins, at least, the self-conscious state, the old natural selection ends, and a new biology, a new evolution comes into being, and a sociological must take the place of a physical science. But this, I think, is within limits. For inasmuch as biology has, by the examples it has furnished, afforded great assistance in the elucidation of sociological problems, I am inclined to think that the cleavage between social and natural science has been too premature, and that the state, or any collection of individuals may yet be studied biologically. The state has by some been compared to cer- tain forms of marine life, for instance, the Hydroid Polypes, whose nature is colonial. The group possesses a number of components, each of which is an entity, with its own organs, and functions. Yet the nourishment, and well- IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 121 being of the whole depends on that of the parts, and as the part cannot live without the whole, neither can the whole without the parts. The one implies the other, and the two existences go on together, each wrapped up in the other. We may study an individual of the colony, as we may study an individual in the state, or we may regard, in each case, the whole collectively, ac- cording to our point of view. There are some things of which a definition cannot be given, and we are obliged to fall back upon description or analogy. In the present case if it were im- possible to define the state, this natural analogy would afford a very tolerable indication of its nature and composition. When we get beyond the region of analogy and strive to explain sociological phenomena biologically it is a more serious matter, and a bountiful equipment of scientific knowledge is requisite for absolute proof. I therefore confine myself to suggestions which I hope may in time be scientifically corroborated. But it is on them, nevertheless, that I base the whole intention of this work. In the earlier chapters I think it has been conclusively shown that there is evi- dence of popular impulse and feeling outside or beneath the region of intelligence. We are familiar with kindred psychological phenomena in individuals. If now it can be proved that the state or the group, considered apart from its components, has a psychology of its own, a satis- 122 LATENT IMPULSE factory explanation is obtained of the historical facts discussed in the earlier half of this book. Anyone who has observed the evolutions of those huge flocks of starlings which are to be seen in England in the Autumn, the extraordin- ary oneness of their motion, especially if they be gyrating about a hawk or other enemy, cannot fail to have wondered whether the uniformity was not due to some single impulse shared by all animals accustomed to live, act and find their nourishment in groups. To say that the unison is merely caused by successive imitation is to ignore the simultaneousness of the movements. And if such an objection be raised or a similar one that all followed the lead of a single in- dividual it would be somewhat begging the question, for you do not get away from the fact that, even then, there is unity of purpose in choosing the leader, or in the formation of a group. I admit that the original grouping might be considered to have arisen through a similarity of individual desires and impulses and to be a mere totalising of units, but such a view is not in accordance with our own experiences nor the teachings of evolution and history. We, ourselves, as part of a crowd met together for some special purpose, are different from our- selves as individual beings. In such circum- stances we are suddenly brought under the sway of a wave of enthusiasm, emotion and anger, which in subsequent solitude we have reviewed IN HISTORY AND POLITICS 123 with astonishment. We can imagine the Mag- yars in their collective enthusiasm shouting Moriamur pro reje nostro y when stirred by the misfortunes of Maria Teresa, while her appeals might have made no impression on them in- dividually. Thus we cannot fail to recognise that the crowd, even casually collected, has a psychology. It seems only reasonable to sup- pose that the unity of action in a group of animals whose community of interests has drawn them together is of the same nature, and the same argument would apply to that most important of all groups the State. The reasoning of Rousseau might lead one to think that the com- pact to hang together was a matter of the in- telligence. Later study has shown it to be a feature of natural evolution. The consideration of the Folk and the Hundred, the Gens and the Tribe, shows these to be spontaneous and not conscious developments ; and whether the many drops on the surface be collected into one, or whether the one be divided into the many, we may be certain that definite intention had little to do with the occurrence. The wild dog is a j '' ijut >J R -i ^J^o^V- LD 21-100i-7,'33 274164 YC 29372 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY