COMPAKATIVE POLITICS
COMPARATIVE POLITICS
SIX LECTURES READ BEFORE THE ROYAL INSTITUTION
IN JANUARY AND FEBRUARY, 1873
THE UNITY OP HISTORY
THE REDE LECTURE READ BEFORE THE UNIVERSITY OF
CAMBRIDGE, MAY 29, 1872
EDWAKD A. FREEMAN, M.A., HON. D.C.L.
LATE FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, OXFORD
"Facies non omnibus una,
Nee diversa taincn, qualem decet esse sororum."
OVID, Met. ii. 13.
SECOND EDITION
ilouticm
MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD.
NEW YORK: MACMILLAN & CO.
18UG
The Unity of History.
First Edition, 1872.
Comparative Politics and The Unity of History.
First Edition, 1873 ; Second Edition, 1896.
Ollegt
Library
Tc
It ft
PREFACE
THE six Lectures read before the Royal Institution are
an attempt to make something like a systematic application
of a line of argument which has been often made use of
in particular cases both by myself and by other writers.
They are an attempt to claim for political institutions a
right to a scientific treatment of exactly the same kind
as that which has been so successfully applied to language,
to mythology, and to the progress of culture. But of course
they do not themselves attempt to do more than make a
beginning, by applying the Comparative method to some
of the most prominent institutions of those among the
Aryan nations whose history was best known to myself
and was likely to be best known to my hearers. Nothing
more than this could well be done in a course of lectures,
even if my own knowledge had enabled me to carry my
illustrations over a much wider range. But I trust that
others whose studies have lain in other branches of history
may be led to take up the subject and to carry it on further.
What I have done may perhaps be enough to show that
Greeks, Italians, and Teutons have a large common stock
of institutions, institutions whose likeness cannot be other-
wise accounted for than by the supposition of their common
primitive origin. It remains now to show how much of this
common stock is common to the whole Aryan family, how
much of the common Aryan stock may be common to the
1 1 539 1 7
vi PREFACE
Aryan and Semitic families, how much of the possible
common Aryan and Semitic stock may be common to the
races of the eastern hemisphere or to the whole of mankind.
On none of these points have I even attempted to enlarge ;
I have merely pointed them out as questions to which my
own inquiries naturally lead up, and which I hope may be
thoroughly worked out by some of those scholars who are
qualified to take them in hand.
Even within the range of the three branches of the Aryan
family which I chose for special examination, the limits
and nature of a course of lectures did not allow of anything
more than to choose some of the more prominent instances
illustrating the positions laid down, and even among these
it was of course impossible to follow out any matter in all
its bearings. The really practical object of a lecture is,
after all, not so much direct teaching as the suggestion of
points for thought and study. With this view I have,
since the lectures were delivered, added a considerable
number of notes and references, in which I have gone
somewhat further into several points than I could do in
the lectures themselves. These may, I hope, set some of
my readers on further inquiries ; I can hardly expect that
in their necessarily desultory shape they can do much more.
I have no doubt that both in the lectures and in the
notes many things will be found which have been already
said both by myself and by other writers. Probably many
things will be found which both myself and other writers
may find occasion to say again, as often as it may be
needful to put forth correct views of matters about which
popular errors and confusions are afloat. There is a large
class of people who pay little heed to a thing that is said
only once, but on whom, when it is said several times and
put in several shapes, it at last has an effect. I believe
that this class is more numerous its needs are certainly
PREFACE vii
better worth attending to than those fastidious persons
who are disgusted if they are ever called upon to hear the
same thing twice. Besides this, the same fact constantly
has to be looked at from different points of view, to be
used to illustrate several general propositions, to be set
before several classes of readers or hearers. I find also
that the best and most successful writers are always those
who have least scruple in putting forth the truths which
they have to enforce over and over again. And I believe
that their so doing is one element of their success.
To the six lectures read before the Royal Institution this
year I have added the Rede Lecture which I had the
great pleasure of being called on to give before the Uni-
versity of Cambridge last year. It was of course written
before the Royal Institution Lectures were either written
or designed. Without forming part of the same course,
it deals with a kindred subject. Both are meant as con-
tributions to the same object, to the breaking down of
the unnatural barrier between what are called " ancient "
and " modern " subjects in language, history, and everything
else. If I should ever see the establishment of a real
School of History and a real School of Language in the
University of Oxford, I shall feel, not only that the
principles for which I have been fighting for years have
been put into a practical shape, but also that a step has
been taken towards the advancement of really sound
learning greater than any that has been taken since the
sixteenth century.
Since these lectures were written I have fallen in with
the work of M. de Coulanges called La Citt Antique, at
least in the English form into which it has been thrown
by Mr. T. C. Barker in his book culled ' Aryan Civilization.'
It deals of course with many of the subjects with which
I have dealt, and those which it does deal with, arc
PREFACE
of course dealt with far more fully than I have done.
But the book, notwithstanding its general title, is almost
wholly confined to Greek and Roman matters, and deals
hardly at all with the kindred Teutonic institutions. Nor
can I at all pledge myself to the author's views on all
matters, as he seems too anxious to account for every-
thing by reference to a single principle, that of religion.
How much I have learned from the writings of Professor
Max Miiller, Mr. E. B. Tylor, and Sir Henry Maine, may
be seen throughout the book. Among foreign writers
it will be seen that I have drawn most largely on the
great Deutsche Verfassungsgeschichte of G. H. Waitz. It
should be a matter of rejoicing among scholars that we
shall soon have a companion work for our own History
from the hands of Professor Stubbs.
SOMERLEAZE, WELLS,
September 26tk, 1873.
NOTE. With the exception of alterations in the head-lines,
rendered necessary by the change of print, this edition remains
the same as that of 1873.
FLORENCE FREEMAN.
OXFORD, 1896.
CONTENTS
LECT. PAGE
I. THE RANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES ... ... 1
II. GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON ... ... ... ... 24
III. THE STATE ... ... ... ... ... ... 49
IV. THE KING ... ... ... ... ... ... 88
V. THE ASSEMBLY 122
VI. MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES ... ... ... ... 158
REDE LECTURE. THE UNITY OF HISTORY 192
NOTES TO THE LECTURES . 221
COMPARATIVE POLITICS
THE RANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES
THE establishment of the Comparative Method of study
has been the greatest intellectual achievement of our time.
It has carried light and order into whole branches of human
knowledge which before were shrouded in darkness and con-
fusion. It has brought a line of argument which reaches
moral certainty into a region which before was given over to
random guess-work. Into matters which are for the most
part incapable of strictly external proof it has brought a
form of strictly internal proof which is more convincing,
more unerring. In one department, the first, perhaps the
greatest, to which it has been applied, the victory of the
Comparative Method may now be said to be assured. The
Science of Language has been placed on a firm basis, from
which it is impossible to believe that it can ever be dis-
lodged. Here and there we come across facts which show us
that there are two classes of men on whom its truths have
as yet been thrown away. There are men whom we cannot
exactly call scholars, far less philologers, but who often have
a purely literary knowledge of several languages, who seem
really never to have heard of the discoveries of modern
science, and who go on guessing and dogmatizing as if Com-
parative Philology had never been heard of. And there are
r
2 RANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES LECT.
others, a more hopeless but, I believe, a smaller class, who
really know what the objects and results of the scientific
method are, but who cast them away as delusion, who look
on the sure truths of science as dreams and on their own
fancies as the only realities. The former class, whom the
light has not yet reached, may possibly some day learn ; at
all events they will some day die out. The latter class, whom
the light has reached but who count the light for darkness,
will certainly never learn, and most likely they will never
die out. Such men are to be found in all branches of study.
There are those who have heard all that natural science
has to say for itself, but who still believe that the earth is
flat or that the moon does not go round on its axis. But
the numbers and importance of such men are daily lessening.
. Some years back there were men whose attainments in some
" branches of linguistic study were of real importance, but
who sneered at the scientific doctrine of the relations of
languages as the " Aryan heresy." Such men are most likely
no longer to be found. The disbelievers in Comparative
Philology, as distinguished from those who never heard of it,
seem now to be confined to that class of harmless lunatics
who put forth elaborate theories about " Man's first word,"
or who still believe that the Irish language is derived from
the Phoenician. With regard to Comparative Philology the
battle is won. No man who has any right to be listened to
on such a subject doubts that the doctrine of the relations
of language has passed out of the stage of controversies and
questions into the stage of admitted truths. There is, of
course, still room for difference of opinion as to points of
minuter detail; as to the main principle and its leading
applications there is none.
Comparative Philology then is fully established as a
science. And, as for as this country is concerned, we may
fairly say that it was on the spot where I now stand that its
claims to rank as a science were established. Other applica-
tions of the Comparative Method are later in date, and they
have not yet won the same strong and unassailable position.
COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY
One reason, of course, is that they are later in date, that
they have not had so long a time to work their way into
men's minds. But this is not the only cause why Compara-
tive Mythology and other applications of the Comparative
Method have not won the same complete acceptance from
every one qualified to judge which Comparative Philology
certainly has won. In no other case so at least it strikes
me can the application of the Comparative Method be so
clear and simple, so utterly beyond doubt or cavil, as it is in
the case of language. In the case of language the method
is self-convincing. It is hard to conceive that the doctrine
of the relations of language, if once clearly stated to a mind
of ordinary intelligence, can fail to be received at once.
When it is not so received, it can only be because of the
difficulty which we all more or less feel when we are called
on, not only to learn but to unlearn. The opposition to the
scientific treatment of language or of any other subject
always comes from teachers who find it hard to cast aside
an old method and to adopt a new. It never comes from
learners to whom all methods are alike new, and who find
the scientific method by far the easiest. That Comparative
Philology is sometimes misunderstood, even by those who
profess to accept its teaching, is shown by the fact that there
are a good number of people who believe that the great
result of the scientific study of language is to show that
Greek and English are both of them derived from Sanscrit.
But this kind of thing will die out of itself. No one who
has from the beginning been taught according to the scientific
method, and who has never heard of any other, will ever fall
into confusions of this kind. And it seems impossible that,
with any one whose mind is able to give a fair field and no
favour, Comparative Philology can fail to be accepted at
once. To many it will come, not as something new, but as
the fuller revelation of something towards which they have
been feeling their way of their own heads. Every one who
has learned any two cognate languages otherwise than as a
parrot, must have found out detached pieces of Grimm's Law
4 EANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES LECT.
for himself. When a man has got thus far, and when the
complete doctrine and its consequences are set before him,
they carry their own conviction with them. We see what
kind of words the various Aryan languages have in common,
and what kind of words each language or group of languages
has peculiar to itself. The inference as to the affinity of
those languages to one another, and as to the condition of
those who spoke them at the various stages of the great
Aryan migration, is one which it is impossible to withstand.
Comparative Philology has in truth revealed to us several
stages of the prae-historic growth of man for which we have
no recorded evidence, but which it makes far more certain
than much which professes to rest on recorded evidence. It
teaches us facts about which no external proof can be
had, but for which the internal proof, when once stated, is
absolutely irresistible.
With Comparative Mythology, on the other hand, the case
seems to be different. The mere statement of the doctrine
does not in the same way carry conviction with it. The
phenomena presented by Comparative Philology cannot
reasonably be explained in any other way than that in which
Comparative Philology professes to explain them. We find,
for instance, the word mill, or some word evidently the same,
used in the same sense in a number of different languages,
between some of which the process of borrowing from one
another is historically impossible (i). Even in the case of a
single word, it would be hard to believe that the likeness was
the result of accident. It would be hard to believe that, by
sheer chance, without any connexion of any kind with each
other, a large number of isolated nations separately made up
their minds to call a mill a mill. But when we find the same
pheenomena, not in one or two words, but in many, the
notion of accidental likeness becomes impossible. With such
facts before us, there is no withstanding the inference that
all those languages were once one language, that the nations
which speak those languages were once one nation, and that
i COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY SELF-CONVINCING 5
those nations did not part asunder till they were so far
civilized as to have found out the use of mills, and of all
other objects the names of which are common to the whole
group of languages. But when we find a legend, or several
legends, which seem to be common to several distant ages
and nations, the doctrine of a common derivation from a
common stock is not in the same way the only possible
explanation. It may be shown by argument to be the
right explanation in each particular case ; but the mere
statement of the doctrine does not of itself convince us that
it must be the right explanation in any case. The alleged
points of likeness between legend and legend will not seem
so indisputable to every mind as the identity between two
cognate words. Some minds may refuse to see the likeness
at all ; others may see the likeness, but may hold that it can
be accounted for by some other means than that of referring
both to a common source. To fall back on our former
illustration, the art of grinding corn may have been invented
over and over again by any number of independent nations.
The point on which the Comparative Philologer takes his
stand is that it is inconceivable that, in such a case, they
should all have called the instrument of grinding a mill. In
the same way some of the simple stories, the obvious
characters, the easily imagined situations, which form the
staple of the legendary lore of most nations, may have been
invented over and over again in distant times and places.
There is at least nothing obviously absurd in thinking so ;
there is no absolute need to account for the likeness by the
theory that all must have come from one common source.
Comparative Mythology begins to be really convincing only
when it can call Comparative Philology to its help. When a
name in a Greek legend cannot be reasonably explained by
the Greek language, but can be explained by the Sanscrit,
the probability that the Greek and the Indian story really
do come from the same source comes very near to moral
certainty. Yet even here there is room for difference of
opinion in a way in which there is not in the case of Philology
6 RANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES LECT.
proper. We are told, for instance, that the Charites, the
Graces, in the Greek mythology are the same as the Harits,
the horses of the Sun, in the Indian mythology. The philo-
logical connexion of the two names is beyond all doubt ; the
Greek and the Sanscrit word both obviously come from a
common root, from the primitive meaning of which both have
wandered very far indeed. But it does not seem to follow
that there must be any nearer connexion between the
Charites and the Harits than the general connexion which
exists between any two words which come from a common
root. Some minds may refuse to see any likeness between
the solar horses of the Indian legend and the graceful female
forms of the Greek legend. They may be inclined to think
that the singular Charis of the ' Iliad/ the plural Charites of
the ' Odyssey/ may be independent creations of the Greek
mind, wrought out after the separation of the Greeks and
their immediate kindred from the common family. They
may deem that Charis and the Charites are as directly
impersonations as At6 and the Litai ; they may deem that
they took their name from the noun \a-pis, in the later and
ordinary sense of the word, after that later and ordinary sense
had parted off from the original root. Such a view is at
least not obviously absurd, nor is it at all inconsistent with
the acceptance of the general doctrine of Comparative
Mythology (2). In the case of language, any particular
language may develope any number of new words from the
old roots ; it may adopt any number of new words from
foreign tongues. But the invention of a new root in any
particular language is a thing which we cannot conceive. As
to mythology the case is different. We may allow that there
is a great stock of legend common to the whole Aryan family,
or common to all mankind, and yet we may hold that many
particular legends, Hellenic, Teutonic, or any other, are due
to the independent play of fancy after Hellenes, Teutons, or
any other branch of the common stock, had become a distinct
people with a distinct language. For my own part, I firmly
believe that Comparative Mythology really has brought to
I COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY AND MYTHOLOGY 7
light a vast common stock of legend, the groundwork of
which is to be found in the physical phenomena of nature.
But I must decline to believe that the whole mythology of the
Aryan nations, as we find it in Greek and Teutonic literature,
has this origin and no other. I believe that a large part of
Greek and Teutonic mythology has its source in solar legends.
But I must decline to believe that every hero of Greek or
Teutonic legend must needs be the sun, save only that small
minority who are not the sun but the wind (3).
The difference then between Comparative Philology and
Comparative Mythology would seem to be this. Comparative
Philology is, within its own range, the absolutely universal
solvent : Comparative Mythology must be content to be only
one most important solvent among others. To admit this
implies no kind of undervaluing of the Comparative Method
as applied to mythological subjects. It is still by that
method that the mythology of any people must be tested.
That method is still the safeguard against all unscientific
treatment of the subject against running, for instance, to
Egypt, Phrenicia, or Palestine, for the explanation of
particular Greek legends. The scientific method is first to
find out what there is in the Indian, Greek, Teutonic and
other Aryan mythologies which can be fairly set down as
springing from one common stock. When this is clearly
made out, we are then in a position to determine what part
of the mythology of each people is due to independent
invention since the dispersion, what part, if any, is due to
importation from non-Aryan sources, Semitic or any other.
Besides Comparative Philology and Comparative Mytho-
logy, there is a third branch of knowledge to which the Com-
parative Method has lately been applied with much success.
In truth, as in the case of Comparative Philology itself, this
Institution has been one chief means of bringing what may
be fairly called a new science into general notice. I mean
the scientific inquiry into manners and customs, and the
grouping together of the wonderful analogies which they set
before us in times and places the most remote from one
8 RANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES LECT.
another. This is an inquiry which follows easily, and almost
necessarily, upon Comparative Philology itself. We have seen
that, by Comparative Philology alone, without any external
evidence of any kind, we can find out a great deal as to the
social, political, and religious state of the various branches of
the Aryan stock at various stages of their dispersion. We
can see that some of the most important steps in the march
of human culture were taken while the Aryan nations were
still a single people. We can see that other steps were taken
independently by different branches of the common stock,
after they had parted off from one another. Sometimes we
can go so far as to see that some invention or discovery was
made by a particular branch, after it had parted off from the
common centre, but before it had parted off again into the
particular nations which meet us in written history. The
evidence of language alone thus gives us a general notion of
the amount of advance which had been made by the Aryans
before the dispersion. It gives us also the means of tracing
in some degree the further advance made by the Eastern
and the Western Aryans after the Eastern and Western
branches had parted, but while the forefathers of Greeks,
Italians, and Teutons still kept together. We can see that
further steps were taken by the common forefathers of Greeks
and Italians, after they had parted company with the Teutons,
but before Greeks and Italians were parted asunder by the
Hadriatic. But in this line of inquiry it is to language
alone that the Comparative Method is directly applied. The
knowledge which it brings to light as to the growth of human
culture is most important in itself, and it is established by
the most certain of proofs ; still it is only an incidental result
of an inquiry which has another immediate object. But in
the third branch of inquiry of which I am speaking, the
Comparative Method is directly applied to the growth of
culture itself. The immediate object of research is no longer
language, it is no longer legend as legend ; it is the customs,
the social institutions, the religious ceremonies, of the different
nations of the earth into the nature and origin of which the
THE DOCTRINE OF SURVIVALS
inquirer is now searching. Such a research could hardly be
earned on except by one to whom the studies of Comparative
Philology and Comparative Mythology were already familiar :
linguistic science gives the inquirer help at every step ; legend-
ary lore gives him help more precious still ; but his imme-
diate object is different from either. He deals with customs
and ceremonies, even with legends as they either spring out
of or give birth to customs and ceremonies, much as his
fellow-inquirers deal with language and with legend looked
at for its own sake. He traces the religious rite, the social
or domestic order, up to its root, just as his brethren do with
words and with legends. He finds perhaps that the custom,
civil or religious, has shrunk up into a mere superstition or
prejudice, which at first sight seems purely arbitrary and
meaningless. It seems arbitrary and meaningless, just as
many a word, many a legend, whose history is full of life and
meaning to the scientific inquirer, seems arbitrary and mean-
ingless to those who stand without the gate. But, by com-
paring together the analogous customs of various, often most
remote, ages and countries, the scientific inquirer is led up to
the root ; he is led up to the original idea of which particular
customs, ceremonies, and beliefs, are but the offshoots. And
in all these cases, as the inquiry can be carried upwards, so it
can be carried downwards. Here comes in the doctrine of
Survivals (4). It is a fascinating process by which we learn
to trace out the way in which a belief, a word, a legend, we
might add a grammatical form, survives in this or that
phrase or custom, whose origin has long been forgotten, and
which, without a knowledge of that origin, seems utterly
meaningless. As the Comparative Philologer shows that
inflexions and terminations which seem to be purely arbi-
trary were once whole and living words, having as true a
meaning as the root which they now simply serve to modify
as he can trace out a long history of language and of much
beside language in the single letter, the mere Ycs'r and
Yea'm, to which a short and careless utterance has cut down
the once sounding titles of Senior and mea Domina (5) as
10 RANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES LECT.
the Comparative Mythologer groups together the utterances
of primaeval thought on the great mysteries of nature, as he
traces them on, through legends of Gods and heroes, down to
some feeble echo in the tales of the nursery or the cottage
fire-side so their fellow-worker, the votary of our third
science which yet lacks a name, traces out the embodiments
of primaeval thought in ancient rites and customs ; he follows
the ancient belief and its utterances down to some faint and
forgotten shadow lingering on in some proverbial saying, in
some familiar gesture, it may be even in some common
article of dress, in some faint relic of any of these kinds
which we see or hear or wear or practise every day of our
lives, without a thought of the primaeval source from which
it sprang, or of the long pages of history of which it is the
memorial. For this science, I say, the offspring doubtless of
the two earlier sciences, but which has fully established its
right to rank side by side with either of them, we need a
name. Let us hope that a name may be found for it, if not
what may perhaps be hopeless within the stores of our
own mother-tongue, yet at least within the range of the
foreign words which have been already coined. It would be
a pity if a line of inquiry which has brought to light so much,
and from which so much more may be looked for, should end
by cumbering the dictionary with some fresh word of new
and barbarous formation (6).
This third, as yet nameless, science follows the Comparative
Method no less strictly than it is followed by Comparative
Philology and Comparative Mythology. But it is still less
safe in this case than in the case of Comparative Mythology
to argue that every instance of likeness in times and places
far away from one another necessarily proves that they are
strictly sprung from a common source. When we find either
a legend or a custom repeated in this way in distant times
and places, we may be sure that there is a connexion between
the several instances ; but we need not infer that there is
the same kind of direct connexion which we infer when we
find the Greek, the Teuton, and the Hindoo using the same
i RELATIONS OF THE THREE SCIENCES 11
words and grammatical forms. If we find the same custom,
as we often do, at opposite ends of the earth or in ages far
away from one another, we need not infer that that custom
must have been handed down from a time when the fore-
fathers of the two nations which are found using it formed
one people. It may be so ; doubtless it often is so. But it
may also happen that the custom is in each case an inde-
pendent invention, the fruit of like circumstances leading to
like results. Or it may be that the custom, without being
itself in strictness a common possession, may be in each case
the offspring of a common idea, an idea common to all man-
kind or to some one of the great divisions of mankind. Or
again it is quite possible that a custom may have been simply
borrowed by one nation from another, either while its mean-
ing was still remembered or after it had been forgotten.
But, notwithstanding all these chances, the method employed
in this form of research, just as much as in the other two, is
strictly Comparative. The customs are dealt with in the
same way in which the words and the legends are dealt with
in the other cases. And all three forms of inquiry stand in
a close relation to one another. Comparative Mythology
could not get on at all without Comparative Philology ; and
the science of customs, ceremonies, and survivals bears on
both Philology and Mythology at every step. And the three
may be ranged in a certain order. Comparative Philology is
the purest science of the three : its evidence is the most
strictly internal ; it makes the least use of any facts beyond
its own range ; its argument is that which most distinctly
carries its own conviction with it. Comparative Mythology
does all this in a less degree ; the third nameless science does
so in a less degree still. Each depends more on facts which
do not come immediately within its own range than Com-
parative Philology does. Still all three hang together ; all
are branches of one inquiry ; all are applications of one
method, of that method the introduction of which marks the
nineteenth century, like the fifteenth, as one of the great
stages in the developement of the mind of man.
1-2 RANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES LECT.
My beginnings have thus far, I fear, been dry and abstract.
But I have been anxious to fix the exact relations between
the chief subjects to which the Comparative method of
research has as yet been applied. It was important for my
purpose to do this, as my object in this course of Lectures is
to attempt the application of the same method to another
subject. Or, to speak more accurately, I should perhaps not
so much say another subject as a special and most important
branch of that third class of subjects of which I have already
spoken. I wish that what I have to say may be looked on
as an attempt to follow in the same path as two inquirers
both of whom are well known in this place, Professor Max
Miiller and Mr. E. B. Tylor. With Mr. Tylor's subject I wish
specially to connect my own : I should indeed wish that
mine may be looked on as a part of his. But, as for the
whole, so for the part, it is not easy to find a name. My own
subject I wish to speak of as Comparative Politics ; but I feel
that that is a form of words which is not a little liable to be
misunderstood. But I may perhaps be allowed to make use of
it, after I have explained the sense which I wish the words to
bear. In the phrase of Comparative Politics I wish the word
Politics to be taken in the sense which it bears in the name
of the great work of Aristotle. By Comparative Politics I
mean the comparative study of political institutions, of forms of
government. And, under the name of Comparative Politics,
I wish to point out and bring together the many analogies
which are to be seen between the political institutions of
times and countries most remote from one another. In this
sense my subject is the more minute treatment of a part of
Mr. Tylor's subject, namely those customs, ceremonies,
formulae, and the like, which have to do with the political
institutions of different ages and nations. The analogies
which may be marked between the most remote ages and
countries as to their forms of government, their political
divisions, the partition of power among different bodies
or magistrates, are far more and far more striking than would
come into any one's mind who has not given special attention
I POINTS OF LIKENESS AND UNLIKENESS 13
to the inquiry. In some cases the likeness is seen at the first
glance ; in others it lies perhaps somewhat below the surface :
but it needs only a little thought, backed by a little practice
in researches of the kind, in order easily to see the real
likeness which often lurks under superficial unlikeness. As
in Comparative Philology a small amount of practice teaches
the learner to mark connexions between words at which the
unlearned are certain to mock, so it is with this study also.
The most profitable analogies, the most striking cases of
direct derivation, are not those which are most obvious at
first sight.
But another warning must be given. In tracing out an
analogy or parallel of any kind, points of unlikeness are as
carefully to be studied as points of likeness ; it is in truth
the points of superficial unlikeness which often give us the
surest proofs of essential likeness. When we stop to com-
pare, when we mark this and that point of difference in
detail, it is the surest proof of a real likeness between the
two things which we are comparing. When we stop to
comment on the small differences between one human face
and another, it is because we recognize all alike as human
faces, because we see in all of them that essential likeness
which alone enables us to see the points of unlikeness. So it
is with the subject of our present inquiry. We are concerned
with the essential likeness of institutions, and we must never
allow incidental points of unlikeness to keep us from seeing
that essential likeness. And this caution is the more needed,
because points of likeness and unlikeness which, in their
practical results, in their bearings on later history, are of the
very first importance, may, in our way of looking at the
matter, be purely incidental. I w*ill illustrate my meaning
by an example. The English Parliament consists of two
Houses : the Assemblies of most other mediaeval European
states consisted of three or more. The practical importance
of this difference has been almost boundless in its effects
both on the history of England and on the history of the
many kingdoms and commonwealths which have copied the
14 RANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES LECT.
political institutions of England. The peculiar relation of
the two Houses of Parliament to one another depends on
there being two Houses and not more. The whole doctrine
of two branches in a legislature, the bicameral system as it is
called, the endless attempts, successful and unsuccessful, to
set up artificially in other lands what has come to us ready-
made through the facts of our history, all go on the principle
that there shall be two Houses and no more. Now, if we
look to the history of our own constitution, we shall find that
this particular number of two, as the number of the Houses
of our Parliament, is not owing to any conviction that two
Houses would work better than either one or three, but was
a matter of sheer accident. The Estates of the Realm are,
in England no less than elsewhere, three Nobles, Clergy,
and Commons (7). In France, we all know, the Clergy
remained a distinct member of the States-General as long as
the States-General lasted. In England the Clergy could
never be got permanently to act as a regular parliamentary
Estate (8). The causes of this difference belong to the
particular history of England ; the effects of it are that the
Parliament of England remained a Parliament of two Houses
only, and that a crowd of constitutions, European and
American, have followed the English model. The accident
then has, in its consequences, been one of the great facts of
later political history ; but, in our point of view, it is a mere
accident with which we are in no way concerned. How
these Estates grew up in nearly every European country is
essentially a part of our Comparative inquiry; how it
happened that, in one particular country, one of these
Estates failed to keep its distinct political being is a matter
of ordinary constitutional history. Still less have we anything
to do with the questions whether the effect of the accident,
that is the particular form of the English Parliament, has
been good or bad, or whether the attempts to reproduce the
same model in other countries have been wise or foolish.
For our present purpose we must throw ourselves into a
state of mind to which political constitutions seem as
I TEANSPLANTATION OF INSTITUTIONS 15
absolutely colourless as grammatical forms, a state of
mind to which the change from monarchy to democracy or
from democracy to monarchy seems as little a matter of
moral praise or blame as the process by which the Latin
language changed into the French or the process by which
the High-German parted off from the Low.
For the purposes then of the study of Comparative Politics,
a political constitution is a specimen to be studied, classified,
and labelled, as a building or an animal is studied, classified,
and labelled by those to whom buildings or animals are
objects of study. We have to note the likenesses, striking
and unexpected as those likenesses often are, between the
political constitutions of remote times and places; and we
have, as far as we can, to classify our specimens according to
the probable causes of those likenesses. For, though the
genuine Comparative Method may be as strictly applied to
this inquiry as to any of the others, yet in this inquiry it is
further off than in any of the others from being the one
universal solvent. It is still less safe than in the case
of Comparative Mythology to infer that every case of likeness
between two political institutions is necessarily to be
explained by supposing that both of the two are vestiges of
one common stock. There are at least three causes to which
likenesses of this kind may be owing, and we must consider
to which of the three any particular case of likeness ought to
be referred. And, as always happens in such cases, the three
classes which we may thus form will be found to some extent
to run into one another, and there will be cases about which
it may be matter of doubt to which of our classes we ought to
refer them.
Thus the likeness between any two institutions, identity
of name, identity of nature, or any other point of likeness,
may be the result of direct transmission from one to another.
And this transmission may take several forms. It may be in
the strictest sense a direct handing on from one state of
things to another : or it may be simple imitation, in all the
16 EANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES LECT.
various shades which simple imitation may take. Thus it
constantly happens that the institutions of a ruling city
or country will appear again in its dependencies. They
are adopted by or forced upon its subject provinces ;
they are reproduced as a matter of course in the colonies
Avhich it plants with its own citizens. Take, for instance,
what so long was the greatest dependency of England, a
conquered province if we look to one class of its inhabitants,
a colonial settlement if we look to another class, the so long
separate but dependent kingdom of Ireland. In Ireland, as
an English colony, the whole machinery of English Govern-
ment, central and local, was reproduced as a matter of course.
The Houses of Parliament, the Courts of Law and their
Judges, the Ecclesiastical establishment in all its branches,
the local administration under Lords Lieutenant, Sheriffs,
Justices of the Peace, and the like, were all simply, as a
matter of course, modelled according to the English pattern.
Some differences may be found : thus the functions of an
Irish Grand Jury are not exactly the same as those of the
English body of the same name. But differences of this
kind, mere matters of the minutest detail which have grown
up in comparatively recent times, in no way affect the
general reproduction of the institutions of the mother country
in the colony. The English carried their whole system into
Ireland ; so did the Crusaders carry their whole system into
their conquests in the East : the most perfect system of feudal
law is to be found in the Assizes of the Christian Kingdom
of Jerusalem (9). These cases, which are the types of countless
others, are cases of direct handing on of names and institu-
tions from one country to another. It is a process which can
hardly be called imitation ; it is not so much the framing of
something after the model of something else ; it is rather the
actual translation of the thing itself to another soil. There
was most likely no thought about the matter : men who
settled in a new land carried with them their own institu-
tions and the names of those institutions as a matter of
course. Cases of imitation properly so called are something
i DIRECT IMITATION 17
different. In them men, after thought and debate, choose
one model to follow, when they might have chosen another.
The imitative work, however closely it may reproduce the
likeness of the original, is not the original : it is not even
the transplanted original ; it is something which has a
distinct being and which starts from a beginning of its own.
Such are the cases which I have already spoken of, in which
the constitution of the English Parliament, a constitution
which in England came about as the mere result of circum-
stances, has been deliberately imitated in other countries.
Most of the legislative Assemblies of Europe have followed the
English model more or less closely. But the reproduction of
English forms in this way is quite another process from their
reproduction in Ireland. The difference may be likened to
the difference between the real kindred which springs from
natural parentage and the artificial kindred which springs from
the legal fiction of adoption. And again, wide differences may
be marked between different cases of simple imitation. Let
me take an instance from the mere use of a borrowed name.
There is a Capitol at Washington and there is a Capitol
at Toulouse. In both cases alike the name is used in mere
imitation of the Capitol at Rome. I say mere imitation,
because it is hardly likely that, even at Toulouse, the name
Capitolium and the magistracy of the Octoviri Capitolini were
strictly handed on by direct transmission from Roman days
(10). Yet we feel that the name Capitol is in its place at
Toulouse in a way in which it is not in its place at
Washington. In the second birth of municipal freedom
it was natural that the citizens of Toulouse, cleaving to the
memories of Rome, her laws and her language, should give to
their institutions names borrowed from the old stock. At
Washington the name of Capitol was mere imitation, it was
the mere calling up of a name which had been dead for ages
and with which those who made the new use of it had
no direct connexion of any kind. At Toulouse, though I
believe the use of the name to be imitation and not direct
transmission, yet it is imitation of a kind which differs as little
18 EANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES LECT.
as may be from direct transmission. So again, to take
another illustration from the same region, the city of Alby
kept its Consuls down to the great French Revolution (n),
and, before many years had passed from that Revolution,
Consuls were ruling, not only over Alby but over all France.
Both, no doubt, were cases of imitation, yet we feel that for
the commonwealth of Alby to give to its magistrates the
name of Consuls, in days when the memory of the Roman con-
sulship was still a living thing, was something different from
that mere dead imitation of times and things which had
utterly passed away which gave the name of Consuls to the
elder Buonaparte and his colleagues. We may thus dis-
tinguish imitation from direct transmission, and we may see
wide differences between different cases of imitation. But,
in the whole class with which we are dealing, the names and
institutions of one time and place are consciously transferred
to some other time and place. A thing which already exists
is moved from an old home to a new one ; the thing is done
openly ; there is no mystery about it ; the process needs not
to be searched out by inference or analogy ; it takes its place
among the facts of recorded history. The political institutions
of one people have been handed on to another people, or they
have been purposely imitated by another people. We find
analogous cases within the range of the other kindred
sciences. Religious beliefs and sacred legends have been
spread in the same way. The creed of a conquering people
has been spread over its subjects and neighbours, or a people
have of their own free will adopted a creed which arose in
some distant age and country. Christianity and Islam alike
have been spread in both of these ways, by the swords of
conquerors as well as by the preaching of missionaries. Open
and undoubted connexions of this kind between the religious
beliefs of different nations have nothing in common with
those subtler connexions which are revealed to us by
Comparative Mythology. So too with language itself: a
conquered or neighbouring people adopts the language of a
more powerful people. Thus the tongues of Greece, Rome,
i LIKE RESULTS FROM LIKE CAUSES 19
Persia, and Arabia, to say nothing of the tongues of modern
Europe, have been spread over vast regions, whose nations
have adopted the speech of their conquerors or civilizers.
Or again, a people, without necessity or compulsion, may
adopt, if not the whole language, yet a large part of the
vocabulary, of another nation, just as they may adopt the
whole or part of its institutions. In this way the purity of
our own tongue has given way to a jargon drawn from every
quarter of the world, and even our High-Dutch kinsfolk
seem to be too ready to follow us in the same evil path (12).
Processes like these, which have their place among the
recorded facts of history, stand distinct from the no less
certain though unrecorded facts which are taught us by
Comparative research.
It is for the most part not very hard to know when a case
of likeness between political institutions ought to be referred
to this first class. The connexion in such cases is for the
most part a matter of recorded history or of immediate
inference from recorded history. With regard to our second
and third classes our course is not so clear : we no longer
have recorded history to help us, and it may often be a
question to which of the two classes any particular instance
belongs. When we find a likeness between the institutions
of any two nations, which likeness we cannot reasonably
attribute to conscious transmission or imitation during
historical times, there are two possible ways in which the
likeness may be explained. It may well be that there is no
direct connexion whatever, conscious or unconscious, between
the two. The likeness may be real and beyond doubt, but
there may be no reason to believe either that one people has
borrowed from the other, or that both have inherited from a
common source. The cause of the likeness may simply be
that like causes have, at however great a distance of time
and place, led to like results. The institutions of a people
are the natural growth of the circumstances under which it
finds itself; if two nations, however far removed they may
be from one another both in time and in place, find them-
20 EANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES LECT.
selves under like circumstances, the chances are that the
effect of this likeness of circumstances will show itself in the
likeness of their institutions. The same evils will suggest
the same remedies ; the same needs will suggest the same
means of supplying them. There can be little doubt that
many of the most essential inventions of civilized life have
been invented over and over again in distant times and
countries, as different nations have reached those particular
points of social advancement when those inventions were
first needed. Thus printing has been independently invented
in China and in mediaeval Europe ; and it is well known
that a process essentially the same was in use for various
purposes in ancient Rome, though no one took the great step
of applying to the reproduction of books the process which
was familiarly used for various meaner purposes (13). What
happened with printing we may believe also to have
happened with writing, and we may take another illustration
from an art of quite another kind. There can be no doubt,
from comparing the remains of the earliest buildings in
Egypt, Greece, Italy, the British Islands, and the ruined
cities of Central America, that the great inventions of the
arch and the dome have been made more than once in the
history of human art. And moreover, much as in the case
of printing, we can see in many places strivings after them,
and near approaches made to them, which still never reached
complete success (14). Nor need we doubt that many of the
simplest and most essential arts of civilized life, the use of
the mill, the use of the bow, the taming of the horse, the
hollowing out of the canoe, have been found out over and
over again in distant times and places. It is only when we
find the unmistakeable witness of language, or some other
sign of historical connexion, that we have any right to infer
that the common possession of inventions of this kind is any
sign of common derivation from one primitive source. So it
is with political institutions also. The same institutions
constantly appear very far from one another, simply because
the circumstances which called for them have arisen in
i UNCONSCIOUS REPRODUCTION OF INSTITUTIONS 21
times and places very far from one another. The whole
system of historical analogies rests on this doctrine. We
see the same political phenomena repeating themselves over
and over again in various times and places, not because of
any borrowing or imitation, conscious or unconscious, but
because the like circumstances have led to the like results.
To master analogies of this kind, to grasp the laws which
regulate the essential likeness and not to be led away by
points either of likeness or unlikeness which are merely
incidental, is the true philosophy of history. Of the way in
which political circumstances and institutions repeat them-
selves, where no kind of borrowing or imitation can be
thought of, many instances will occur to any one who thinks
at all upon the matter. Let me take a most striking case
from very modern history. It is shown beyond doubt in the
writings of the founders of the Constitution of the United
States that they had no knowledge of the real nature of the
Federal Constitution of the Achaian League (15). But two
sets of commonwealths, widely removed from one another in
time and place, found themselves in circumstances essentially
the same. The later Federal union was therefore cast in a
shape which in several points presents a likeness to the elder
one, a likeness which is all the more striking and instructive
because it was most certainly undesigned. Washington and
Hamilton had very faint notions that they were doing the
same work which had been done twenty ages before them by
Markos of Keryneia and Aratos of Sikyon ; but they did the
work all the same. But, on the other hand, the Federal
Constitution of Switzerland is a conscious reproduction of
the Federal Constitution of America, with such changes as
were called for by the different circumstances of the two
commonwealths (16). A better illustration can hardly be
found of the difference between likenesses which are owing
to direct transmission or imitation and likenesses which are
simply owing to the law that like causes produce like
effects.
We have thus seen that class of likenesses which come of
22 RANGE OF THE COMPARATIVE SCIENCES LECT.
direct and conscious reproduction or imitation, and we have
seen the class where the likeness is simply the natural result
of like circumstances. But beyond these two lies the third
class, the class which forms the more immediate subject of
our inquiry, the class of likenesses where there is, on the one
hand, no reproduction, no imitation, but where, on the other
hand, the connexion is something closer than that of mere
analogy. These are the cases where there is every reason to
believe that the likeness really is owing to derivation from a
common source. Where nations have been wholly cut off
from one another during the historic times, and where there
is no affinity of language to make us believe that they are
scattered colonies of a common stock, this explanation is not
to be thought of. But when we see nations which have
been, during the historic times, more or less widely parted
off from one another, but which are proved by the evidence
of language really to be such colonies of a common stock
when, among nations like these, we find in their political
institutions the same kind of likenesses which we find in
their languages and their mythology the obvious inference
is that the likeness in all these cases is due to the same
cause. That is to say, the obvious inference is that there
was a time when these now parted nations formed one
nation, and that, before they parted asunder, the common
forefathers of both had made certain advances in political
life, had developed certain common political institutions,
traces or developements of which are still to be seen in the
political institutions of the now isolated nations. At the
time of the dispersion each band of settlers took with it a
common tongue, a common mythology, a common store of
the arts of social life. So it also took with it certain
principles and traditions of political life, principles and
traditions common to the whole family, but which grew up,
in the several new homes of the scattered nations, into
settled political constitutions, each of which has character-
istic features of its own, but all of which keep enough of
likeness to show that they are all offshoots from one common
i THE THREE CHIEF ARYAN NATIONS 23
;stock. To trace out likenesses of this kind, to distinguish
those likenesses which really mark the offshoots of a common
stock from those which are better referred to either of the
other classes which I have distinguished, is the object of the
inquiry which I have ventured to call Comparative Politics.
Having thus, in this Introductory Lecture, tried to establish
the possibility of such an inquiry, its proper objects and its
proper limits, I wish to go on, in the lectures which are to
follow, to illustrate the subject in some detail from those
political institutions which were common to the races which
hold the highest place in the history of mankind. My
matter hitherto has perhaps been uninviting : it has certainly
been of a kind which carries with it a certain strain on the
mind, and which does not allow of any lively treatment.
The matter which I have in store for the rest of the course
will, I trust, be found of a more attractive kind ; and I shall
hope that those who have followed me thus far will not
refuse to follow me in tracing out the signs of original unity
which are to be found in the primitive institutions of the
Aryan nations, above all, in the three most illustrious
branches of the common stock the Greek, the Roman, and
the Teuton.
24 GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON LECT.
II
GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON
WE are now fairly embarked on our subject. We are
now in a position to trace out all that the Comparative
method of inquiry has to tell us of the earliest political state
of that branch of mankind to which we ourselves belong.
We are now ready to stand face to face with our own
immediate forefathers and kinsmen. And, along with them,
we are ready to look, with fresh interest and reverence, on
those other branches of the common stock kinsmen them-
selves, though kinsmen less nearly allied who went before
our own race in holding the first place among the nations
of the earth. In the pages of history truly so called in
the records which set man before us in his highest form
the records which do not simply burthen the memory with
the names of barbarian Kings, but which teach the mind
and the heart by the deeds and words of the heroes of our
common nature the records which set before us, not the
physical bigness of Eastern kingdoms but the moral greatness
of Western commonwealths in that long history of civilized
man which stretches on in one unbroken tale from the union
of the towns of Attica to the last measure of progress in
England or in Germany in this long procession of deeds
wrought long ago but whose effects still abide among us, of
men whose very memories have often been forgotten, but
whose works still live in lands which they never heard of-
in this mighty drama of European and Aryan history, three
ii PROMINENCE OF THE THREE RACES 25
lands, three races, stand forth before all others, as those to
whom, each in its own day, the mission has been given to
be the rulers and the teachers of the world. The names of
those three races were the last words of my first lecture, and
the political institutions of those three races, and the relations
of those institutions to one another, will be the main subject
of my whole course. Their history has ever been the main
subject of my own studies ; their history I may reasonably
suppose to be better known than any other to most of my
hearers in this or in any other audience. As the Ayran
family of nations, as a whole, stands out above the other
families of the world, so the Greek, the Roman, and the
Teuton, each in his own turn, stands out above the other
nations of the Aryan family. Each in his turn has reached
the highest stage alike of power and civilization that was to
be had in his own age, and each has handed on his own
store to be further enriched by successors who were at once
conquerors and disciples. We get our glimpses of all three
in times when the light of authentic history is but beginning
feebly to struggle through the mists of legend. Yet, even
in those earliest glimpses, we see a people who have already
risen far above the state of savages, a people who already
enjoy the most essential inventions of civilized being, who
have already grasped the first principles of domestic and
religious life, who have already taken the first steps in the
growth of social order, of military discipline, and of civil
government. Our first glimpses of history, in its highest
and truest sense, show us the land which is at once the
border-land of Europe and Asia and the most European of
all European lands the land which, above all others, is the
land of hills and valleys, of islands and peninsulas, of harbours
and inland seas the land fonned by the hand of Nature to
be the home of those countless independent commonwealths
which were the earliest and the mast brilliant, if not the
most lasting, of all the forms of man's political life (i).
There, in the mother-land of Hellas, the native land of art
and song and wisdom, and more glorious still as the native
26 GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON LECT.
land of law and freedom, we see the Aryan man in the first
form in which European history or legend shows him, already
possessed of all the needful arts of life, already gathered into
organized civil communities, already taught to obey the
voice of the elders of his people ; but already knowing how,
by the shout of applause or by yet more emphatic silence,
to teach the elders of his people what the will of the people
itself deems good. He has already Kings, but he has also
already Assemblies ; he has already courts where the man
who has suffered wrong may come and seek for right at the
judges' hand. Out of the common stock of the common
race he has already brought to perfection the noblest forms
of the common speech and of the common store of legend ;
he speaks the tongue of Homer, and bows before the Gods
of whom Homer sang. We see him, in these his earliest
days, brought face to face alike with kindred tribes and with
the worthiest rival of any alien stock ; we see him spreading
the name and arts of Hellas over all the ^Egaean and Ionian
coasts (2) ; here winning island after island from the grasp
of the men of Tyre and Sidon (3) ; here raising his laggard
kinsmen of Asia, of Sicily, and of Epeiros, to the level of
the brethren who had so far outstripped them in the race (4).
We see him, as time rolls on, planting his colonies, each
colony a centre of civilized life and political freedom, on all
the coasts from the Iberian to the Tauric peninsula (5).
We see him in his own land rearing to the service of the
Gods or of the State the first buildings, the first painted
and sculptured forms, that really deserved the name of art (6).
We see him bring to perfection, as in a moment, the living
strains of the tragic and the comic muse, and we see him
hand down to all who shall come after him the first-fruits of
man's political wisdom, the great possession for all time (7).
Another act of the drama shows us that a day so bright as
this was in truth a day too bright to last ; we see the
political independence of the nation, both in its own land
and in its plantations on foreign shores, die out step by step
till its very name has passed away. But it shows us too
ii HISTORICAL POSITION OF ROME 27
how, in the well-known phrase, the captive land led captive
her conquerors; how the Macedonian who dealt the first
blow to her political freedom became the armed apostle of
her culture; how he carried her tongue, her art, and her
wisdom into lands which the colonists of her days of freedom
had never reached (8). And, yet more, we see how the
power which was to take her place in the world's annals
became her scholar in the act of becoming her conqueror
how, under the Roman sway, Greek became more than
ever the common speech of civilized man how at last the
throne of Rome was fixed in a Grecian city how Greek and
Roman came to be words of the same meaning (9) how the
Greek speech and the Greek creed kept its hold on one half
of the divided Empire and how, even under the sway
of the Barbarian, that speech and creed have lived on to
our own day.
From Greece we change the scene to Italy. Of the three
great peninsular lands of Southern Europe, the central one,
as compared with the group of islands and promontories to
the east of it, forms a solid and compact land, which nature
seems to have marked out for a single dominion. And,
placed in the midst of that great inland sea whose shores
formed the whole civilized world of early times, no other
land seems so clearly marked out as the destined home of
universal Empire. And so it was : a single city of central
Italy made its way, step by step, to the dominion of Italy,
and from the dominion of Italy to the dominion of the
Mediterranean world. Step by step, the ruling city called
in her allies and subjects to share in her own citizenship.
A day at last came when York and Antioch not only obeyed
a single ruler, but were as truly formed into a single state as
were the village of Romulus and the village of Tatius in the
first days of Roman legend (10). Greece had won the
intellectual dominion of the world by her arts and her
philosophy. Rome won the political dominion of the world
by her arms, and kept her hold of it by her abiding Law.
For the song of Homer and the lore of Aristotle -she had the
2S GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON LECT.
sword of Sulla and Caesar, the dooms of Servius and Justinian.
Her tongue and her law she has handed on to every later
age, and with them she handed on another gift, not, like
them, her own by birth, but which she had made no less her
own by adoption. The old creeds which had grown and
stiffened out of the traditions which were the common
heritage of the whole Aryan folk gave way to a creed which
arose in a distant corner of Rome's dominion, among a
despised people of alien blood and speech. If the Aryan
world of Europe has learned its arts and its law from its own
elder brethren, it is from the Semitic stranger that it has
learned its faith. But before a Semitic faith could become
the faith of Rome and of Europe, its dogmas had to be
defined by the subtlety of Grecian intellect, the constitution
of its organized society had to be wrought into shape by the
undying genius of Roman rule. This Semitic faith, banished
from its Semitic home, became the badge of Rome's
dominion : the sway of Christ and Caesar became words of
the same meaning ( 1 1 ). It was with a true feeling of the
doom which was in store for her, that the men of those ages
which a shallow view of history looks on as the ages of
Rome's decline dared to give the name of Eternal to the
city which was then in the childhood of her second life,
preparing for a new and mightier dominion over the minds
of men (12). Eternal indeed Rome has shown herself in
her tongue, in her laws, and in the borrowed faith which,
by her own law of adoption, she made her own. But she
became eternal by still working out the same law which had
been the law of her greatness from her earliest days. Rome
became mistress of the world by doing what Athens and
Sparta and Carthage had never done, by gathering those
whom she had conquered into her own bosom. And she has
remained the mistress of the world, because she knew how
to carry on the same law in what seemed to be the days of
her overthrow and bondage. The spell which she once threw
over those whom she conquered she now knew how to
throw over those who conquered her : she won the Goth to
ii ENGLISH CONSTITUTION PURELY TEUTONIC 29
restore her material fabrics (13), and the Frank to restore
her political dominion. The local Rome has fallen from her
high estate, but she is the Eternal City none the less.
Wherever men speak her tongue, wherever men revere her
law, wherever men profess the faith which Europe and
European colonies have learned of her, there Rome is still.
We have now come to the third race, to the race of which
we ourselves are members, to the predominance of the
Teutonic nations, alike on either side of the German Ocean
and on either side of the Atlantic. Of that race we may, for
the purposes of the present inquiry, boast ourselves as the
truest representatives. The boast may be a startling one,
but, for the purposes of the present inquiry, it is a true one.
In purity of language indeed, our tongue, with the strong
Romance infusion which has crept into its vocabulary, cannot
compare for a moment with the speech either of our High-
German or of our Scandinavian kinsfolk. And, if we would
see the ancient Teutonic institutions still abiding in their
ancient form, it is not in the Teutonic island but on the
Teutonic mainland that we must seek for them. But those
well-nigh unchanged relics of the earliest times linger on
only in a few Alpine valleys. The Landesgemeinden of Uri
and Unterwalden are the truest representatives on earth
alike of the Germans of Tacitus and of the Achaians of
Homer ; but they are the Assemblies only of districts, not
of nations, hardly even of tribes (14). Among the great
nations of modern Europe, our own is, beyond all doubt, the
one which can claim for its political institutions the most
unbroken descent from the primitive Teutonic stock. The
very fact which for so many ages gave Germany the highest
place among nations at the same time cut her off from all
claim to be the truest representative of the oldest Teutonic
days. The Teutonic Kingdom, whose King was also Roman
Emperor, was the foremost example of that fusion which has
marie the modern world ; it was the foremost example alike
of Roman influence on the Teuton and of Teutonic influence
on the Roman. But, for that very reason, it could not be
30 GREEK, MOHAN, AND TEUTON LECT.
the foremost example of a state whose modern institutions
have grown of themselves, step by step, out of the oldest
institutions of the common stock. The Scandinavian nations
have been even more out of the way of direct Roman
influences than ourselves ; still they too cannot lay claim to
the same unbroken political descent. All honour, all success,
to the new-born freedom of those three noble realms ; still
it is but a new-born freedom, a freedom which has come into
being within the memory of living men, a freedom whose
foundations could be laid only by sweeping away the
encroachments of despotism and oligarchy (15). But, widely
as our present constitution differs from the rude traditions
and customs of the followers of Hengest and Cerdic, there
still is no break between them : all is growth within the
same body ; there has never been any moment when the old
was swept away and the new was put in its stead. Alone
among the political assemblies of the greater states of Europe,
the Parliament of England can trace its unbroken descent
from the Teutonic institutions of the earliest times (16).
There is absolutely no gap between the meeting of the
Witan of Wessex which confirmed the laws of Alfred (17),
or that far earlier meeting which changed Cerdic from an
Ealdorman into a King (18), and the meeting of the Great
Council of the Nation which will come together in a few
days within the precincts of the home of the Confessor.
There are many points in which other lands have kept far
greater traces in detail of ancient institutions than we have
done ; but no other nation, as a nation, can show the same
unbroken continuity of political being. In this way we may
claim to have preserved more faithfully than any of our
kinsfolk the common heritage of our common fathers.
This boast we may truly make ; but the very causes which
enable us to make it shut us out from any claim to represent
the general march of the Teutonic element in European
affairs. Britain, like Scandinavia, was a world of its own
(19) : it was not, like the rest of Western Europe, a Roman
land overrun by Teutonic settlers who grew as it were from
ii FUSION OF EOMAN AND TEUTONIC ELEMENTS 31
colonists into conquerors. It is a land which had ceased to
be Roman before its Teutonic conquerors set foot in it.
Hence we have no true Roman element in us ; we have
nothing which has lived on uninterruptedly from the days
when Severus and Constantine reigned at York, and when
London had for a moment changed its name for that of the
Roman Augusta (20). Whatever Roman element we have in
us we owe, not to direct transmission from the elder Empire,
but to our conversion by Roman missionaries, to our conquest
at once by Romance-speaking warriors and by Romance-
speaking lawyers, to the spirit of imitation which decked the
lords of the island world with titles borrowed from the
Caesars of the mainland (21). In the three homes of our
folk, in the oldest England by the Eider and the Slei, in the
newer England which we made for ourselves in the island
world of Britain, in that newest England of all which is
spread over the islands and continents of the Ocean, we have
of a truth had our mission, but it has been a mission apart
from the mission of our kinsfolk in the general course of
European history. On the European mainland the Teutonic
conquerors of Rome appear, like the Roman conquerors of
Greece, in a character made up of that of conquerors and of
disciples. The process was indeed different in the two cases.
No Roman ever forgot the name or the speech of Rome, or
merged his national being in that of his Greek subjects.
But the Teutonic conquerors of the Roman provinces were
proud to continue her dominion in their own persons ; they
were proud to bear the titles of her ancient rule, and step by
step to adopt her speech and to forget the land and the race
from which they sprang. Never were the three races which
have been foremost in European history brought more closely
together never did the magic power of Rome stand forth
more clearly never did she show herself more proudly as
the historic centre, binding together the times before her
and the times after her than in the days when Greek and
German, Byzantion and Aachen, disputed the heritage and
the titles of the dominion which the local Rome had lost,
32 GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON LECT.
but which was Roman still, into whatever hands it fell (22).
Out of the union of Roman and Teutonic elements arose the
modern world of Europe. The other races of Europe play
but a secondary or a hidden part alongside of them. In
Eastern Europe the Slave has played over again, with less
brilliancy, the same part which the Teuton played in the
West : he too has been half conqueror, half disciple. Bul-
garia, Servia, Russia, are to the Eastern Empire and the
Eastern Church what the kingdoms of Western Europe are
to the Western Empire and the Western Church. The day
of greatness of the Slavonic nations is perhaps yet to come.
Their early advance was checked, and their progress was
thrown back for ages, by a crowd of the most opposite
enemies (23); and their revival in later times has placed
them high among the rulers of the world, but has hardly
placed them among its enlighteners. The other great
European race, the race which came before the Teuton as
the Slave came after him, the great Celtic race which formed
the vanguard of the Aryan march to the West, still lives,
still flourishes, still plays a foremost part in the history of
the world ; but he plays that part under a borrowed guise.
The Celt in his own person, speaking his own tongue, lingers
only in corners here and there, one degree only more visible
than the Iberian whom he dislodged. To fit himself to play
a foremost part in the history of Europe, the Celt has had to
borrow the garb of two successive conquerors. The Celt of
Gaul has wrought many a brilliant page in the history of
Europe ; but he has wrought it only as one who has taken
to himself the name of a German tribe, and who speaks one
of the many dialects of the undying tongue of Rome.
Thus much written history would teach us, that these
three races, the Greek, the Roman, the Teuton, have played,
each in his own day, the foremost part in European history,
foremost alike in the arts of war and peace, foremost in
literature and philosophy, foremost in the twofold rule over
the bodies and the souls of men. But written history by
li ORIGINAL KIN DEED OF THE THREE RACES 33
itself could never have told us in what relation those three
races stood to one another. That there was something in
common between the men of the two great peninsulas, that
Greece and Italy were not foreign to one another in the way
in which Egypt and Carthage were foreign, could not but
force itself on men's minds. But for ages there were no
better means of explaining their undoubted likeness than by
dreams of primaeval and heroic colonists passing from the
Eastern peninsula to the Western. Herakles, Evandros,
Odysseus, passed from Greece to leave their mark on Italy,
and the Sabine Numa learned of the Samian Pythagoras the
sacred lore with which his infant city was to worship the
common Gods of Greece and Italy (24). But that Greece
and Italy had aught in common with the Goth, the Frank,
and the Saxon, perhaps never came into men's minds, unless
indeed we may see some shadows of the great truth in those
wild tales which spoke of Herakles and Odysseus as leaving
traces of their presence by the banks of the Rhine and the
Danube, as well as by those of the Tiber and the Arno (25).
It is to the Comparative method of research that we owe that
greatest discovery of modern science which puts all these
facts in their true order and their true relation to each other.
From that method we have learned that the three ruling
races were but tribes of one greater race, branches of one
common stock, detachments of one vast army, some of which
reached their destined quarters earlier than their comrades.
We see and know the relation in which the three ruling
races stand to each other ; we see also the relation in which
they stand to other members of the great family whose place
in the world's history has been less brilliant. It may be
that the Celt came too soon, that the Slave came too late, to
have any direct share in the work of their brethren; but
they are brethren none the less. We can now see the great
family in its primaeval home, already risen far above the
state of savages, furnished already with the ruling thoughts
and the main inventions of civilized life. We see men
among whom the family life, the social life, has already taken
34 GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON LECT.
the first and greatest steps, who have already developed the
great conceptions of government and religion, who have
already learned to build let us rather say to timber houses,
to ear the ground, to tame the horse and the hound as their
helpers in warfare, either with men of other stocks or with
the wild deer of their own woods and wastes, with the bull
whose horns have been taught to sound the song of freedom,
with the lion whose backward path modern science has
mapped out from the caves of Mendip to the Kanks of the
Strymon (26). We see the many kindred streams flow off
from the common source ; one branch has already passed off
into the far East, again to meet in far-off ages with their
severed brethren, to give worthy foes to Miltiades and
Alexander, to Julian and Heraclius (27), and to give foes,
subjects, teachers, and learners, to the founders and rulers of
our own realm in the far-off Aryan land. They passed to
the land of morning ; others took another line of march, as
if to follow the great light whose daily course held so deep a
sway over their thoughts to his home or his tomb beyond
the stream of Ocean (28). And in that great company
marched together, not yet parted off into people, nations, and
languages, the forefathers of Camillus and of Brennus, of
Caesar and of Vercingetorix. There marched, as yet brethren
of one house and speech, the forefathers of Theseus and
Achilleus, the forefathers of Theodoric and Charles, the
forefathers of Hengest and Cerdic. And there, carrying as
it were the brightest destinies of the world within them,
marched the men of whose stock should come the great
champions of right and freedom, the forefathers, as yet one
in speech and brotherhood, of Kleisthenes the son of Mega-
kles, of Caius Licinius, and of Simon of Moiitfort. But
after a while they part company. One band leads the van
of the westward march, to bear the brunt of the strife
against the older tenants of the land, themselves as it were
to take their place, to live on in distant islands and penin-
sulas as isolated fragments of a once wide-spread and
unbroken people (29). While the Celtic vanguard presses
ii DISPERSION OF ARYAN TRIBES IN EUROPE 35
to the Ocean, two other swarms press towards the shores of
the two great inland seas to whose presence it is owing that
Europe has not been as Africa, or even as Asia. The
Northern swarm lags behind for a while, husbanding its
strength for the days when its scattered tribes should gather
themselves into the nations of Germany, of Scandinavia, and
of England for the days when offshoots from those main
stems should grow into the commonwealths which have
guarded the source and the mouth of the great Teutonic
stream (30), which have planted a root of freedom even on
the dreary shores of Iceland, and which have called into
being the mightiest commonwealth of all in the new English
land beyond the Ocean. But our own day was not to come
till our kinsmen who pressed on, as it might then seem, with
a happier lot, to the brighter shores of the southern sea had
done their work and had made the way ready for us.
Leaving the common centre as an united band but parting off
into two companies at the head of the great Hadriatic Gulf,
the forefathers of the Hellenes and the forefathers of the
Italians spread themselves over the two peninsular lands
where the written history of Aryan man was to begin. They
played their part, each branch in its turn; the Western
branch entered into the heritage of the Eastern, till the time
came when our own race was to enter upon the heritage of
both, to become the direct inheritors of Rome, and, through
Rome, the indirect inheritors of Greece.
These then are the three great historic races, the races
which have played the foremost part among mankind, the
races whose history really makes up the political history of
man. But striking and instructive as the history of each
of them is in itself, it becomes more striking and instructive
still when we look on those three races as brethren of one
common stock, parted kinsmen who shared a common
heritage which they knew not of. And there are moments
in the history of the world when not only these three races,
but all the European branches of the great family seem as
it were gathered together, sometimes to do battle against a
36 GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON LECT.
common enemy, sometimes, as it were, to meet at the hearth
of that abiding power which might well pass for the common
centre of them all. We read a casual notice that Frankish
and English ambassadors found their way to the court of
Justinian, and the utmost that we feel is a kind of languid
curiosity, awakened by one of the very few times when the
name of our nation in its earliest days is to be found in the
pages of writers who still spoke the tongue of Greece (31).
But when we think that those Frankish and English
ambassadors represented the two great branches of the
Teutonic race, that they brought with them, if not the
homage, at least the awe and wonder, of the conquered
Celtic lands of Gaul and Britain when we think that the
prince to whose court they went was himself a kind of
triple-bodied Geryon, a Roman Caesar of Slavonic birth,
reigning in a Greek city over all lands from the Ocean
to the Euphrates (32) it would seem as if representatives
of every European branch of the common stock had been
gathered together beneath the roof of the man who gave
the world the abicKng gift of the Imperial Law. Or take
another instance, not this time from a peaceful gathering,
but from the field of battle. On the field of Chalons every
European branch of the Aryan family seemed to have sent
its contingent to the host which was to drive back the
Turanian invader. Side by side, equal in might and dignity,
emblems of the world that was passing away and of the
world that was coming in its stead, marched Aetius and
Theodoric, the Roman and the Goth. But the Roman
came from the Illyrian land by the Danube ; the Goth
ruled over Celt and Iberian on either side of the Pyrenees
(33). And around their banners gathered the Frank and
the Saxon, representatives of the two great branches of the
Teutonic race, along with the Celt from his Armorican
peninsula and the Sarmatian from the furthest European
home of the common family (34). One name alone is
wanting. Greece and Macedonia sent no help against a
foe in whose presence they might well have remembered
ii ARYAN AND NON- ARYAN INSTITUTIONS 37
that Xerxes and Darius were their kinsmen. All that the
eldest brethren of the house could give was the Hellenic-
sounding name borne by the Patrician who led the hosts
of Rome to their last victory.
Those days were the true Middle Ages, the days when
the Roman and Teutonic elements of modern European
life stood side by side, not as yet wrought together into
the whole which was" to come of their fusion. And the
history of those wonderful ages gains a fresh life if we
remember that when Alaric led his host from the walls of
Athens to the walls of Rome (35), he was marching through
the lands of men of the same primaeval blood and speech as
his own. And now what had those scattered brethren in
common ? What, above all, had the three great races in
common, the Greek, the Roman, the Teuton ? For those
three must, as I have already said, form the main subject
of our inquiry. Their own importance is higher than that
of any other race : I who have taken the matter in hand
am better able to deal with them; you who hear me will
most likely be better able to judge of what I say, if I keep
myself for the more part within the limits of the races which
hold the foremost place in European history. For the more
part, I say, not exclusively. While keeping our main
attention fixed on these three races, I shall still freely, as
occasion may serve and as my own knowledge may allow
me, draw illustrations from other branches of the Aryan
family, and even from nations which stand outside the
Aryan pale. In an inquiry of this kind, which as yet is
purely tentative, it is well to draw our illustrations from
as wide a range as may be. The points of likeness between
the primitive political institutions of the various Aryan nations
are beyond doubt, but we meet with striking likenesses also
among nations which are not Aryan. These facts suggest
that we should very carefully examine every case of likeness,
that we should see as well as we can to which of the three
causes of likeness which I traced out in my former lecture
38 GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON LECT.
it may most safely be referred. One of those three causes,
that of direct transmission, whether taking the form of
conscious imitation or not, may be pretty well laid aside
while dealing with the primitive institutions of any nation.
Men who are in the state in which any of the Aryan nations
were at the time when we get our first glimpses of them are
not likely to borrow institutions from any foreign source,
except when they come in contact with nations in a state
of civilization out of all comparison with their own. The
Celt of Gaul was not likely to adopt the manners or institu-
tions of the Iberian, nor was the Iberian likely to adopt the
manners and institutions of the Celt. But both stood ready
to be moulded by the manners and institutions of the Greek
colonists of Massalia or of the Roman colonists of Aquae
Sextise (36). It is absolutely certain that the primitive
Greek, the primitive Teuton, and the primitive Italian
did not borrow from one another. We may even be certain
that the different tribes of the three races did not borrow
from one another that the Ionian did not borrow from the
Dorian, the Latin from the Oscan, or the Frank from the
Saxon. But, setting actual borrowing of any kind aside,
it requires close examination in each particular case to say
whether the likeness between the institutions of any two
given tribes or nations is due to the actual sharing of a
common heritage or to the like working of like circum-
stances in different times and places. Even between
two Aryan races, even between two tribes of the same Aryan
race, it is not always safe hastily to decide that the likeness
must be due to one or other of these causes. Greater
caution still is needed when we come to likenesses between
Aryan nations and nations of another stock. We shall
presently see that the Old Testament, to go no further,
furnishes us with several cases of striking likeness between
Hellenic or Teutonic institutions and the institutions of the
primitive Semitic tribes. Is such a likeness as this, not
indeed accidental but incidental ? Is it due simply to the
working of like circumstances bringing about like results ?
ii INSTITUTIONS COMMON TO DIFFERENT RACES 39
Or are we to suppose that, beyond the common heritage of
the Aryan nations, there is a wider common heritage in
which Aryan and Semitic nations share alike (37), or even
a wider heritage still, common to all mankind ? I will not
venture to decide dogmatically in favour of any of these
alternatives. I do not think that the time has come in
which it is safe to decide dogmatically in favour of any
of them. In an inquiry which is still only in its infancy,
it is safer to mark such cases for further examination, but
to leave their full explanation till the inquiry itself shall
have reached a further stage. With our present amount
of knowledge, the wisest course is to collect instances from
all quarters, to classify them so far as we have the means
of doing so, but not to be hasty in such classification, not to
be disheartened if there are many instances which we have
to leave unclassified altogether.
In carrying out our inquiry as to the connexion between
Primitive institutions, we may apply nearly the same rules
as those which have been suggested in the case of Com-
parative Mythology. It is not safe to set down any instance
of likeness as being necessarily a case of an inheritance
from the common stock, unless we have some corroborative
evidence besides the likeness itself. We have the highest
degree of such corroborative evidence whenever Comparative
Philology steps in to help us. If two distinct nations of
the Aryan family or, by the same argument, if two distinct
nations of any other family have a common institution
called by a common name, and if the likeness is plainly
not a case of imitation or borrowing from one another, such
an institution may be set down without any kind of doubt
as being a clear case of common inheritance from a common
stock. But the negative argument the other way is by
no means equally strong. The caprice of language is so
great, words drop out of use in one tongue and are kept
in use in another in such a singular way, that the mere
fact that cognate institutions are not called by cognate
names is not of itself proof that they are not part of a
40 GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON LECT.
common heritage. We must weigh all the circumstances
and all the different forms of evidence. Of all the forms of
corroborative evidence, the philological form is doubtless the
highest, but it is not the only one. If two nations are
shown by other evidence, especially by philological evidence
applied to other subjects, to be kindred nations, holding in
common a large share of the primitive common stock if
the nature of their political institutions, no less than of
their language, their mythology, their customs of other
kinds, naturally suggests the thought of a common deriva-
tion the mere fact that their institutions do not bear
cognate names is not enough to disprove, or even to throw
doubt upon, the common derivation of those institutions.
In many, perhaps in most, cases we shall find that the
kindred institutions bear names which are not philologically
cognate, but which translate one another, sometimes in a
very remarkable way. The institutions are the same; the
names are not the same; they may not even come from
a common root ; but they are the names which most
closely answer to one another in meaning in a later stage
of the two languages. This is in truth exactly what we
might look for. The common stock of language which the
undivided Aryan family possessed in common even the
stock which its European branches possessed in common
after their separation from the Eastern branch was, in
the nature of things, a vocabulary of the simplest kind, a
vocabulary consisting mainly of nouns expressing the most
familiar objects and verbs expressing the most familiar
actions. Words expressing objects or processes which are
at all complicated or abstract belong to a later stage. Those
each nation has formed for itself; it has formed them out
of the old common roots, but it has formed them each for
itself, and after its own fashion. Now this argument
specially applies to the names of political institutions. We
may believe that the primitive Aryans, before their separa-
tion, had already taken the first steps in political life ; that
they had already developed a simple form of government,
ii ARYAN FORM OF GOVERNMENT 41
traces of which are still to be found among the scattered
members of the common family. That such is the case,
or is likely to be the case, is the ground-work of the whole
of the present inquiry. But, though we may believe that-
the Aryans before the dispersion had worked out for them-
selves something which we may fairly call common political
institutions, we cannot believe that they had worked out
for themselves any refined or exact political vocabulary.
The political stock which the scattered brethren carried off
with them at the dispersion must have consisted of a few
acknowledged customs, a few acknowledged simple principles ;
but their dictionary of political terms must have been short.
They may have had I firmly believe that they had among
them the germs of monarchy, of aristocracy, and of demo-
cracy, but they certainly had not names for those abstract
ideas. It was each nation working for itself after the
dispersion, which worked for itself, out of the common
stock of principles and customs, such more elaborate political
forms as suited its own circumstances. And for those forms
it devised names out of its own vocabulary as it stood at
the time. In this way, while we fully believe that there
is a common political heritage belonging to the whole
family, yet it is in no way wonderful, it is rather what we
should in every way expect to happen, that each nation
should have a political vocabulary of its own. That is to
say, most of the names of particular officers and the like
in each particular nation were independently given by each
nation in the particular language into which the common
speech had by that time grown among them.
And now let us illustrate all this by examples taken from
the political history and political nomenclature of the three
great races of which we have mainly to speak. In future
lectures I hope to draw out more fully in detail how, as for
as we can go back, by the help of history or legend, into
Hellenic, Italian, or Teutonic antiquity, we find in all alike
the germs alike of the monarchic, the aristocratic, and the
democratic principles of government. That union of the
42 GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON LECT.
three which Tacitus thought, if possible, could not be lasting,
seems in truth to have been a common Aryan heritage
possibly a heritage of all mankind (38). In later times
conscious attempts have been made, or, without any conscious
attempt, men have been led by the circumstances in which
they found themselves, to devise forms of government after
this model. In so doing, as in so many other cases, they
have often, wittingly or unwittingly, fallen back upon the
earliest models that were to be found. There is one form
of government which, under various modifications, is set
before us in the earliest glimpses which we get of the
political life of at least all the European members of the
Aryan family. This is that of the single King or chief,
first ruler in peace, first captain in war, but ruling, not by
his own arbitrary will, but with the advice of a council of
chiefs eminent for age or birth or personal exploits, and
further bringing all matters of special moment for the
final approval of the general Assembly of the whole people.
I am far from saying that this form of government is
peculiar to the Aryan nations ; but I wish to deal with it
first of all as something which seems to be common to all
the Aryan races, and which is undoubtedly common to the
three great races with which we are chiefly concerned. It
is the form of government which we see painted in our first
picture of European life in the songs of Homer ; it is found
alike in the realm of the King of Men at Mykene" and in
the realm of the King of Gods and Men on Olympos. It
is the form of government which tradition sets before us
as the earliest form of that ancient Latin constitution out
of which grew, first the Commonwealth and then the Empire
of Rome. It is no less the form of government which we
see in the first picture of our own race drawn for us by the
hand of Tacitus (39), and in the glimpses given us by our
own native annals of the first days of our own branch of
that race when they made their way into this island in
which we dwell. Differences of detail may easily be marked
in the different forms of the common constitution, as it
n THE KING, COUNCIL, AND ASSEMBLY 43
appears in each of the three great races and even at different
times and among different tribes of the same race. The
titles of the chief ruler, the manner of his appointment, the
range of his powers, differ in different cases. With these
differences of detail I shall have to deal in my next lecture.
I have now only to speak of the common element in all.
And in all, I think, we shall see the same general system
of the single head of the state, the smaller Council, and
the final authority of all, the general Assembly of the whole
people. And, when the likeness is so close between the
three branches of this great family which cannot possibly
have borrowed their institutions from one another in later
times, but which remained together as one people till a late
stage of the general dispersion of the Aryan nations, the
presumption surely is in favour of the belief that political
institutions which are so strikingly alike are in truth a
common heritage, a primaeval form of government under
which the forefathers of Greeks, Italians, and Teutons lived
together, before Greeks, Italians, and Teutons had parted
off into separate nations. This presumption may be met
by the objection at which I have already hinted, namely,
that the several powers of the State, analogous as their form
and powers may be, are not, as a rule, called by cognate
names in the three languages, Greek, Latin, and Teutonic.
But, if I have suggested the objection, I think I have also
answered it beforehand. I think that the diversities of
name are exactly what we ought to expect. Each race
carried away certain general principles of government from
the common stock ; but the details of each particular con-
stitution, still more the details of its political vocabulary,
were worked out by each nation for itself, or rather by eacn
tribe of each nation for itself, in times long after the
dispersion. At all events, the points of likeness and un-
likeness between the early political vocabulary of the three
races* form a part of our subject, and it is with some inquiry
into them that I purpose to fill up the rest of the spaoo
which is left me to-day. We shall find few or no cases in
44 GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON LECT.
which the actual names of any office are akin in the three
languages; but we shall find that most of them can be
traced up to common roots, and that there are several cases
in which names, though they are not cognate with one
another, yet most certainly translate one another.
Let us begin with the familiar names of the chief of the
State in the three languages. It is plain at first sight that
the words fiaa-ihevs, Rex, and King are not words of common
origin. Nor is the matter mended if, instead of those three
familiar names, we use older or less usual names in each
of the three languages, if we take the older or poetic Greek
title ava (40), or if for the comparatively modern title of
King we take the older Thiudans or Drihten. But the fact
that Cyning, King, in all its forms, is a comparatively modern
title, is an important point in the argument. It shows how
offices which were substantially the same were called by
different names at different times, or by different branches
of the same race. The Gothic Thiudans and the English
Gyning must have expressed an office substantially the same,
because the Latin Hex and the Greek /3ao-i\evs translate
both of them. The names are in no way kindred in origin,
but they are closely kindred in meaning : Cyning from cyn
and Thiudans from thiuda, each called after the kin or people,
pretty well translate one another (41). We thus find two
nations so nearly allied in speech, though so widely cut off
in history, as the English and the Goths, nations about
which we can hardly doubt that their institutions came from
a common source, calling the head of the people by names
which in both cases meant the head of the people but which
are in no way philologically akin. There is, then, no need
to be surprised if, among branches of the Aryan family which
are less nearly akin, we do not always find cognate offices
called by cognate names. We shall rather be surprised to
find in how many cases the names are cognate. The {^atin
Hex and the Teutonic Cyning have nothing in common in
their names ; but, if we go one step beyond the titles borne
n NOMENCLATURE OF KINDRED TONGUES 45
by the men themselves, we shall find that the regnum of
the one is the same thing as the rice of the other ; if we
sav of the one that he rexit, we say of the other that he
rixode (42). We may go farther East and West, and find
the same name in the Celtic both of Wales and Ireland,
and in the far-off Sanscrit (43). We then see that both
the idea of government and this particular root to express
government had borne fruit in the Aryan mind, not only
before the Latin had parted off from the Teuton, not only
before the Celt had parted off from both, but before the
great separation had happened between the European and
the Asiatic branches of the great^ family. It is therefore
owing merely to one of the accidents of language that, while
Latin and English had a cognate noun and a cognate verb
to express the kingly office, Latin had, and English had not,
a cognate noun to express the King himself. And if the
comparatively modern forms, both of English and of High-
German, give us no cognate name for Rex, we have in the
older Gothic the form Reiks, which, if it does not strictly
translate Rex and Cyning, is not very far removed from
them in meaning (44). If then we find these traces of
common origin in Latin, Teutonic, Celtic, and Sanscrit, we
may be sure that the absence of any such analogies, at all
events of any such palpable analogies, between races so
much more closely allied as the Greek and the Latin, must
be a mere caprice of language, though a strange one indeed.
I say no such palpable analogies^ because I leave it to
stronger philologers than myself to say whether any kindred
may lurk between &pxfiv and regere. However this may be,
it is at least plain that the most obvious words, &va and
fia/>aro/>es of
Athens have in their political use no Latin cognates, though
we see in them the missing Greek cognates of the names of
kindred, brother and f rater (47). So the Athenian fiov\4
answers to the Spartan ye/oowia ; but now mark that the
Spartan ycpova-ia translates the Latin Senatus. Mark too,
that the aristocratic order at Athens and at Rome are
respectively the lir-nfls and the Equites, words which have a
philological connexion in the far-off kindred of ftnros and
equus, but which in their actual shapes are distinct and
comparatively late formations (48). A whole flood of
analogies now pours in upon us. The yepoucria and the
Senate are kindred institutions, institutions which, one can
hardly doubt, are really part of the common heritage. But
the analogy of the names is simply a case of that kind of
analogy which springs from like causes producing like effects.
In an early state of society, age implies rule and rule implies
age; this is taught us by a whole crowd of words in all
languages. From the Elders of Midian and the Srjjuoye'pozres
of Ilios, we have not only Spartan and Roman Senators, but
II NAMES WHICH TRANSLATE ONE ANOTHER 47
TrpeV/Sei?, ambassadors, whose name of age has passed into a
name of office: we have Christian Presbyters and English
Ealdormen ; we have the long string of names which spring
from the mediaeval use of Senior (49), Monseigneur, Monsieur,
Sire, Sir, and endless others. And, to end as we have begun,
beyond the Aryan fold, we have the Sheikhs of the Arab,
and among them the most famous of his class, the Old Man
of the Mountain (50). So again the iTrmjAarat of Homer,
the iTTTreis of Athens, the Equites of Rome, appear again in
the Caballeros, the Cavalieri, the Chevaliers, of Romance
Europe, and in the Ritterschaft of the Teutonic mainland.
Here again the names are simply analogous. Wherever,
as always will be in an early state of society, there is no
professional army, but an armed nation serves without pay,
if such an army uses horsemen as part of its force (51), that
force is sure to be made up of the noble and wealthy:
cavalry and chivalry will be the same. In the later days
of Rome the Equites ceased to be a military body; but in
after ages, when the same state of things came again, new
words were made, no longer from the now obsolete cquus, but
from the word cdballus which had taken its place. In
Germany again the same causes again called forth the word
Hitter, and its English equivalent comes into use in the later
years of our national Chronicle, when King William dubs
his son Henry to rider (52). No such title is heard of in
the earlier days of England. The Thegn, the Ealdorman,
the King himself, alike fought on foot ; the horse might bear
him to the field, but when the fighting itself came, he
stood on his native earth to receive the onslaught of her
enemies (53).
All these are instances of the way in which, especially in
so young a form of research as this, we must ever walk
warily, and most carefully distinguish cases of likeness which
there is every reason to believe are really owing to inherit-
ance from a common stock, and cases where the likeness is
simply the likeness of analogy, the effect of like results
springing from like causes. We have seen how much
48 GREEK, ROMAN, AND TEUTON LECT.
is proved by the presence of cognate names of offices, how
little is proved by its absence. Our preliminary work is now
over. We have defined the nature of our method ; we have
traced out the limits within which it will for the present be
wise commonly to confine its application. In the following
lectures I shall try to grapple with the leading analogies to
be found in the great institutions of the three races with
whom we have mainly to deal. In my next lecture I purpose
to deal with the State itself, with the primitive conception
of the commonwealth, as we see it in our first glimpses of
Greek, Roman, and Teutonic political life. I shall thence
go on to the head of the State, the King, and to its body,
the Assembly. And the course may well be wound up with
some instances of special analogies in the institutions of the
three races, all helping to show, on the one hand, how truly
human nature is one ; how, without regard to races and times,
men are by like circumstances moulded to like forms ; and, on
the other hand, to show how great is the common heritage
which the tribes of the common family bore away from their
primaeval home, how many are the signs of ancient brother-
hood, which, notwithstanding distance of place and time,
notwithstanding mutual ignorance and mutual hatred, may
still be traced among them.
in THE THREE ELEMENTS 49
III
THE STATE
IN my two former lectures we have, I trust, seen somewhat
of the general nature of that common political heritage a
share in which probably belongs to every member of the
great Aryan family, and most certainly belongs to each of
its three most illustrious branches. Our earliest glimpses of
the life of our forefathers and kinsfolk set them before us as
already gathered together in organized societies, as having
already developed the first principles of political government,
and, what is more, as already showing the germs of the
three great forms of political government, as showing the
germs of monarchy, of aristocracy, and of democracy. Wher-
ever we find, in however rude a shape, the King or other chief,
the Council of elders or nobles, and the general Assembly
of the people, the substance of all three is there. Nor must
we in this matter be led away by mere names. The first
element, that of the King or other chief, may remain after
the kingship in the ordinary sense has been abolished, just
as the forms and titles of kingship may remain after the real
kingly power has passed away. The aristocratic element
again, the Council, may or may not take the form of an
hereditary body. Aristocracy, I need hardly say, in its strict
sense, is the rule of the best : indeed aristocracy would be
the rule of the ideally best, those who are really wisest,
bravest, and most upright. Any other standard, be it that
of age, of birth, or of wealth, is simply a substitute which
50 THE STATE LECT.
is accepted because, in an imperfect world, the rule of
the ideally best is something which may be talked about,
but which will never be found in actual being (i). In the
most conservative society of men that ever was, the com-
munity which never wholly abolished any one of its ancient
institutions, in the Commonwealth of Rome, we see how both
the kingly and the aristocratic elements of the State, in the
common sense of those words, might be swept away without
at all sweeping away the substance of either the kingly or
the aristocratic power. Personal kingship was swept away,
but the kingly power was not swept away: it was simply
put into commission, entrusted to two men for a year, instead
of to one man for life (2). Afterwards, as the needs of the
State called for such a change, it was further divided among
various magistrates of various ranks, but to all of whom
some portion of kingly dignity still clave (3). So again,
when, as the monarchy had changed into a commonwealth,
so the commonwealth changed into a monarchy, the change
was not made by abolishing old offices, or by creating new
ones, but by gathering all the offices of State into the hand
of a single man. As the separation of the various duties of
the King created the various magistracies of the Common-
wealth, so in turn the union of the various magistracies
of the Commonwealth created the Emperor (4). So with
regard to the aristocratic branch, the object of all popular
movements at Rome was, not to abolish the Senate, not
even greatly to lessen the powers of the Senate (5), but to
break down the distinction of old and new citizens, and
to throw the Great Council of the Commonwealth open
to all its members. In this way the three powers went on,
though the hands which held them might be changed. The
kingly power went on, though there was no longer a personal
King ; the aristocratic power went on, though it was no
longer confined to a particular order of the Commonwealth :
and thereby for two glorious centuries Rome came nearer to
being aristocratic, in the literal sense, than any other
government that the world ever saw. If the rule of the best
m ROME THE TRUEST ARISTOCRACY 51
was ever reached in any political community upon earth, it
surely was in the commonwealth which strove against
Hannibal and overthrew him. If there ever was a time
when the ideal picture of the poet was to be found on earth,
the time when
None was for a party ;
When all were for the state ;
When the great man helped the poor,
And the poor man loved the great,
that time was surely to be found in those brightest days of
the Roman Commonwealth, when the elder distinctions of
patrician and plebeian had passed away, and when the later
distinctions of rich and poor had not begun to show them-
selves (6). The great idea of the State, the City, the
Commonwealth, the great whole in and for which each of its
members lived and worked and fought and died, had never
reached to greater sway over the minds of men than in the
long struggle between the first of cities and the first of men.
Thus it was shown that the very greatest of men, in the
single strength of the wisest head, the stoutest heart, and
the strongest arm, was, after all, a power less mighty than
the enduring strength of an united people (7). To show
how the idea of the State that is, in those days, the idea of
the City could rule men's heads and guide their actions, I
might find examples equally to the purpose in the history of
other commonwealths, in democratic Athens or in oligarchic
Venice. But Rome stands out above all, because in no
other commonwealth did the three primitive elements of
government live on so long side by side, with changed forms
indeed, but with the strength of all three undiminished.
Among the ranks of her own citizens, Rome had in those
days no elements of weakness : every citizen had his place,
and knew his place, and did his work in his place. Her one
element of weakness lay without her walls, in that she was a
city ruling over other cities (8). But here, as in all history,
and as pre-eminently in Roman history, the good and the
52 THE STATE LECT.
bad, the strong and the weak sides, spring from the same
source, and can hardly be separated from one another. The
noblest and the vilest deeds of the true Roman went hand
in hand. To Rome, to the State, to the whole of which he
was but an unit, he was ready at any moment to sacrifice
himself and all that he had ; and to the State, to which he
was ready to sacrifice himself, he was no less ready to sacrifice
all that came in the way of the greatness of the Roman
Commonwealth. To Rome he would sacrifice the laws of
eternal justice, the rights of other nations and common-
wealths, the very faith of treaties, and what we should deem
the truth and honour of Rome herself.
The State then, in what is in some sort the highest con-
ception of it, is a City ; and it can hardly fail to be a City
bearing rule over other cities. Now the conception of the
State as a City is far from being the earliest conception of
the State ; still it is one which has much in common with
the earliest conception of the State as opposed to the con-
ception of it which now prevails in modern Europe. The
modern conception of the State is a Nation. It is perhaps
not very easy to define a Nation ; still the word conveys an
idea which, if not always very accurate in point of philosophy,
is at least practically intelligible. Whatever else a nation
may be or may not be, the word suggests to us a considerable
continuous part of the earth's surface inhabited by men who
at once speak the same tongue and are united under the
same government. Anything differing from this strikes us
as exceptional. Thus Switzerland and Scotland give us
examples of nations, which we feel to be nations, but which
are formed by the artificial union, through the circumstances
of their history, of parts of three adjoining nations which
have parted off from their natural brethren and have found
adoptive brethren among strangers. On the other hand, in
North America we see, in the United States and the adjoin-
ing dominions of the British Crown, a continuous territory
inhabited by men speaking the same language, but who,
being separated from one another by the circumstances of
in DEFINITION OF NATIONALITY 53
their history, no longer feel themselves to be members of the
same nation. By a process analogous to the Roman law of
adoption, that law by which a man might artificially become
a member of a family to which he did not belong by birth,
those parts of the German, Burgundian, and Italian nations,
which have joined together to form the modern Swiss nation,
and those parts of the Irish, English, and British nations
which have joined together to form the modern Scottish
nation, have cast away their original nationality and have
made for themselves a new one (9). But the Publius
Cornelius Scipio who finally overthrew Carthage was,
/Ernilius as he was by birth, as good a Scipio as the elder
Publius who had given Carthage her death-blow at Zama.
And so the artificial Scots, the artificial Switzers, have
formed a nation as real and true as if it had been a nation
strictly answering to some linguistic or ethnological division.
And, in the other case, the events which have caused the
English settlers north and south of the great American lakes
to part off into two distinct nations have the character of a
family quarrel, which, because it is a family quarrel, is harder
to heal than a quarrel between strangers. But we feel that
all cases of this kind either way are exceptional cases,
accounted for by exceptional causes ; the normal nation is
one where the continuous speakers of a single tongue are
united under a single government ; such a nation forms the
ideal of a State, whether kingdom or commonwealth, which
fonns the ground of all modern political speculation.
Now this fact that we expect, as a rule, the nation to fonn
a single government the fact that political unity enters
into our general idea of a nation shows how greatly we
have changed in this matter from the political ideas of earlier
times. Take Greece for example. There was in the Greek
mind a distinct idea of a Greek nation, united by a common
origin, speech, religion, and civilization. Every Greek was
a brother to every other Greek, as contrasted with the
outside Barbarian (10). But that the whole Greek nation,
or to much of it as formed a continuous or nearly continuous
54 THE STATE LECT.
territory, could be united into one political community, never
came into the mind of any Greek statesman or Greek
philosopher. The independence of each city was the one
cardinal principle from which all Greek political life started.
The State, the Commonwealth, was in Greek eyes a City, an
organized society of men dwelling in a walled town as the
hearth and home of the political society, and with a surround-
ing territory not too large to allow all its free inhabitants
habitually to assemble within its walls to discharge the
duties of citizens. During the most brilliant times of the
Greek Commonwealths, the City, and nothing higher or
lower, was the one acknowledged political unit. A scattered
tribe was not enough, an unwalled village was not enough :
while, on the other hand, no Greek of those days willingly
merged his city in any greater aggregate (n). And the
higher was the civilization, the fuller was the political
developement, of any branch of the Greek nation, the stronger
was the feeling with which it clave to the full political
independence of every separate city. The feelings which we
bear towards the Nation, the Greeks bore towards the City
( 1 2). We have heard in modern times of " oppressed
nationalities" a form of words which, I suppose, means
much the same as oppressed nations. That form of words
implies that such nations are wronged by being put under a
government which is not of their own nation. With exactly
the same feelings did the old Greeks look upon those cases
in their own political world when it was not nation that was
subject to nation, but city that was subject to city. For one
city to bear rule over another was common enough, when one
city was stronger and another weaker ; but such a relation
was always deemed to be unjust, at all events in the eyes of
the weaker city. And in such cases it was always, in the
strictest sense, city bearing rule over city; the subject city
still kept on its being as an organized political community,
and it therefore felt only the more keenly the loss of its full
political independence (13). The theory of the independence
of each city, the universal doctrine of Greece, was, though as
in ORIGIN OF THE CITY 55
we shall presently see in a very modified form, the political
doctrine of ancient Italy also. The feeling has affected
language in a way which makes it hard to represent some
familiar Greek and Latin expressions in any modern speech.
DarpiV, patria, may often be well enough translated by
country, patrie Vaterland ; but the true patria of the Greek
or the Roman was not a country in our sense : it was not
Greece but Athens, it was not Italy but Rome, which was
the patria of the Athenian or the Roman (14). Scipio at
Liternum was held to be in exile as much as if he had
banished himself to Spain or Syria. And when Tiberius
removed his dwelling from Rome to Caprea3, men wondered
that a Roman citizen, a Roman prince, could so long " carere
patria " ; a phrase which, if we translate it " to be without a
country," sounds strange indeed when applied to one who
had simply moved his dwelling from Rome to an island off
the coast of Campania (15).
But the idea of the City, on the face of it, marks in truth
a very advanced state in the political developement of any
people. If we look at the history of Greece only, we shall
find abundant signs that that political life of the city which
comes out with such brilliancy in the days of the Persian
and Peloponnesian ware, and which was already fully
established in the days of Homer, was far from being the
earliest social condition of the Greek people. The thing in
fact hardly needs proof: it needs no evidence to show that a
wandering tribe cannot build cities, nor is it likely that men
should gather themselves together in political societies within
walled towns till they have been long accustomed to the
practice of agriculture and of life in settled dwellings. As
the settled village is an advance on the wandering tribe, so
the walled city is an advance on the unwalled village ; its
origin is often to be found in the hill-fort which formed the
rude citadel of the village, the primaeval fortress where men
and cattle might seek shelter in case of a sudden inroad of
their enemies. The hill-fort might itself grow into the city,
56 THE STATE LECT.
as so many ancient Gaulish hill-forts have grown into ancient
Roman and modern French cities (16), or as the greater
Athens of later times gathered round the holy rock of
Athene*, once itself the city, but now its venerable Akropolis
(17). Or again, as population grows and civilization advances,
the hill-fort may be wholly forsaken for some more tempting
site in the plain ; as when the lofty Dardanie made way for
holy Ilios, the city of articulate-speaking men (18). Greek
city life could not have existed as long as the forefathers of
the Hellenes were slowly making their way from the head of
the Hadriatic gulf down to the peninsula of Attica and the
great island of Pelops (19). The point is that even the first
rudiments of Greek city life could hardly have come into
being till the Hellenes had long been in possession of the
peninsular land between Mount Olympos and Cape Malea.
The Homeric poems contain passages which seem to contrast
the social state of the Achaian princes and people with other
races, at least not wholly alien, which were still on a lower
social level (20). It is worth noticing too that the familiar
word brj(j.os, the people, seems to have first of all meant the
ground, and thence to have been transferred to the inhabit-
ants or tillers of the ground (2 1 ). This change of meaning
could hardly have taken place after city life was fully
established. And side by side with the greatest develope-
ment of the later meaning of the word, side by side with the
Athenian Delmos himself, we see the local divisions of the
land, which still bore the same name, witnesses of the time
when Demos had meant the land itself, and not those who
dwelt upon it (22). But other proofs show that the state of
society which we see in the Homeric poems succeeded, no
doubt by gradual stages, to one far less advanced, which still
left traces of itself in historic times. In historical times the
cities are everything ; treaties and leagues were, in the more
advanced regions of Greece, made only between city and
city. But the most ancient of common Greek institutions,
the great religious union of the Amphiktyons, was not an
union of cities. Athens and Sparta, as Athens and Sparta.
in TRIBES MORE ANCIENT THAN CITIES 57
had no part or lot in it. The Amphiktyonic body was an
union of races, races some of which had risen to greatness in
other parts of Greece, while others remained in their ancient
obscurity in their old seats by Thermopylai. In that great
religious convocation, the Dorian and the Ionian race had
each its equal vote alongside of Malians and Phthiotic
Achaians. Athens and Sparta, as severally the greatest
Ionic and the greatest Dorian city, might practically command
the Ionian and the Dorian vote ; but, as the cities of Athens
and Sparta, they had no formal place in the Council. This
feature in the Amphiktyonic body, a feature which could not
possibly have been introduced at any moment in the recorded
history of Greece, at once shows the vast antiquity of the
Amphiktyonic union, and it also shows that the system of
cities with which we are so familiar in Grecian history grew
out of an earlier system of tribes (23). So again, even in
the historic times of Greece, we find that there were large
districts, JEtolia, Akarnania, some parts of Arkadia, in which
city life was very imperfectly developed, where walled towns
at special points were not unknown, but where the city had
not wholly swallowed up the tribe and the village, in the
way in which it had done in the lands of Athens, Corinth,
or Boeotia (24). We find also in the historic times more
than one instance in which a Greek city Elis for example,
and Megalopolis in after times was formed by the union of
several villages, or of towns so small that they hardly
deserved the names of cities (25). And we see too, in the
case of Mantineia and of Sparta itself, a tradition so strong
that it can hardly have been groundless, which told that
those cities had themselves been formed in a like sort, in
days which must have been older than the Homeric catalogue
(26). So again, in those neighbouring nations which were
not strictly Greek, but to whom the true Hellenes seem to
have .stood in the relation of members of the same family
who had outstripped their brethren, among Epeirots and
Macedonians, we find much the same state of things as in
the ruder parts of Greece itself: the city is not unknown,
58 THE STATE LECT.
but the tribe and the village still remain the leading
features of national life (27). We might have inferred
without historical evidence, from the very nature of the case,
that the Greek system of cities grew out of an earlier
system of tribes and villages, but there is in truth quite
enough of strictly historical evidence to prove the point.
The system of cities was thus, even in Greece, far from
being a thing which had been from the beginning. But it
became, as we all know, the great characteristic of Grecian
politics, the feature to which Greece owes at once the
brilliance and the shortness of its history. For the city,
according at least to Greek political ideas, kept on one
feature of the life of the tribe, even more strictly than it
was kept on by the tribe itself. The City, the State, the
commonwealth, was an assemblage of yevrj, of gentes, of natural
or artificial families. Citizenship was thus a matter of
hereditary descent : mere residence, even to the ninth and
tenth generation, could never confer the civic franchise (28).
Once or twice in the history of a city, when the original
citizens had shrunk up into a narrow oligarchy, a large
admission of the unenfranchised classes to the rights of
citizenship might change the commonwealth from an oligarchy
into a democracy (29). Now and then too citizenship might
be bestowed by special decree on a stranger, whether a
resident on the spot or a distant prince who had deserved
well of the commonwealth (30). But there was no way by
which the necessary extinction of citizen families could be,
as a matter of ordinary course, supplied by new blood. A
Greek city might hold other cities in bondage ; she might
have other cities united to her on terms of either equal or
dependent alliance; but the breaking down of the citizen
barrier, the admission of allies or subjects to a common
franchise, was, we may say, unknown in the historical times
of Greece. It had been done once before history began,
when all the Attic towns were either persuaded or constrained
to merge their political being in that of the one city of
Athens (31). It was tried once in historical times, in a
in GREECE NEVER BECAME A NATION 59
feeble and unsuccessful way, when the commonwealths of
Argos and Corinth were for a moment thrown into one (32).
But, as a rule, through the most brilliant days of Greece,
each city clave to its separate political being. The higher
the political developement, the higher the material and social
civilization of any Grecian city, the more fervently, the more
obstinately, it clave to its distinct and independent being as
a sovereign commonwealth. It might be a ruling city, and
it never dreamed of granting its citizenship to its subjects ;
it might be a dependent city, and it dreamed perhaps of
throwing off the yoke of its too powerful neighbour, but
never of asking for its franchise.
From this cause sprang two results. Greece never became,
in any political sense, a nation. And those parts of Greece
which, in her latest days of independence, came nearest to
becoming a nation were not those parts which had filled the
foremost places in her earlier and more brilliant days. In
the last, the Federal, age of Greece the parts of Greece
which showed the fullest national life were precisely those
more backward districts where Greek city life had never
developed itself in its fulness. ^Etolia, Akarnania, even the
hellenized Epeiros, now show a truer national life than
Athens. But in those later days one great step in political
progress was taken. Federal principle had hitherto lurked
in Greece only in the parts where either city life was hardly
developed at all, or where the cities were small and of little
account in Grecian politics. It had long bound together the
fierce tribes of ^Etolia and the respectable but insignificant
towns of the original Achaia (33). It now became the
leading principle of Greek politics. The greater part of
Greece was mapped out among Federal commonwealths.
But the greatest cities of the olden time kept aloof from
a system which so greatly trenched on the separate inde-
pendence of each particular city. Athens never joined the
Achaian League ; Sparta was enrolled in it against her
will (34). In these last days of independent Greece a new
form of political life arose. But it was simply a developement
60 THE STATE LECT.
or modification of her old system of independent cities. The
cities gave up so much of their independent political being
as to group themselves into Confederations, to let several
cities form a single State in their dealings with other States.
But the Confederation was still a Confederation of cities.
The internal constitutions of the cities remained untouched.
Each still remained a distinct and sovereign commonwealth
in all its domestic affairs. The form of a Federal Common-
wealth, a Bundesstaat (35), and that a Federal Common-
wealth formed, not of tribes or cantons but of cities, was
the nearest approach to national unity to which the most
advanced parts of Hellas in the days of her independence
ever reached.
Here then is one idea of the State : that in which the
State, the Commonwealth, the body in which a man enjoys
political rights and discharges political duties, the body
round which all his patriotic feelings centre, is not a nation,
not a country in our sense, but a single city. There is no
doubt that such a system as this calls forth the powers of
man to their very highest point; there has never been
another political society in the world in which the average
of the individual citizen stood so high as it did under the
Athenian Democracy in the days of its greatness. The weak
point of such a system is that it is too brilliant to last ; the
high-strung enthusiasm to which it owes its being, and
without which it cannot be kept up at the same level, is
not likely to last for many generations (36). Again, such
a system can last only as long as it forms the whole of its
own civilized world. Where the strength of a country is
cut up among a number of absolutely independent cities,
indifferent or even hostile to one another, they must give
way as soon as an united power of equal strength and equal
intelligence is brought to bear upon them. Greece drew
increased strength, and even increased union, from the
attacks made upon her by the brute force of Persia: she
could not bear up against the single power of Macedonia,
schooled in her own arts and discipline. The lesson did its
in THE CITY SYSTEM LESS PERFECT IN ITALY 61
work in the revival of Greek independence in the Federal
period. But even then the degree of union that was reached
was simply Federal, and even that degree of union was
never extended over the whole land. Greece never became
a nation: a people whose idea of political life does not go
beyond the separate and independent city never can become
a nation ; it never can endure when the forces of a nation
are brought against it. But it none the less shows the
powers of man in & higher form than they can reach under
any other system ; and, although the system itself is one
which cannot last in its full force and glory through more
than a few generations of men, its history is none the less
rich in abiding lessons for all time.
From the idea of the State as the single independent
city, the idea which gave all its brilliance to the peninsula
east of the Hadriatic, we turn to another idea of the State,
or rather to a modification of the same idea, which was
worked out in the political history of the other great
Mediterranean land. Italy, no less than Greece, was from
the earliest times parted out into small commonwealths, or
rather it was occupied by distinct settlements, clans, or
tribes, which grew into distinct commonwealths. The idea
of the independent city may be said to have been the leading
political idea of ancient Italy, no less than of ancient Greece,
but it was never carried out in the same completeness. We
must set aside that part of Southern Italy which was in
after times directly colonized from Greece, and the history
of whose Greek cities is simply a part of the history of the
Greek cities elsewhere. In that much larger part of Italy
which was untouched by Greek colonization, though the
walled city seems to have been everywhere the ideal political
unit, yet true city-life, according to Greek notions, never
reached the same complete predominance. From the be-
ginning the towns were smaller, and they were more ready
to join themselves together by a Federal tie. There never
could have been more than a very few Italian cities, and
62 THE STATE LECT.
those scattered at distances as great as that which separated
Rome from Capua, which could have had any claim to rank
alongside of the great cities which in Greece lay as near
together as Thebes, Athens, Corinth, Sikyon, and Argos
(37). Hence the history of ancient Italy is a history of
confederations, far more than a history of single cities ; and
the Italian confederations had from the beginning a closer
union and a nearer approach to national unity than the
later and more brilliant confederations of Greece. Latium,
Samnium, and the rest, had more in common with ^Etolia
and Akarnania than with the more strictly civic confeder-
ation of the Achaian League. The real elements of old
Italian life are the gens or clan and the tribe. The city
is rather the fortress, the place of meeting, the place of
shelter, of the tribe or collection of tribes, than the actual
home and dwelling-place which it was in Greek ideas (38).
At the same time it was in Italy that the idea of the city,
the single independent city the ruling city was carried
out on a scale in which it never was before or after. A
group of Latin villages grew together to form a border
fortress of Latium on the Etruscan march (39). That border
fortress grew step by step to be the head of Latium, the
head of Italy, the head of the Mediterranean world. The
idea of the city the ruling city gathering around it the
various classes of citizens, half-citizens, allies, and subjects
(40), all looking to the local city as the common centre,
whether of freedom to be exercised or dominion to be
endured, all this finds its greatest and mightiest develope-
ment in the Latin city of Rome. Rome alone among cities
can rightly call herself eternal; but she won her eternity
by casting off, more than any other city ever did, the
trammels which narrowed the greatness and shortened the
life of the other ruling cities of the world. The course by
which Rome rose to her dominion was set forth by one of
her own Caesars in her own Senate; it was by granting,
step by step, equal rights with her own alike to faithful
allies and to conquered enemies. Claudius argued, with
HI EFFECTS OF EXTENSION OF ROMAN FRANCHISE 63
thorough insight into the history of the State over which
he ruled, that the dominion of Athens and Sparta had been
short, because they had failed to grant their citizenship to
their allies and subjects; that the dominion of Rome had
been lasting, because the allies and subjects of Rome had
been freely allowed to become Romans. The plebeian, the
Latin, the Italian, each in his turn, had been admitted to
the rights and honours of the conquering city. From Italy,
so Claudius argued, the same process should go on to Gaul
and Spain ; and so it did go on till, when the franchise of
the Roman city had become nothing worth, all the free
inhabitants of the Roman world were admitted to it (41).
But mark that it was to the franchise of the Roman city,
to the local burghership of a single town, that Latium,
Italy, and the world, were gradually admitted. They were
admitted to a body of exactly the same nature as the
hereditary burghers of an old Greek or a mediaeval Italian
city, to a body essentially the same as the freemen of a
modern English borough. We may, in a sense, say that
a city grew into a nation, or into more than a nation, when
its citizenship was thus extended to the whole of the then
civilized world. Still it was the local franchise of a city ;
it was a franchise which, as long as it remained any real
franchise at all, could be exercised nowhere except in that
city (42). The result was that, long before the world had
become Roman, even before all Italy had become Roman,
the municipal government of the Roman city had been tried
and found wanting as the government of so large a part
of the world. The constitution which, for its own proper
use, had been one of the best that the world ever saw a
constitution all the better because it grew up bit by bit
as it was wanted broke down when it was put to an use
for which it was utterly unfitted. The burghers of a single
Italian city could not govern the whole world ; they could
not even govern Italy. They could not even administer
the affairs of their own city, when they themselves were
numbered by hundreds of thousands. The despotism of the
64 THE STATE LECT.
Caesars was the stern remedy for an incurable disease. As
regards the city itself, if, as Maecenas thought, life even
in torments is better than death (43), the disease was a
smaller evil than the remedy. As regards the subject lands,
they gained by getting one master instead of many. The
moral of Grecian history is that a system of independent
cities cannot bear up against an united kingdom or common-
wealth. The moral of Roman history is that, if a single
city aspires to universal dominion, it may indeed become
the seat of a power which deserves to be called eternal, but
it can become mistress of the world only by the sacrifice
of its own freedom. The distinction between citizen and
subject may be swept away; but it will be swept away,
not by raising the subject to the level of the citizen, but
by bringing down the citizen to the level of the subject.
We thus see that, though Greece and Italy alike took
the independent city as their leading political idea, the
results which were worked out were widely different in the
two cases. The earlier and fuller establishment of the
Federal principle in Italy, the greater readiness in com-
municating the franchise to allies and subjects, both worked
to the same end. And I suspect that both of these were
different results of the same cause, and that that cause was
that the clan feeling, the tribe feeling, had by no means so
wholly given way to the city feeling as it did in Greece.
The truth is that, if we read history as chronology requires
us to read it, beginning with Greece, thence going on to
the Roman conquerors of Greece, and thence to the Teu-
tonic conquerors of Rome, we are, for many purposes of this
inquiry, reading history backwards. We find the primitive
conception of the State in an earlier form among the
Italians than we find it among the Greeks, at all events
than we find it in those Greek states of which we have
most knowledge. And we find it in a still earlier form
amongst the Teutonic nations than we find it among the
Italians. The notion of the State as a city is, as we have
in GREEK, ITALIAN, AND TEUTONIC SYSTEMS 65
seen and as it must be in the nature of things, a later notion
than the notion of the State as a tribe. We have seen that,
even in some parts of Greece, the notion of the city the
ruling idea of fully developed Greek political life grew
but slowly, and never bore the same fruits which it bore
in the great Greek city commonwealths. Among the Teu-
tonic nations we may fairly say that the city commonwealth
never became an essential element of political life at all.
The conception of the absolutely sovereign city common-
wealth is not a strictly Teutonic conception j it has never
been the ruling political idea of any Teutonic people. The
Greeks reached the city stage so early, they carried out its
leading idea to such perfection, that they never reached the
national stage. The Teutons passed from the tribal stage
into the national stage without ever going through the city
stage at all. The Italians followed an intermediate course ;
they reached the city stage, but they never carried it to
the same perfection to which it was carried in Greece. The
older ideas of the clan and the tribe kept far more power ;
down to the latest days of Rome's freedom they exercised
an influence which they lost at a far earlier stage of Athenian
political history.
To trace out the difference in this respect between the
history of the three chief races which we are comparing, we
must go back to the very beginnings of political life. The
Greek philosophers themselves saw that the original element
of the State of the City was to be found in the family.
But they perhaps did not attach its full importance to the
stage which comes between the family in the narrower sense
and the political commonwealth (44). The great practical
element in all early political societies is the family, but it is
the family, not in the narrower sense of the mere household,
the father and his immediate children, but in the form which
the family takes when it has swelled into the clan. The
clan may take many forms : it may long keep up the wild
independence, the predatory life, the attachment to the
hereditary chief of the race, which distinguishes the Celtic
66 THE STATE LECT.
clans and septs both in Britain and in Ireland (45). In a
higher stage it may take the shape of the agricultural village
community, such as we see it in forms common to the Aryan
races both in East and West (46). The two things in short,
the clan and the village community, are the same thing,
influenced only by those circumstances, geographical or other-
wise, which allow one clan or company to adopt a more
settled life, while another is driven to linger in, or even to
fall back upon, a ruder state of things. The yeVos of Athens,
the gens of Rome, the mark or gemeinde of the Teutonic
nations, the village community of the East, and, as I have
said, the Irish clan, are all essentially the same thing. All
are parts of the common heritage ; all mark a stage in pro-
gress which is essentially the same, although the further
developements of each have branched off into such widely
different shapes. In each case, the community thus formed
is the lowest political unit it is the association next above
that of the mere household. It does not stand immediately
below the tribe, as we find between them the intermediate
association of the hundred or curia. Still, the tribe on the
one side, the clan or gens on the other, stand out in such a
much more marked way than the intermediate group that
we may venture to say that, as the commonwealth, whether
city or nation, is formed by an union of tribes, so the tribe is
formed by an union of gentes.
The names yeVos and gens at once proclaim that community
of blood is the idea which lies at the root of the association
so called. We have no English name which exactly expresses
the same idea (47) ; but the local nomenclature of our own
land makes it plain that this lowest political unit was at
first, here as elsewhere, formed of men bound together by
a tie of kindred, in its first estate natural, in a later
stage either natural or artificial. A large proportion -of
the parishes of England bear names which come directly
from old Teutonic patronymics. Uffmgton, Gillingham, a
crowd of others the same name not uncommonly repeating
itself in distant parts of the country point beyond all doubt
in THE ORIGINAL ELEMENT OF THE STATE 67
to the Uffingas, the Gillingas, and so forth, as their original
Teutonic settlers (48). These names answer exactly to those
borne by the gentes of Athens and Rome, to the Alkmaionidai
and the Julii, and to those borne by the clans and septs of
the Scot both in his own island and in Britain (49). In all
these cases the name is strictly a patronymic ; the race is
called after a supposed forefather. But in none of these
cases are we bound to look for actual kindred among all the
members of the body (50). Still it is none the less true that
the idea of the family runs through all. The family is the
starting-point : the common patriarch, divine or human, real
or mythical, Alkmaion, Julus, Offa, Donald, is the tie which
binds together all the members of his house, whether really
sprung of his blood or not. The adopted son, the freedman,
the client, the favoured stranger, might be received in their
several degrees within the pale of the house, so that real
purity of blood would become a mere name, a simple legal
fiction (51) ; still it was into the house, the gens, the clan
that is, into the family, to its name, its rights, its sacred
ceremonies and traditions (52) that he was admitted. Both
at Rome and at Athens the gentes were joined together into
a higher union, that of the curia or the parpia that is, the
brotherhood, the name which still so strangely preserves
the common Aryan word which the Greek tongue has lost in
its older and nearer meaning (53). The gathering of curice
or QparpCai again forms the tribe ; the gathering of tribes
forms the State. But alike at Rome and at Athens, tribes
formed of curice and gentes lost their political significance,
and gave way as political institutions to tribes of later origin
founded on another principle. In the later stages of both
commonwealths, the elements of which the commonwealth
was made up were no longer the primitive genealogical
tribes, but tribes which were essentially local. But the
smaller groups of which the tribes were immediately made
up, the gentes and the groups intermediate between the gentes
and the tribes, still lived on, though, by one of those accidents
which are to be found in all these histories of political growth,
68 THE STATE LECT.
it happened that the element which kept most of its import-
ance differed in the two cases. In the later stages of the
Athenian commonwealth we hear far more of the (frparpia.
than we do of the yfvos. At Rome the curice sank into a
mere name at a comparatively early stage, while the gentes
remained and flourished, and had the most abiding influence
on the national character and the national history.
At Rome then the influence of the family community was
far stronger, far more lasting,, than it was at Athens. One
cause of this difference may seem a small one. There can
be little doubt that the fact that the gentes of Rome survived
longer and played a greater part in history than the Greek
and Teutonic unions which answer to them is largely owing
to an accident of Roman nomenclature, though we cannot
doubt that the apparent accident had itself some determining
cause. Megakles the Alkmaionid, or Godric the Tiffing,
remembered and boasted of the name of his real or mythical
forefather, but he did not bear it about with him as part of
himself, as his nomcn to which his own personal name was
only a prccnomen, in the way in which the names of the
patriarchs of their house were borne by Titus Quinctius or
Caius Julius (54). But other causes were doubtless also at
work. There can be little doubt that the genealogical
associations at Rome drew much of strength and perman-
ency from the fact that they were, more largely than at
Athens, local associations also. No fact in what we may call
mythical history seems better established than the tradition
that the city of Rome grew out of the union of two or more
village communities. So, as we have seen, did many Grecian
cities, Sparta itself among them (55). But at Sparta the
origin of the o>/3a the Spartan curice and tribes is not to
be looked for in the old Lacedaemonian local divisions, but in
the divisions which the Dorian conquerors brought with
them and which they established in all the Dorian cities of
Peloponnesos. These tribes, common to the Dorians every-
where, together with the &>/3ai of which they were formed,
lived on as divisions of the ruling Spartan people, alongside
in EFFECTS OF ROMAN SYSTEM OF NOMENCLATURE 69
of the local divisions earlier than the conquest, just as, both
at Athens and Rome, we find the local tribes either sup-
planting or existing alongside of the tribes which were
purely genealogical (56). At Athens, if the city was formed
by the geographical union of earlier villages a process
which must not be confounded with the political union of
the towns of Attica it must have been at a time so early as
to have left no trace of itself either in legend or in tradition.
A prying eye may perhaps find out some slight and doubtful
traces of inhabitants of the soil earlier than the historic
Athenians, but they will hardly find traces of the fusing
together of neighbouring and kindred villages (57). We
find at Athens the four Ionic tribes, common probably to
the lonians everywhere ; but we have no such local
memories as those which connect the Ramnes with the
village of Romulus and the Titienses with the village of
Titus Tatius (58). Add to this the feeling of which I shall
have to speak in another lecture, the strong conservative
feeling which runs through the political revolutions of Rome
in a far higher degree than through those of Athens. It
thus came about that the old Ionic tribes at Athens were
swept away as political bodies, and that the parpLai, and
yentes lived on only as family brotherhoods and religious
associations, no longer as component members of the com-
monwealth. The ancient genealogical tribes gave way to
the later tribes of the constitution of Kleistheues, tribes
which were mere artificial divisions, and which had no
real tie either of descent or of locality. The Ten Tribes
were indeed made up of 8j/jzoi, and the 5j)^ot were doubtless,
in the strictest sense, village communities ; but care was
specially taken that the 8fy/uoi which made up a tribe should
not lie geographically together (59). For such a change
there were good reasons in the political experience of the
time ; but the substitution of a new local division for one
purely genealogical marks a great revolution in men's ideas,
and shows how far real statesmanship could prevail over
mere traditional memories (60). The Demos often bore the
70 THE STATE LECT.
name of the Gens (61). Still in the later political arrange-
ments of Athens the Gens had passed utterly away, and the
Demos was not itself a political unit, but a mere local
division of a new local tribe.
At Rome, on the other hand, the commonwealth, both in
its earlier and its later form, was made up of tribes which
were essentially local. Such, we can hardly doubt, were the
old Patrician tribes which represented the original com-
munities of which the city itself in its first estate was made
up. The settlement of Romulus and the settlement of
Tatius, that is the tribes of the Ramnes and the Titienses,
occupied two distinct hills among the famous seven (62). It
is more certain that the new Roman people, the Plebs, was
made up from the beginning of strictly local tribes ; it is
certain that, as the State grew, it grew by the addition of
fresh local tribes. When a new town or district was enfran-
chised, its territory formed a new tribe ; and of the thirty-five
tribes of the later commonwealth the local city of Rome
contained four only (63). And the local tribe too, like the
Attic bf]fj.os, was often closely connected with the clan (64).
And though the br^os, as an element of the State, was
essentially a local division, yet, as the 8r/juoi were in their
origin gentes or village communities, it was quite possible
that, at the time when the brj^oi. were mapped out, the
Si) pas might nearly answer to some gens and its following.
And in the like sort, though the 877/0101 and the new tribes were
local in their origin, yet, when once established, they became
genealogical. So it was with the local Roman tribes also.
Their names show that they too were often connected with a
gens, and the connexion is marked in a special way in one
case which has been preserved to us either by history or by
tradition. When Attus Clausus and his following moved to
Rome, they formed the Claudian tribe as well as the Claudian
gens. But the Claudian tribe had not, like an Attic Demos,
sunk to be a mere local division ; it was a component part of
the Roman commonwealth, with its independent vote in the
m POSITION OF THE LOCAL ROMAN CITY 71
Assembly of the Roman tribes. Through all these causes,
the ideas which were at the root of every commonwealth
the ideas of the clan and the tribe lived on at Rome with
far greater strength, and with a far closer connexion with
the political life of the commonwealth, than they kept at
Athens. But, because the ideas of the clan and the tribe
remained more lively, the idea of the city was less perfect.
The Roman commonwealth was a city commonwealth,
because the city of Rome was the one heart and home of
the State. But, in this like Athens, though unlike every
other Greek city, the life of the commonwealth was not shut
up within the walls of the city. Rome was a city common-
wealth ; we cannot call it a mere city commonwealth, when
the City itself had little more than a ninth part of the
voting power of the State four votes only out of thirty-five.
In all these ways the conception of the city was less perfect
at Rome, less perfect in Italy generally, than it was in
Greece. For that very reason the political system of Rome
was more long-lived than that of Greece. Rome never, in
strictness, became a nation ; but it came far nearer to
becoming a nation than either Greece as a whole or any
particular Greek commonwealth.
We now come to the institutions of our own forefathers
and kinsmen to the primitive conceptions of the State as
held by the nations of the Teutonic race. Our own early
history is the true key to the early history of Greece and
Italy. Among the ancient Germans and Scandinavians, and
not least among the Teutonic settlers in our own island, we
see many things face to face which in Greece and Italy we
see but darkly; we see many things for certain which in
Greece and Italy we can only guess at ; we see many things
still keeping their full life and meaning, of which in Greece
and Italy we can at most spy out traces and survivals. It is
among the men of our own blood that we can best trace out
how, as in Greece and Italy, the family grew into the clan-
how, as in Greece and Italy, the clan grew into the tribe
72 THE STATE LECT.
and how at that stage the developement of the two kindred
races parted company how among Teutons, on either side
of the sea, the tribe has grown, not into the city but into the
nation. But, before I try to work out this comparison and
contrast in any detail, I would first speak of two facts which
strongly illustrate the different political and social ideas of
those two great branches of the Aryan family, the Greek and
the Italian on one side, our own forefathers on the other. I
choose two facts, two formulae, two fashions of speech, stand-
ing out on the surface of those transitional ages when the
Roman and the Teutonic system stood side by side. They
will show how utterly unlike from one point of view, close as
is their likeness from another, are the political ideas and
manner of speech of those in whose minds the city is every-
thing, and of those with whom the city is unknown or
secondary, with whom the tribe grew at once into the nation.
Both examples come from early ecclesiastical history. When
Christianity gradually became the religion alike of the
Roman Empire and of the conquerors who embraced its
civilization, those who obstinately clave to the old idolatry
were called, both in Latin and in Teutonic speech, by names
which in themselves expressed, not error in religion, but
inferiority of social state. The worshipper of Jupiter or of
Woden was called in Latin mouths a pagan, in Teutonic
mouths a heathen. The two names well set forth the two
distinct standards of civilization which were held by those
who spoke the two languages. The paganus was the man of
the country, as opposed to the man of the city. The Gospel
was first preached in the towns, and the towns became
Christian while the open country around them still clave to
the old Gods. Hence the name of the pagan, the rustic, the
man who stood outside the higher social life of the city, came
to mean the man who stood outside the pale of the purer faith
of the Church (65). But in the England of the sixth
century, in the eastern Germany of the eighth, no ,such
distinction could be drawn. If all who dwelled without the
walls of a city had remained without the pale of the Church,
in ROMAN AND TEUTONIC SYSTEMS 73
the Church would have had few votaries indeed among the
independent Teutons. In their ideas the opposition between
the higher and the lower stage was not the opposition between
the man of the city and the man of the country ; it was the
opposition between the man of the occupied and cultivated
land and the wild man of the wilderness. The cities, where
there were any, and the villages and settled land generally,
became Christian, while the rude men of the heath still
served Woden and Thunder. The worshippers of Woden
and Thunder were therefore called heathens (66). Pagan and
Heathen alike mark the misbeliever as belonging to a lower
social stage than the Christian. But the standard of social
superiority which is assumed differs in the two cases. The
one is the standard of a people with whom the city is the
centre of the whole social life ; the other is the standard of a
people among whom the city, if it was to be found at all, was
simply the incidental dwelling-place of a part of the nation
which was in no way privileged over those who dwelled
beyond its bounds.
The other instance from the same period is this. In the
organization of the Christian Church the ecclesiastical
divisions always followed the civil divisions of the time ; a
fact which, as they commonly outlived those divisions, makes
the boundaries of ecclesiastical provinces and dioceses of such
primary importance in historical geography. But in Roman
and in Celtic or Teutonic Europe for in this matter we may
class Celt and Teuton, Scot and Englishman, together the
ecclesiastical divisions represent civil divisions of quite dif-
ferent kinds. In Italy, Gaul, or Spain, the Bishop was
placed in the city ; the city was his hearth and home, the
chief seat of his spiritual labours ; it was from the city that
he drew his title, and the limits of his spiritual jurisdiction
were marked by the limits of the civil jurisdiction of the
city. In Britain and Ireland, on the other hand, either
there were no cities at all, or, where there were any, they
were not, as under the Roman system, the centres of all
political and social life. Hence the Bishop was not the
74 THE STATE LECT.
Bishop of the city, but the Bishop of the tribe or nation :
the limits of his diocese were fixed by the limits of the
principality ; his see, his bishop-stool, was not necessarily
fixed in the most populous spot in his diocese, and the title
of the Bishop, like the title of the King, was more commonly
taken from the people than from any place in their territory
(67). Titles like Meath, Ossory, Argyll, and Galloway are
vestiges of the days when men spoke also of an Archbishop
of the English and a Bishop of the South-Saxons (68). And
all bear witness to a state of things when the tribe and not
the city, the people and not the territory, was the source and
limit alike of temporal and of ecclesiastical rule.
That our own forefathers and kinsmen, in the picture
which Tacitus gives us of their earliest state, lagged behind
their kinsfolk in the two southern peninsulas, as we see
them in the Homeric poems and in the earliest traditions
of Rome, is a matter neither of shame nor of regret. Our
political developement has been slower, but it has also been
surer. By never reaching to the highest civilization of one
age, we have been able to reach to a yet higher civilization
in another age. By never passing through the exclusive
city stage, we have been better able to reach the national
stage. In a word, when we compare Teutonic history with
the history of ancient Greece and Italy, we see that what
we have lost in brilliancy we have gained in permanence.
The commonwealths of Greece shone with a meteoric bright-
ness too glorious to be lasting. Her isolated cities were
not they could not be wrought together into a single
nation. Rome founded, not indeed a lasting nation, but a
lasting power, by bringing the whole of the then civilized
world under the dominion of a single ruling city. But
the nations of the Teutonic race, alike in Germany, in Britain,
and Scandinavia, grew from tribes into nations without ever
going through the Greek stage of a system of isolated cities.
The first glimpse which Tacitus gives us of the men of
our own race sets them before us as being still in a distinctly
in TEUTONIC MARK ANSWERS TO GENS 75
lower stage of society than the Homeric Achaians. Their
state answers rather to the state of those races on which
it is plain that the Homeric Achaian looked down as being
in a social state inferior to his own. They had risen far
above the mere hunting and fishing stage, far above the
pastoral stage ; they have not reached the stage of the
city, but they have reached the stage of the village com-
munity. The lowest unit in the political system is that
which still exists under various names, as the mark, the
gemeinde, the commune, or the parish (69). This, as we
have seen, is one of the many forms of the gens or clan,
that in which it is no longer a wandering or a merely
predatory body, but when, on the other hand, it has not
joined with others to form one component element of a
city commonwealth. In this stage the gens takes the form
of an agricultural body, holding its common lands the
germ of the ager publics of Rome and of the folkland
of England (70). This is the markgcnossenschaft, the village
community of the West. This lowest political unit, this
gathering of real or artificial kinsmen, is made up of families,
each living under the rule, the mund, of its own father,
that patria potestas which survived at Rome to form so
marked and lasting a feature of Roman law (71). As the
union of families forms the gens, and as the gens in its
territorial aspect forms the markgenossenschaft, so the union
of several such village communities and their marks or
common lands forms the next higher political union, the
hundred, a name to be found in one shape or another in
most lands into which the Teutonic race has spread itself.
As an intermediate union between the gens and the tribe,
the hundred would seem to answer to the Roman curia, the
Athenian (ftparpia, the Lacedaemonian w/3a. But then-
is one Roman division, standing alongside, as it were, of tin-
curia, whose name, as in so many other cases, exactly
translates the Teutonic name of which we are speaking.
It seems almost impossible but that the Teutonic hundred
and the Latin century, in the earliest usage of each, must
76 THE STATE LECT.
have answered to one another. Both names, in their actual
historic use, are mere survivals. Neither the hundred
nor the century, as we know them, answer to a real hundred
of anything ; but every name must have had a real meaning
when it was first given, and there was a time when
the hundred or century must have been a real hundred
or century of something, whether of houses, or families,
or fighting men (72). Above the hundred comes the pagus,
the gau, the Danish syssel, the English shire, that is, the
tribe looked at as occupying a certain territory (73). And
each of these divisions, greater and smaller, has its chief.
In a primitive society, where patriarchal ideas still live
on, age implies rule and rule implies age, and the Teutonic
chiefs, great and small, bore a name of that large class of
which we have already spoken, as showing how, in early
times, length of days was looked on as the natural source of
dominion. In England, at least, the chief, greater or smaller,
bore the common title of ealdor ; in the mere family the
father is at once the ealdor, without further election or
appointment from above or from below. We have the
hundredes-ealdw, the curio; but the name in its special
meaning belongs to the common father, the common chief,
of the whole tribe. He bears, in his peaceful character,
the long-abiding title of Ealdorman, which in war time
he exchanges for that of Heretoga, in later form the Herzog,
the Dux, the leader of the army (74). He is the highest
chief, the community over which he bears rule is the
highest political unit, which we see in our earliest glimpses
of Teutonic polity. For the whole history of our land and
our race will be read backwards, if we fail always to bear
in mind that the lower unit is not a division of the greater,
but that the greater is an aggregate of the smaller. The
hundred is made up of villages, marks, gemeinden, whatever
we call the lowest unit ; the shire, the gau, the pagus, is
made up of hundreds ; and in the same sort the pagus is not
a division of the kingdom, but the kingdom is an aggregate
ofpagi.
in DEFINITION OF THE TRIBE 77
Of the kingdom and its growth I shall have to speak
more fully in my next lecture. We are now speaking
of the state of things in which the tribe, the gau, the
union of marks and of hundreds, is the highest strictly
political conception. In the days with which we have
now to deal, the tribe was the State, the gau was the
territory of the State. The tie of kindred between various
tribes of the same stock might be strongly felt, they might
be capable on occasion of common action, their common
origin and its claims might be kept in memory by the
recognition of a common name ; still the several tribes had
not been fused into the higher political unit, the nation.
Each tribe was a distinct commonwealth ; its union with
other tribes was temporary, or at the most federal ; each
had its own chief, its own JSaldorman or Heretoga, whose
rule in ordinary times did not extend beyond his own
tribe, though in times of danger a common Heretoga
the germ of the future King might be chosen to lead
the common forces of all the tribes which acknowledged
any common tie (75). A more lasting union of several
tribes of this kind formed the nation, the highest con-
ception of the State or commonwealth in Teutonic political
language, from whence it has become the ruling idea
in the political ideas and language of modern Europe.
The Gens, the Curia, the tribe, of Greece or Italy, each
has its close Teutonic parallel ; but here the lines diverge,
the parallelism ceases. In Greece and Italy the union of
tribes formed only the city ; among all the branches of
the Teutonic stock the union of tribes formed the nation.
I shall show in my next lecture how, as the Ealdorman
or Heretoga was the chief of the tribe, so the King was tht-
chief of the nation. And the process of the joining together
of tribes into nations may be best traced out by marking
how the rule of independent Ealdormen gave way to that
of a common national King. In some lands the old system
lingered on longer than others. Among the Continental
Saxons it lingered longer than it did anywhere else on
78 THE STATE LECT.
so large a scale. The Old-Saxons, the long-abiding foes
of the Prankish power, the men who clave so stoutly to
their old freedom and their old Gods, never coalesced so
closely as to have a common King. Yet we may say that
they learned to become a nation by another process. They
contrived a form of national unity which dispensed with
a personal head. It was theirs to form an union which,
rude as it may seem beside the more finished constitutions
either of earlier or of later days, may fairly claim the name
of the earliest Teutonic confederation (76). In other lands
too, on the northern moorland or among the southern moun-
tains, by the mouths of the Elbe and the Eider or by the
sources of the Khine and the Reuss, smaller portions of
the Teutonic race either kept or won back again the old
freedom, the old political system, of the earliest times.
In Frisian Ditmarsen the old system of the mark and the
gau lived on from the days of Caesar and Tacitus to be
overthrown by the Danish Kings of the House of Oldenburg
(77). In the Three Lands of the Alemannian mountains,
in the valleys of the young Rhine and the young Rhone,
it was won back to live on to our own days (78). Else-
where tribes grew into nations, Ealdormen grew into Kings,
and, in some cases, nations and their kings have grown into
dominions and rulers greater still.
This old Teutonic constitution, the constitution once
common to the whole race, but which lived on longest
among those Continental branches of the race which were
most closely akin to ourselves, was brought into the Isle of
Britain by its Teutonic conquerors. Our forefathers, the
Angles and Saxons, brought over with them the divisions,
the institutions, the titles, of their old land into the land
which became their new home. This is one of the dis-
tinctive features of our island history, one which we share
with a small part only of the Teutonic lands on the main-
land. The change between the Germany of Tacitus and the
Germany which, less than a hundred years later, began to
send forth Franks and Saxons, Burgundians and Lombards,
in TEUTONIC SYSTEM CARRIED TO BRITAIN 79
must have been a change indeed. The tribes had been
gathered into nations (79). But the swarms which parted
off from the central hive carried their own institutions with
them into every land where the Roman influence was not
too strong for them. Wherever they found or made a land
empty of inhabitants, wherever they really became the
people of the land and not merely a conquering class among
their Roman subjects, all the old divisions and the old
institutions sprang up again on the new soil (80). In our
own island above all, settled as it was bit by bit by small
parties of Teutonic invaders, before whom, in all those parts
of the island where they really did settle, everything British
and everything Roman was utterly swept away, the process
had to begin again from the beginning. In all that was
strictly England things started utterly afresh: marks grew
into hundreds, hundreds into shires, shires into kingdoms,
separate kingdoms into one united kingdom, on the soil
of England itself. In Britain therefore we can actually look
upon the process, while in Germany we can see only the
results. The ancient system was doubtless modified by the
circumstances of men who found themselves in a land where
they had to win and hold every inch of ground with the
sword's point. The mark and the gau show themselves
again, but they do not show themselves by the same names.
The village community with its common land, the joint
possession of a clan reverencing a supposed common ancestor
of the Basingas or the Wellingas, is as clearly to be marked
in England as in Germany. But, as in later times the marl-
has been almost stifled between the ecclesiastical parish and
the feudal manor (81), so we may suspect that from the
beginning it showed some points of difference from the same
institution on the Continent. We may suspect that the tie
of kindred, everywhere to some extent artificial, was more
largely artificial in England than it was on the mainland.
And we may be sure that small settlements planted in a
hostile land would from the beginning show a special ten-
dency to unite into larger wholes. Marks and hundreds
80 THE STATE LECT.
planted in Kent or Sussex by the followers of Hengest and
^Elle could never have been wholly independent ; they must
from the beginning have acknowledged the supremacy of
the common Heretoga under whom their settlers had made
their way into the land. In England therefore the system
must from the beginning have been touched with some
shadow of the coming kingship. Still the same elements
were there, and in England, as in Germany, the larger
bodies were formed by the union of the smaller. By a
strange chance, the group answering to the German gau,
the English shire, bears a name which expresses the exactly
opposite idea to that of union. But there is reason to
believe that both the name and its meaning are due to
events in English history some centuries later than the first
settlement. The later English pagi, to use the name by
which they appear in Latin writers, were strictly shires,
divisions shorn off from a large whole. But they were
formed in imitation of those earlier English pagi which were
formed by the process of union. The oldest pagi of England
do not, in ancient usage at least, admit the name of shire.
They bear strictly tribal names, whether, like the East-
Saxons, the pagus itself has become the kingdom, or
whether, as with the Sumorsaetas and Dorsaetas, several pagi
joined to form one larger kingdom of the West-Saxons (82).
The aggregate of tribes was thus able to form, what the
aggregate of cities never could form, a nation in the highest
sense.
I might go on almost for ever on the fascinating, but still
somewhat obscure, subject of the old Teutonic polity, whether
in Germany, Britain, or Scandinavia. But my main business
now is only to insist on the one great difference between
Teutonic and Hellenic politics ; the presence of the city as
the leading political idea in the one system and its absence
in the other. We see how closely the primitive elements
correspond ; so closely that we cannot doubt for a moment as
to their being portions of a common Aryan inheritance. But
we see also how they were modified by the one great dis-
in GEOWTH OF ENGLISH NATION 81
tinction between village and city life. The Greek common-
wealth grew, flourished, and decayed as a city, amazing the
world perhaps alike by the splendour of the days of its great-
ness and by the long wretchedness of the days of its decay.
Meanwhile among the despised Barbarians, scorned by kins-
folk who had forgotten their kindred, slowly and obscurely,
shires were melting together into kingdoms and tribes into
nations. Thus were formed those nations of Teutonic blood
which settled within the Continental provinces of the Empire,
and foremost among them the nation to whom, in course of
time, the Empire itself was to come as part of their inherit-
ance the mighty people of the Franks (83). So too in our
own island we can see the steps by which the English nation
in Britain, and that greater English whole of which the English
in Britain are now but a part, grew out of those endless
Teutonic settlements on the British coast, of which the keels
of Hengest and Horsa brought the earliest. We can see,
though somewhat dimly, a crowd of petty States under their
separate chiefs, whether bearing the title of King or Ealdor-
man, gathered together into the great kingdoms of North-
umberland, Hercia, and East-Anglia. We can see more
clearly the confederated West-Saxon principalities fused to-
gether into the one West-Saxon kingdom, and we can see
the West-Saxon kingdom grow into the Kingdom of England
and into all that the Kingdom of England has added to it in
later times (84). All the events of our history, election, com-
mendation, conquest, all help in the work of fusion ; till, instead
of a system of isolated cities, instead of a single city bearing
rule over subject cities and provinces we have a political work
more lasting than the other, more just and free than the
other, the nation which knows no distinctions among its
members, and which gives equal rights to the dwellers in
every corner of its territory.
In this way we see that the Teutonic history is in some
sort the key to the history of the two southern peninsulas.
We see the institutions of the Teutonic people, domestic,
G
82 THE STATE LECT.
social and strictly political, at an earlier stage than we see
those of the Greeks and Italians. While therefore we see
the general likeness, the evident common origin of all, we
see also something of the different steps by which these two
great divisions of the Aryan family shaped their several in-
stitutions out of the common stock. Among the Germans of
Tacitus we see a state of things in which the elements com-
mon to all have been less changed than in any other picture
that we have of any European people. In the Homeric
Achaians we see a stage somewhat more advanced in itself,
and still further modified, even then, by the tendency of the
Greeks to centre all their political life within the walls of a
city. Out of the state of Homeric Greece the state of his-
torical Greece grows by pure and natural developement. Out
of the old Teutonic state of things the institutions of modern
Europe have also grown, but not by the same unmixed course
of developement. Everywhere the original Teutonic stock has
been more or less modified by an infusion of Roman elements.
I speak of Western Europe in general, of the Romance-speak-
ing no less than of the Teutonic-speaking lands, for I am not
now speaking of language but of political institutions. In
the languages of Southern Europe, Latin is, of course, the
main stock ; the Teutonic element which all of them have in
a greater or less degree is a mere infusion, just as, in the
languages of Northern Europe, the Teutonic is the main
stock, and the greater or less Romance element is a mere
infusion (85). But with regard to political institutions, we
may, even in Southern Europe, look upon all that came from
a Roman source as an infusion into a Teutonic body. One
spot alone in Western Europe if it has any right to be
reckoned as part of Western Europe the island common-
wealth of Venice, never acknowledged a Teutonic master,
and kept on its unbroken connexion with the elder state
of things (86). Everywhere else Teutonic kingdoms were
founded ; and though their institutions were largely modified
by the laws and institutions of their Latin-speaking subjects,
yet, even in Gaul, Spain, and Italy, we must look on the rule
in TEUTONIC INFLUENCE IN ROMANCE LANDS 83
of Gothic, Frankish, Burgundian, Lombard, and Norman
Kings as a rule essentially Teutonic, though largely modified
by the Roman traditions of the several countries. And, on
the other hand, there is no Teutonic country, not the Scan-
dinavian kingdoms themselves, which has, even in its political
institutions, kept wholly clear of the influence of Rome.
Throughout Western Europe we may set down the strictly
political institutions as Teutonic, but as everywhere modified,
in some countries very slightly, in others very largely, by the
traditions of Roman times, and by the influence of that
undying Roman Law which has been the foundation of the
later jurisprudence of every European nation but our own.
And, besides this general influence of the elder state of
things on the political institutions of the Teutonic kingdoms
of modern Europe, there has been one case at least in which
the direct continuity of Roman institutions, strengthened-by
that other source of likeness which brings like events out of
like causes, went far to bring about a revival of an elder state
of things. These causes made mediaeval Italy, with its system
of city commonwealths, a living revival of the political story
of ancient Greece. On the points of likeness and unlikeness
between the two I will not here enlarge, as it is a subject
which I have done my best to deal with in detail in another
shape (87). I will only say here that, though the Teutonic
political system did not, like that of Greece, assume the city
as the necessary starting-point of political life, yet it showed
itself quite able to take in the city, even the virtually inde-
pendent city, as one important element among others in its
political system. In all lands but our own the Roman cities
lived through the storm of Teutonic invasion ; and presently,
both in our own land and in the lands where the Roman
had never dwelled, cities of purely Teutonic birth began to
arise (88). In our own land, the strong feeling of national
unity, the strong central authority of the Crown, the work
which was begun by the great West-Saxon Kings, and which
was carried to its full perfection by the Norman Conqueror,
hindered English municipalities from ever growing into
84 THE STATE LECT.
sovereign commonwealths. Yet it is a thought worth bearing
in mind, how near the Five Boroughs of Danish England once
were to forming an independent confederation of city com-
monwealths, how near Exeter once was to being, like Thebes
or Sparta, a city ruling over neighbouring and weaker cities
(89). Here, as in every other part of Western Europe, a new
element, unknown to the ancient Teutonic institutions, gra-
dually arose the element of cities which everywhere enjoyed
a certain measure of self-government and local independence,
a measure which, wherever the central government was weak,
came in practice very near to absolute freedom. In Italy it
reached its highest point, and Florence was for some ages as
truly an independent democracy as Athens. In the Teutonic
lands themselves the developement of the independent cities
seems less brilliant ; but it perhaps seems less brilliant only
because the Italian cities have a special charm of their own.
They have that combined charm of classical, of mediaeval,
and of modern associations, which appeals to a wider range
of sympathies than aught that attaches to the cities on the
Rhine or the Danube, to the Teutonic Rome girded by the
Aar or to the Teutonic Carthage girded by the Trave (90).
Yet the German cities have their history too, their history
artistic, social, mercantile, religious, as well as strictly political.
And, in their strictly political aspect, the history of the
League of the Northern Hansa and of the Old League of
Upper Germany (91) is as rich in political teaching as the
history of the Italian cities themselves. We may learn more
from the Bern of Berchthold and the Erlachs, where no King
or Tyrant ever dwelled, than we can learn from the Bern of
Theodoric and Can' Grande (92). The internal histories of
the Teutonic cities, their internal disputes and revolutions,
the origin of their exclusively patrician governments, the
more rare aspirings of their democracies, teach us better to
understand the history of Rome and Athens themselves.
But between the cities of the elder Greek and Italian world
and the cities of mediaeval Europe one great point of differ-
ence must always be borne in mind. In ancient Greece the
in NO TRUE ROMAN ELEMENT IN ENGLAND 85
cities were everything; their territory took in the whole
land, they acknowledged no superiority, even of the most
formal kind, in any earthly power. But in Germany the free
cities and their dominions were always mere oases in a land
of princely rule ; and even in Italy the city commonwealths
never wholly covered the whole surface of the land, and never
wholly threw off the formal superiority of the King of Italy
and Emperor of the Romans.
In all these inquiries the question is ever suggesting itself,
how far we are to see in the analogies between ancient and
medieval city commonwealths merely the working of the law
that like causes should produce like effects, and how far we
are to see any tradition, any imitation, of Roman institutions
in the municipalities of the purely Teutonic parts of Europe.
This is a question far too wide for discussion here. In England,
in this as in other matters, there was no room, no opportunity,
for direct Roman influences. Many of our English towns
are simply Teutonic village communities which grew and
prospered so as to outstrip their neighbours. But where
an English town arose even after an interval of desolation
on the site, often even within the walls, of a fallen Roman
city, there was at least the memory of the past to influence
the history of the restored erection. Yet it is certain that
nothing in the institutions of any English city can really be
traced to a Reman source ; there is nothing Roman in the
municipal institutions of Bath or Chester, or even Exeter,
any more than there is on such purely English sites as Read-
ing or Northampton (93). In Italy and Southern Gaul, on
the other hand, whether there be any direct transmission or
not, there is, as we have already seen, not a little of that
natural and inevitable imitation which closely borders on
direct transmission. In Germany, on the other hand, in such
cases as the common use of the name Patrician for the ruling
families, we see imitation of another kind. It is not such
a dead imitation as the consulship of Buonaparte, because
there is a real analogy between the patricians of Rome and
the patricians of Bern or Nlirnberg ; but it is not the same
86 THE STATE LECT.
kind of natural imitation as the consulship at Milan or Alby.
We may be satisfied with saying that in the mediaeval city
commonwealths there is a Roman element clearly shown
even we in England have what we may call the element of
suggestion but that its nature and degree varies widely in
different lands and times. But it is the likeness from analogy
between the ancient and the mediaeval cities which gives the
comparison of the two its real historic interest and value.
What amount of likeness between them may be due to direct
transmission is little more than a matter of antiquarian
research in each particular place.
We have thus traced the origin and history of the two
great ideas of the State, the conception of the State as a city
and the conception of the State as a nation. We have seen
how the common elements developed up to a certain point
side by side among the southern and northern branches of
the European Aryans, and how, after reaching a certain point
in common, the developement of the Greek and Italian nations
and that of the Teutonic nations branched off in different
directions. We have traced the course of the family, the
gens, the hundred, and the tribe, till they grow into the
Greek or Italian city and into the Teutonic nation. The
causes of the divergence hardly belong to our present subject.
Those causes are many and various, and not least among
them are those geographical causes which made the Mediter-
ranean lands take the lead in European civilization, and
which made Greece take the lead among Mediterranean lands.
In those lands a political growth, quicker, more brilliant, but
less lasting, led them to the developement of the city ; our
growth, slower, obscurer, but steadier and more lasting, led
us to the developement of the nation. And in this develope-
ment we, the great Teutonic colony in this once Celtic island,
have assuredly played no mean part among our brethren and
kinsfolk of the common stock. It is, as I have already said,
in our land that the old Teutonic institutions have really had
the freest play, that they have grown and developed with the
in SUMMARY 87
most unbroken continuity down to our own day. Nowhere
else have both liberty and national unity received so few
checks. The Scandinavian nations have drawn even less
than ourselves directly from Roman sources ; their national
life has been more unbroken than our own, but their political
life has been far less so. Germany has split asunder, and is
being welded together again before our eyes. So has Italy.
In both cases perhaps the nation has split asunder because
the real power of the local kingdom was crushed between the
weight of the Imperial dignity which was joined to it (94).
We have had no such breaks : the causes of the difference
belong to quite other branches of historical research ; but the
fact is in its place here. The stages by which the Teutonic
tribe, by admitting tribe after tribe to equal fellowship, grew
into the modern European nation a process at once the
parallel and the contrast to that by which a single Italian
city came to embrace whole kingdoms and nations within the
pale of its municipal franchise can nowhere be so well
studied as in the history of our own land.
88 THE KING LECT.
IV
THE KING
FROM the State itself we come to its head, to its chief, above
all to the chief in his most clearly defined and fully developed
form, when he holds the rank of a King. Now, what is a
King ? The question is far more easily asked than answered.
We commonly know a King when we see him ; but it is
quite another matter to say offhand in what his kingship
consists. Some Kings are hereditary; others are elective.
Some Kings reign with absolute power ; the power of others
is narrowly limited by Law. Some Kings acknowledge no
superior on earth ; others admit a greater or less superiority
in a feudal or federal chief. In some kingdoms the kingly
office, like most other offices, is confined to the male sex;
in others it is open to both sexes alike. Some Kings go
through an ecclesiastical ceremony of consecration ; some
dispense with any such rite. Yet, amidst all this unlikeness,
it is plain that there is a common idea of kingship, which
is at once recognized, however hard it may be to define it.
This is shown, among other things, by the fact that no
difficulty is ever felt as to translating the word King and the
words which answer to it in other languages. Between any
Romance and any Teutonic language, Hex and its derivatives,
Cyning and its cognates, are felt to answer to one another.
No man ever doubts as to using Rex or Roi to translate
King or Konig, in any of the possible changes which may be
rung on the two sets of words. If we go on into Greek,
iv DIFFERENT CONCEPTIONS OF KINGSHIP 89
we find that, in those stages of the language with which
most of us are chiefly familiar, in its classical and in its
modern stage, /3av (30). The rest of
Athenian history consists in a series of changes by which
the powers of the Archons were gradually transferred to
other bodies in the State, to the popular assembly, to the
popular courts of justice, to the magistracy of the Ten
Generals (31). The Archonship, the vestige of ancient
kingship, might be cut down to a shadow ; but it was too
holy a thing to be altogether swept away. It lived on
through all changes, till at last, when it was a shadow indeed,
it was again for a moment united with more than kingly
power. There came a time when Hadrian, Imperator and
Augustus of Rome and of the world, did not deem it beneath
him to be also, for a single year, the Archon by whose name
that year was marked in the annals of the democracy of
Athens (32).
100 THE KING LECT.
The Roman kingship fared otherwise. The revolution
which swept away the thing itself swept it away far more
thoroughly. There were no such gradual stages to break
the fall of the elective kingship of Rome as broke the fall
of the hereditary kingship of Athens. It is a mere conjecture
that a special right to a share in the chief magistracy was
for a moment reserved to the house of the fallen King (33).
At all events, Rome had nothing answering to the archonship
for life or for ten years. Into the place of the King chosen
for life there at once stepped the two Consuls, or rather
Praetors, chosen for a single year. But the point is that
the Consuls did step into the place of the King, and that
they kept it. Where kingship had nothing specially divine
about it, where kingly government was put an end to, not
because of the virtues, but because of the crimes of the
King, there was no need to deal very tenderly with the
kingly house or with the kingly office. But, on the other
hand, there was not at Rome any such wish as there was
at Athens to do away with the kingly power. At Athens
the archonship went on, but its duties were gradually cut
down to a routine of religions and lesser judicial functions.
The Archons neither commanded the armies of the State
nor presided in its Assemblies. The Polemarch, with his
warlike title, became as mere a survival as the /3a
156 THE ASSEMBLY LECT.
whole power of the nation is therefore vested in it. It is
only gradually and by slow steps that there arises that dis-
tinction between legislative, executive, and judicial powers
on which such stress is laid in the refined political theories
of modern times. And in no country perhaps is the dis-
tinction fully carried out. It certainly is not so in our
own. The primitive Assemblies described by Tacitus were
courts of justice as well as deliberative bodies. So were
all Assemblies of the kind, great and small. In the
Frankish Assemblies we have seen that it was only step
by step, as the great mass of the freemen began to grow
slack in their attendance and to deem their duties a burthen,
that a separate class of judges arose in order to ensure that
there should always be some one ready to do justice between
man and man (60). That great offenders were called upon
to answer for their crimes before the general Assembly of
the whole realm, was a matter of course. So in our own
land, our ancient Witenagemots not only made laws, not
only chose and deposed Kings, Ealdormen, and Bishops,
but sat in judgement on state offenders and pronounced
sentences of outlawry or confiscation. And that branch of
our Legislature which is the personal descendant of the
ancient Gemot still keeps its judicial authority in matters
both criminal and civil (61). The newer, the more popular,
branch shares the judicial authority only in an indirect way.
It exercises it by its share in Acts which are judicial in
substance though legislative in form, bills of attainder and
of pains and penalties. It exercises it too by its share in
that anomalous jurisdiction by which each House under-
takes the defence of its own privileges. In the smaller
local Assemblies, after they had ceased to be sovereign,
the business must always have been mainly judicial. We
must remember that, carefully as we now distinguish the
functions of legislator, judge, juror and witness, it was only
by slow degrees that they were distinguished. All grew
out of the various attributes of an Assembly which, as being
itself the people, exercised every branch of that power which
v JUDICIAL POWERS OF ASSEMBLIES 157
the people has, at sundry times and in divers manners,
entrusted to the various bodies which, directly or indirectly,
draw their authority from that one sovereign source. In
all times and in all places power can have no lawful origin
but the grant of the people. The difference between a
well and an ill-ordered commonwealth lies in this. Have
the people wisdom and self-control enough to see that, in
reverencing and obeying all the powers of the State in
their lawful exercise, they are in truth doing homage to
themselves and giving the fullest proof of their fitness to
discharge the highest right of men and citizens?
158 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
VI
MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES
I HAVE now gone through the main analogies which strike
us in the chief political institutions of those three great
branches of the Aryan family to which our inquiries have
been mainly given. I have dealt with the general conception
of the State, with the powers of the King or other chief, and
with those of the Assembly of the People. On all these
points I hope that I have made it, to say the least, probable
that the institutions of the several branches of the family all
contain traces of a common origin, relics of a common
primaeval stock, which have grown up into various forms
under the influence of diversities of time, place, and circum-
stance. In this last lecture I purpose to seek for some other
analogies in points which come under the general head of
politics in the wide sense, but which do not exactly come
under the head of political constitutions. I have now chiefly
to deal with the various orders and classes of men, a subject
which is closely connected with the varieties to be found in
forms of government, but which still is in idea something
separate from them. The idea of the smaller Council in
primitive times, the idea of the second or Upper Chamber in
the refined constitutions of later days, are both of them ideas
which easily blend with the idea of hereditary distinctions of
birth. But the two things are in their own nature separate.
It is quite possible, both in the earlier and in the later state
of things, that certain families may be acknowledged as noble
vi CONSTITUTION OF COUNCILS 159
and may be entitled to whatever honours and privileges the
custom of the country may attach to nobility of birth,
without those honours and privileges taking the form of any
special share in the government. Men may be honoured on
account of their birth ; their birth may even give them legal
privileges; while at the same time the Council or Upper
Chamber may be formed of men picked out, not for their
birth but for their age, their personal merit, or any other
standard which may be chosen, not shutting out the blind
working of the lot. But, though the two ideas are in this
way perfectly distinct, they have a great tendency in practice
to run into one another. Wherever a noble class, whatever
may be its origin, is acknowledged at all, it always has a
tendency to win for itself, if not a legal, at least a practical,
preference for posts of authority. In fact, this voluntary
preference for certain families in the disposal of elective
offices is one of several ways in which nobility has grown up.
It is the most usual way in which what we may call a
secondary nobility grows up, after an earlier and immemorial
nobility has lost its privileges. A nobility of birth, of whose
origin no account can be given, but which must be accepted
as one of the primary facts of political history, makes way for
a nobility of office, which again in its turn grows into a
nobility of birth. Of this process history supplies many
cases, and the rule applies equally when the offices which are
the source of nobility are bestowed by the gift of the King
and when they are bestowed by the choice of the people.
Of the latter process the most illustrious example is the way
in which at Rome, after the legal privileges of the patricians
had ceased, there arose a new nobility composed of patricians
and plebeians alike. We see the same thing in our own
land in the way in which the immemorial nobility of the
Eorls gave way to the later official nobility of the Thegns,
and that in which the nobility of the Thegns gave way to
another form of official nobility in the modern peerage.
Both these cases agree in being cases of a later nobility
supplanting an earlier one. But exactly the same process
160 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES user.
may be gone through when a nobility is formed for the first
time. And it was in this way that the constitutions of not a
few city commonwealths, that of Venice itself at their head,
changed step by step from democracies into oligarchies (l).
The different ways in which a noble class has arisen in
various nations and cities within historical times may thus
help us to make some probable guesses as to the origin of
nobility in those cases where nobility is strictly immemorial.
But we cannot get beyond probable guesses. In a great
number of cases nobility is strictly immemorial. We see a
distinction within the class of freemen, a distinction which
marks out certain families as holding a higher rank than the
rest of their fellows, in the very earliest glimpses which we
get of the political constitution of the commonwealth. It is
so in all the three great cases with which we are mainly
concerned. We cannot tell what was the origin of the
peculiar privileges which belonged to an Athenian Eupatrid,
to a Roman Patrician, or to an English Eorl. We may
conjecture, we may theorize, we may even infer with a high
degree of probability, but we cannot dogmatically assert (2).
All that we can say is that, in the first glimpses which we
get of Grecian, Italian, and Teutonic history, we see the
distinction between the noble and the common freeman at
least as clearly marked as the distinction between the
common freeman and the classes which were beneath him.
I speak thus vaguely, because, for our present purpose, we
may put together all who stand below the rank of the
common freeman, from the mere personal slave upwards. I
need hardly say that, in all discussions of this kind, slavery
is to be taken for granted. Slavery has been the common
law of all times and places till, within a few centuries past,
it has, among most of the nations of the Western Aryan
stock, either died out or been formally abolished (3). And
we must further remember what the earliest form of slavery,
before slavery has been aggravated by the slave trade, really
is. The prisoner of war who, according to the military code
vi CLASSES BETWEEN THE SLAVE AND FREEMAN 161
of a rude age, might lawfully be put to death the criminal
who has forfeited his life to the laws of the State of which he
is a member is allowed, whether out of mercy or out of
covetousness, to exchange death for life in bondage. Then
the family feeling, so strong in setting up one stock, steps in
no less strongly for the pulling down of another, and the
man who has forfeited his own freedom is held to have
forfeited the freedom of his children also. Thus arises the
class of personal slaves, mere chattels either of the common-
wealth or of an individual master. And it is no less easy to
understand how, under the different circumstances of different
tribes and cities, other classes may arise whose condition is
better than that of the mere slave, but still is not equal to
that of the least distinguished among the class that is fully
free. Of course I am here speaking of personal, not of
political, freedom. In the sense in which I now use the
words " fully free," a Venetian cittadino, a Lacedaemonian
xepioiKos, was as fully free as if he had a voice in the govern-
ment of the commonwealth. He was subject to laws which
he had no voice in making; he had to obey magistrates
whom he had no voice in choosing ; but he had no personal
master either in the commonwealth or in any of its members.
I am now speaking of the various degrees of personal depend-
ence, freedmen, lUi, villains, and so forth, who hold a place
between that of the mere slave and that of the lowest full
freeman (4). Such classes may be formed in various ways,
by raising the slave, by pressing down the smaller freemen,
by admitting strangers or conquered enemies to a state
intermediate between mere bondage and full freedom. Such
classes have been formed in these various ways within
historical times, and we may reasonably conjecture that the
same processes went on before written history began. But
we cannot do more than conjecture. The threefold distinc-
tion between the noble, the common freeman, and the classes
below the common freeman is one of the primary facts with
which we start alike in Greece, in Italy, and among our own
forefathers (5). The fact is a matter of history; its causes
162 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
we can at the most explain only by reasoning from analogies
and survivals.
A class of nobles is clearly implied in the description of
the Teutonic nations given by Tacitus, even though we
explain the word principes of elective chiefs (6), who however
would pretty certainly be, as a rule, chosen from among the
members of the noble order. And the threefold division of
the noble, the common freeman, and the unfree, appears,
sometimes drawn out in a formal manner, in many of the
earliest records jof our race. We find it in its most marked
form in the Scandinavian legend which makes the mythical
forefathers of the three classes, Jarl, Karl, and Thrall, the
offspring of three distinct acts of creation on the part of the
Gods (7). Among ourselves we find from the very beginning,
Eorl and Ceorl, gentle and simple, as an exhaustive division
of the free population. It is plain that the distinction was
thoroughly well marked and was universally understood.
And yet it is utterly impossible to say in what the privileges
of the Eorlas consisted. There is nothing to make us think
that they were oppressive ; they may well have been purely
honorary. But all analogy and probability would lead us to
think that the Eorlas would have a practical preference, a
preference which might even be practically exclusive, in the
choice of leaders both in peace and war, just as the noblest
among the noble, the kingly house, had an exclusive prefer-
ence for the post of the highest leader of all. The same
marked distinction of a noble class meets us equally in our
pictures of the earliest Greek society, and we find the same
distinction living on into the historic ages. In the Greek
commonwealth of which we know most, that of Athens, our
earliest historical picture sets before us the rule of the
nobles, the Eupatrids, as an exclusive and oppressive oligarchy.
The harshness of its rule was first modified by the reforms
of Solon, and all traces of ancient distinctions were swept
away by the later reform of Aristeide's. We have no historical
account of the origin of the distinction which parted off the
Eupatrid gentes at Athens from the excluded plebeian mass.
vi BREAKING DOWN OF ARISTOCEACY AT ATHENS 163
But the whole circumstances of the story may lead us to
think that in this case the patriciate was a body of old
citizens, as opposed to the new citizens who had gradually
settled around them. In the history of a city, when either
history or legend traces it up to its first beginnings, there
is commonly a stage in which new comers are freely welcomed
to all the rights of citizenship, which is followed by a stage
in which those rights are found to be far too precious to be
thus given away at random. The first stage is well set forth
in the Roman story by the legend of the Asylum of Romulus.
The second stage is most probably marked by the exclusive
dominion of the Athenian Eupatrids and the Roman
Patricians. The original citizens have kept all privileges
to themselves, and have thus become an aristocratic order
in the midst of the unprivileged body of plebeians which
has gradually gathered round them. To break down, step
by step, all traces of this original inequality was the work
of the founders of the democracy. But here again we may
mark the characteristic difference between Athens and
Europe. At Athens all distinctions of the kind were utterly
swept away ; every trace of inequality was wiped out ; every
political office without exception was thrown open to every
citizen. The Eupatrid gentes remained as religious and
social unions, cherishing the sacred traditions which each
traced up to its legendary patriarch. Some special priestly
offices still remained hereditary in particular families. But
every office which carried with it any shred of political
power was open to every citizen without distinction of birth
and fortune. Yet it is no less true that, long after the
establishment of the pure and perfect democracy, the
Assembly, which disposed of every office according to its
sovereign will, did, as a rule, choose men of the ancient houses
to direct the counsels and command the armies of the
commonwealth. No more speaking proof can be found of that
inherent influence of birth and wealth, which survives the
wiping out of all legal distinctions, an influence which
legislation cannot give and which legislation by itself cannot
164 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
take away. The people, of its own will, placed at its head
men of the same class as those who in the earlier state of
things had ruled it against its will. Perikles, Nikias, Alki-
biades, were men widely differing in character, widely
differing in their relations to the popular government. But
all alike were men of ancient birth, who, as men of ancient
birth, found their way, almost as a matter of course, to those
high places of the State to which Kleon found his way
only by a strange freak of fortune.
At Rome we find quite another story. There, no less
than at Athens, the moral influence of nobility survived
its legal privileges ; but, more than this, the legal privileges
of the elder nobility were never wholly swept away, and the
inherent feeling of respect for illustrious birth called into
being a younger nobility by its side. At Athens one stage
of reform placed a distinction of wealth instead of a distinction
of birth : another stage swept away the distinction of wealth
also. But the reform, at each of its stages, was general :
it affected all offices alike, save those sacred offices which
still remained the special heritage of certain sacred families.
At Rome the change was done bit by bit. No one law
threw open all offices to plebeians. One by one, this
and that office was thrown open ; but some offices were
never made the subject of any such special enactment ; those
offices therefore seemed the exclusive possession of the
patricians. Among the priestly offices, the Pontificate, an
office held for life and which was indirectly of high political
importance, was thrown open to plebeians, and was bestowed,
like the yearly magistracies, by the election of the people.
So the augurship, as all the world knows, was held by the
plebeian Cicero. But the Flamens, officers whose religious
sanctity was great but whose political importance was small,
remained to the last exclusively patrician. And among
temporal magistracies, Curule ^Ediles, Praetors, Consuls,
Censors, and Dictators, might all freely be plebeians; but
that occasional office in which, at moments few and far
between, the ancient kingship again rose visibly to light
vi NEW NOBILITY OF OFFICE AT ROME 165
was never opened to the Commons. Not only was the
Interrex to the last an exclusively patrician officer, but
in his election none but the patrician Senators had a share.
An Interregnum was, in the fully developed commonwealth,
so rare an event that it perhaps never suggested itself to the
mind of any reformer to bring forward a special enactment
decreeing that a plebeian might be Interrex (8). And, in
default of such special enactment, the office would necessarily
remain confined to patricians, just as much as the consulship
had been before the Licinian Laws. This way of doing
things bit by bit, and the occasional anomalies to which
it gives birth, is eminently characteristic of the Roman
constitution, just as it is of our own. But it stands in
marked opposition to the symmetrical democracy of Athens.
At Rome again we may mark, what we have no sign of at
Athens, but what has a perfect parallel among ourselves, the
growth of a new nobility of office after the exclusive privi-
leges of the old patriciate had come to an end. The Roman
Plebs, so largely composed of the inhabitants of allied and
conquered cities who had been admitted in a mass to the
plebeian franchise, naturally contained many families which
were, in wealth and in nobility of descent, the equals of the
proudest patricians. Such a class as this could hardly have
existed, at least not in anything like the same degree, in a
Commons like that of Athens. After the union of the Attic
towns, the civic territory of Athens never grew, and her
Commons must have been mainly formed of settlers in the
city itself. We therefore find nothing at Athens answering
to the plebeian houses of Lutatius, Pompeius, and Octavius,
of Porcius of Tusculum and Tullius of Arpinum. When the
great magistracies were opened to the plebeians, it was mainly
by plebeians of this class that they were filled, and out of
them, combined with the old patricians, a new nobility arose.
Every descendant of a curule magistrate, whether patrician
or plebeian, was nobilis ; he had the jus imaginum, the right
of exhibiting the images of his forefathers who had held
high office, the number of which formed the measure of his
166 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
nobility. Thus grew up a new noble class, clothed with no
legal privilege, but which gradually became as well marked
in practice as ever the old patricians had been, and which
looked on the great offices of the commonwealth as no less
its own exclusive right. In the later days of the common-
wealth the consulship of a new man, a man whose forefathers
had never held curule rank, though forbidden by no law, and
though the new man might be Caius Marius himself, seemed
as strange as the consulship of a Lutatius or a Licinius had
once been (9). The nobility of birth had given way to the
nobility of office, and the nobility of office had grown into a
new nobility of birth.
The parallel to this change in our own early history is to
be found in the way in which the old immemorial nobility of
the Eorlas, the origin and the nature of whose privileges are
both shrouded in the mist of the earliest antiquity, gave way
to the new nobility of office, the nobility of the Thegnas.
The Eorlas, a nobility patrician in the strictest sense, gave
way in England to a class who owed their rank to the favour
of the King, just as at Rome the patricians gave way to a
class who owed their rank to the favour of the people. But
the origin of the Thegns itself supplies one of our best
analogies, if not with Roman, at least with Achaian antiquity.
This analogy is one of which I have so often spoken else-
where that I may perhaps be forgiven if I now pass it over
in a few words. The Comitatus stands out in Tacitus as one
of the primitive institutions of our race, and the Gesiftas,
in later phrase the Thegnas, of Teutonic antiquity, the per-
sonal following of the King, Ealdorman, or other chief, form
the exact parallels of the trcupot and OepaTTovres of the
Homeric Achaians (10). The parallel here is as close as a
parallel can be ; only it does not seem that in early Greece
the institution of the Comitatus ever rose to the same
political importance which it reached in England. There is
no sign that those companions of the chiefs who stand out
with such prominence in Homer became the source of any
of the later forms of nobility which we find in the Greek
vi THE COMITATUS 167
cities. There is nothing to make us think that the Eupatrid
Houses of Athens traced their descent in any special way
from the cratpot and Ofpa-ovrts of Theseus or Menestheus.
The comitatus is, in truth, an institution which is not well
suited for the atmosphere of a city life. It takes personal
chieftainship for granted ; it needs the personal chief to
gather around. But the spirit of a civic aristocracy tends to
equality among its own members ; it surrounds the whole
ruling body with a dependent class, but it does not love to
surround particular men with personal dependents. The
same causes which made kingship come so soon to an end
in the Greek commonwealths hindered the comitatus, the
natural offshoot of kingship, from filling any great place in
later Greek history. Among the Teutonic nations the case
was widely different. As kingship grew and flourished, the
comitatus grew and flourished with it, till in some lands the
King was for a season overshadowed by his own following.
The comitatus, in one shape or another, became the root of
every form of nobility in Western Europe, remembering
that, among the nobilities of Western Europe, one order as
proud as any of them, the civic patriciate of the island Rome
on the Venetian lagunes, is not to be reckoned. In our own
land the King's Thegns became really the ruling order, till
the older nobility of the Eorlas was forgotten, and their
name became confined to the rank next to the King, to the
great officers who in earlier days had borne the more ancient
title of Ealdormen ( 1 1 ). It shows how completely the notion
of personal service became the standard of the new nobility
that the word Thegn itself, in its first meaning simply servant,
came to have its later force of noble or gentle (12). What
went on in our own land went on also among our kinsfolk
beyond the sea. The companions, the antrustions, of the
Prankish Kings, changed step by step into the later nobility
of feudal vassals. Under the strong hand of the early
Karlings, the royal power kept its own, but presently, as
kingdoms split off from kingdoms, as offices changed into
fiefs, as the commonwealth changed into a society of Lords
168 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
and Vassals of various ranks, the sovereign became simply
the highest lord among them; the new nobility not only
supplanted the old, but it crushed alike the body of the
commonwealth and its head ; it trampled King and people
alike under foot (13). And it is worth noticing that, just at
the point of transition, when the old nobility was sinking
and when the new nobility was as yet hardly rising, there
was a time when birth seems to have been less thought of
than it ever was before or after, and when men of lowly
origin seem to have risen with unusual ease (14). But when
the time came for the growth of the new nobility, it grew
faster, and it more utterly ate out all earlier and healthier
elements than it did in England. In England, under our
native Kings, the tendency was to closer union, while in
Gaul the tendency was to separation. And, if there had
been any tendencies the other way, the strong hand of the
Conqueror, even in the act of giving feudal ideas and feudal
relations a wider scope, took care that they should never
endanger either the power of the King or the security of the
Kingdom.
If we turn to Rome, we shall find there but small traces
of the Comitatus in its Achaian or its Teutonic shape. It may
be that the devotion of the Romans to the commonwealth,
and to the commonwealth only, hindered the growth of any
institution founded on a tie purely personal, at all events
between men of equal or nearly equal rank, like Achilleus
and Patroklos, like Brihtnoth and the Thegns who fell around
him at Maldon. Yet we may perhaps see something like it
in the special bodyguard of noble youths which legend places
around the early Kings and Dictators, around Romulus in
the spot which was to be Rome's comitia, and around Aulus
Postumius on the day of slaughter by Regillus (15). The
client relation too springy from the same personal tie as the
comitatus ; only there is the wide difference that in this case
the client stands at an unpassable distance of rank beneath
his patron. In the Hellenic and the Teutonic system advance
in age and exploits might raise the man to the level of his
vi LATER DEVELOPEMENTS OF THE COMITATUS .169
lord ; but nothing could raise the client to the level of his
patron. No patrician ever stooped to the client relation ; we
may doubt whether, in the early days of the commonwealth,
any full citizen did. Yet the lowly clientage of the Roman
patrician and the noble following of the Hellenic or Teutonic
leader may really come from the same source, and may both
alike be parts of the common primaeval heritage. If this be
so, it shows how easily institutions which are in their origin
the same may, under different circumstances, develope in
different directions. There is something romantic, chivalrous,
sentimental none of these are good words to express the
idea, but I know of none better in both the early Hellenic
and the early Teutonic state of society. Of this there is no
trace in the more purely political society of Rome. It is the
same kind of difference as that which I have already noticed
between the Roman King and his Hellenic or Teutonic
brother. The difference is no doubt partly owing to the fact
that our first glimpses both of Hellenic and of Teutonic life
belong to an earlier stage than our first glimpses of Roman
life. But this is not all. The institution took utterly different
courses among the three nations, according to the several
circumstances of each. In Teutonic Europe it grew and
nourished ; it became the groundwork of nobility ; it became
one main element in producing the whole fabric of what, for
want of a better word, we may call feudal society. It grew
and flourished, because the personal chieftainship which it
implies grew and flourished. It reached its highest point of
external splendour, though its real spirit had already passed
away, at the coronation of a mediaeval Emperor, when Kings
and Electors did their personal service to the anointed Lord
of the World. In Greece, on the other hand, it died out as
kingship died out. Achilleus and Menelaos had their Tkcgnas
and Gesi'&as; none such surrounded Miltiades or Epamei-
nondas ; but we see them again in the Companions who fought
around the Macedonian Alexander (16). Under the stern,
practical, political, mind of Rome, the institution took another
and a worse form. The general idea which forms the ground-
170- MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
work of the whole thing survived. There was still the
relation of faithful service on one side, of faithful protection
on the other ; but they appear in a shape from which all that
made the Comitatus the groundwork of modern society has
wholly passed away. The client is a true Thegn ; the patron
is a true Hlaford : but his thegnship is of so literal and lowly
a kind as to be fit only for the freedman, the stranger, or at
most the citizen of the very lowest rank (17).
Out of this institution of the Comitatus grew the nobility
of modern Europe, and specially that Old-English nobility of
Thegns which supplanted the older nobility of the Eorls.
In England, as at Rome, a nobility of office supplanted the
nobility of birth : only in the commonwealth of Rome it was
the nobility of office bestowed by the people, while in the
English kingdom it was the nobility of office bestowed by the
King. The King could not in strictness make an Eorl, because
he could not change a man's forefathers, but he could make a
Thegn, as he now can make a Duke. Now what was it that hin-
dered the nobility thus formed from becoming a real nobility ?
What saved us from a noblesse or Adel in the foreign sense ?
For I repeat that in England we have, in strictness, no
nobility ; we have no class which keeps on from generation to
generation in the possession of exclusive privileges, either
political or social. Our peerage is not a nobility in the sense
in which nobility is understood in foreign lands. It is not
only a rank to which any man may rise, but it is a rank
from which the descendants of the hereditary holders must
as a matter of course come down. Political privilege belongs
only to one member of a family at a time ; honorary pre-
cedence does not go beyond one or two generations. This is
not nobility in the sense which that word bears in those
lands where all the descendants of a noble are noble for ever.
Why then did not the Thegnhood of England grow into a
nobility such as that which in other lands grew out of the
same elements ? One answer doubtless is that the Norman Con-
quest thrust down the native Thegnhood, the growing nobility
of England, to a secondary place in the social and political scale.
vi NATURE OF THE ENGLISH PEERAGE 171
In so doing it wrought for us one of the greatest of blessings.
It gave us a middle class spread over the whole country.
While in most continental lands it was only in the chartered
towns there was any class intermediate between the noble
and the peasant, often none between the noble and the
villain, in England the ancient lords of the soil, thus thrust
down into the second rank, formed that great body of
freeholders, the stout gentry and yeomanry of England, who
were for so many ages the strength of the land. But why
did not a nobility of the foreign type grow up among the
Norman Conquerors themselves ? That great law of William
which made every man in the land the man of the King had
much to do with it ; but paradoxical as it may sound, I con-
ceive that the very power and dignity of the peerage has had
a good deal to do with it also. Elsewhere nobility was pri-
marily a matter of rank and privilege, with which political
power might or might not be connected. But in an English
peerage the primary idea is political power ; rank and privi-
lege are a mere adjunct. The peer does not hold a mere
rank which he can share with his descendants ; he holds an
office, which passes to his next heir when he dies, but which
he cannot share with any man while he lives. The peer
then, not a mere noble, but a legislator, a counsellor, and a
judge, holds a distinct place in the State which his children
can no more share with him than any one else. Hence in
England we have but two classes, Peers and Commoners,
those who hold the office and authority of a peer and those
who do not. The children of a peer come under this last
head as much as other men ; they are therefore Commoners.
The very existence of the peerage of itself hinders the exist-
ence of a nobility in the true sense of the word.
If then the Norman Conquest had never happened, it is
most likely that the native Thegnhood of England would
have grown up into a nobility of the foreign type. If the
wisdom of the Norman Conqueror had not preserved our
ancient institutions, if it had not thus been possible that the
House of Lords of our later constitution could grow out of
172 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
the Witenagemot of our earlier constitution, it is most likely
that a nobility of the foreign type would have grown up
among the Norman conquerors themselves. As it is, we
have had no nobility, but we have had a peerage ; I might
almost say that we have had an aristocracy. I say almost
and not altogether, because England is a kingdom and not a
republic. I once heard it said that in a republic there
could be no aristocracy except " an aristocracy of wealth." I
treasured up the saying as one of the shallowest that I ever
heard. I put it alongside of another saying, the saying of
one who argued that ancient Bern must have been a demo-
cracy because it was a republic. I should rather say that it
is only in a republic that a real aristocracy can exist.
Corinth and Rome, Venice and Genoa, Bern and Niirnberg,
bear out what I am saying. The nobles who cringed at the
court of the Great King at Paris, or at the lesser courts of
his imitators in the petty despotisms of Germany and Italy,
had no right to the name of an aristocracy. Aristocracy is
the rule of the best ; they were not the best, and they did
not rule. But in aristocratic commonwealths, in the proud
city which floats on the waves of the Hadriatic, in the
hardly less proud city which looks forth from her peninsula
on the snows of her once vassal mountains, in Byzantine
Venice and Teutonic Bern, there was for ages something
which it needed no great straining of language to call the
rule of the best. Morally best indeed I do not say, but best
so far as this, that, narrow as was the government of those
commonwealths, fenced in as the power of the State was
within a circle of exclusive houses, those houses at least
knew how to rule, and how to hand on the craft of the ruler
from generation to generation. Their rule was in itself
unjust, because it was exclusive, narrow, and selfish. It was
often oppressive ; but it was never oppressive with the
frantic and purposeless oppression of many a personal despot.
It was in some respects more galling than the yoke of a
despot, but it was so simply because the yoke of one master
is in itself less galling than the yoke of many. But, as
vi NATURE OF ARISTOCRATIC COMMONWEALTHS 173
regarded the members of the ruling order, no other form of
government supplied such a school of rulers. The patrician
was born to rule ; but he was born to rule, not according to
his own caprice, but according to the laws of the ruling order
of which he was only one member among many ( 1 8). Such
a system tended to dwarf the powers of men of the very
highest order ; but it tended at once to raise and to regulate
the powers of all but the very highest class. It checked the
growth of heroes and of exceptionally great men, but it
fostered the growth of a succession of men who were great
enough for their own position, but not too great. In an
aristocratic commonwealth there is no room for Perikles ;
there is no room for the people that hearkened to Perikles ;
but in men of the second order, skilful conservative adminis-
trators, men able to work the system which they find
established, no form of government is so fertile. But such a
commonwealth, where the power of strengthening the ruling
order by new blood either does not exist or is but sparingly
exercised, commonly degenerates in the end, though the
causes of the degeneracy are not exactly the same as those
which bring about the degeneracy of democratic common-
wealths. The day of glory of the aristocratic commonwealth
may be longer than the day of glory of a democracy, but its
decay will be even more hopeless. As its ruling families die
out, as those which survive lose their strength two processes
which must sooner or later affect every exclusive body the
dregs of an oligarchy become even baser than the dregs of a
democracy. There was at least some difference in dignity
and courage between the fall of Venice and the fall of
Unterwalden.
I maintain then that aristocracy, in its true sense, is
something essentially republican, something to which a
monarchic state can present only a faint approach. So far
as a monarchic state is aristocratic, as our own country has
been at some times, it can only be in proportion to the
degree that, through the lessening of the powers both of the
Crown and of the people, it approaches to the nature of a
174 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
commonwealth in the hands of certain ruling families. A
government like the old French monarchy, where a noble
class has hateful social and civil privileges, but where those
privileges carry with them no political power, is not aristo-
cratic in any political sense. Where an external power, that
of the King, can ennoble, and where that external power is
politically supreme, there is no aristocracy in the sense which
the word bore in the mouth of a Greek thinker. Poland,
and Sweden at some stages of its history, came nearer to
aristocratic government than any other states which acknow-
ledged a King. But a Chian or a Venetian aristocrat would
hardly have owned their constitutions as kindred with his
own. The true aristocracy, the aristocracy of a common-
wealth, may, as we have seen, arise in several ways. A body
of older citizens, like the original patriciate of Rome, may
keep for a time or for ever all the powers of the common-
wealth in their own hands to the exclusion of the Commons
who grow up around them. In a city of late foundation,
like Bern, where there is a noble element in the population
from the beginning, a patriciate may grow up which may
gradually draw all power into its own hands. Or, without
any reference to earlier nobility, a patriciate may, as at
Venice, arise among the citizens themselves, simply by the
process of confining office, whether by law or only in practice,
to the descendants of certain families which have gained
exclusive possession of it. But, when a patriciate has arisen
by any of these means, it seems essential to its being that no
new members can be admitted to the body except by its
own act. Few aristocracies have been so exclusive as never
to admit any new houses or individuals to a share in their
own privileges. The Claudian house at Rome, the house of
Morlot at Bern, were strangers who were received not only to
citizenship but to nobility. And at Venice and Nurnberg
new families were, down to the last days of the common-
wealth, received from time to time within the pale of the
ruling order (19). But in all these cases the aristocracy
enlarged itself by its own act and deed, by the exercise of its
vi RIGHT OF THE AVENGER OF BLOOD 175
sovereign power. When the noble class can be enlarged by
the external will of a personal sovereign, it shows that the
noble class is not, exclusively and by itself, the ruling body
in the State. In a State which has a King at its head, there
may be a peerage ; there may be a nobility ; there cannot, if
words are used in their true meanings, be an aristocracy.
This last lecture must be a desultory one. I have now
only to point out some of the analogies which are to be
found among the particular institutions of the nations
with which we are concerned. Let us take for instance
the institution of the wergild, the price of blood. This
is one of those institutions which we have every reason
to believe are common to the whole Aryan family, and
which may indeed be traced back beyond the bounds of
the Aryan family. That criminal jurisprudence which in
highly civilized societies takes so elaborate a shape grows
out of that desire of private vengeance which it is one
of its main objects in its fully developed growth to check,
and even to punish. A man is slain; the passion of
vengeance is awakened; the right the duty, as it seems
in their eyes of avenging the slain man naturally falls
to those who have lost most by his death, to his immediate
kinsfolk, the men of his own family or household. As
the social and political circle widens, the right and the
duty are handed over from the mere household to the
gens, the tribe, and the nation. And at each stage, as
the right and duty of vengeance is thus handed over to
men who, at each stage, are less and less stirred by the mere
passion, vengeance loses more and more of its character
as vengeance, and puts on more and more of the character
which punishment bears in fully civilized societies, a pre-
ventive and corrective interference of the public authority
on behalf of the public good. So with other wrongs ; in
a state of nature each man who is wronged must right
himself by the strong hand ; each man has the right of
war and peace in his own person. Again, as the social
176 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
and political circle widens, the wrong of each man becomes
something which does not concern himself only, but con-
cerns also the gens, the tribe, and the nation. Thus, by
slow degrees, the right of each man to defend himself
against a wrong-doer grows into the right of the State
to defend itself against the wrong doings of its own members
by legal punishment and against the wrong doings of other
states by regular war. But it is only in highly civilized
communities that the right of private vengeance is wholly
taken away, and that the right of defence that is the
right of private warfare is kept within the narrowest
bounds of undoubted necessity. Our law, the law of every
country, allows that there are extreme cases in which private
homicide in the form of self-defence is not a crime. That
is to say, it is the duty of the citizen to give up to the
Commonwealth the duty of his protection whenever the
Commonwealth can protect him : but, in any case where the
Commonwealth cannot protect him, the natural right revives,
and it is allowed that he may protect himself. But it
is only in the highest state of civilization that the natural
rights of private vengeance and private war can be cut
down within this very narrow limit. For a long time
the Commonwealth steps in, not so much to forbid as to
regulate and soften the natural right which it admits.
The Mosaic Law fully admits the right of the avenger
of blood : all that it does is to set apart certain cities of
refuge whither the slayer may flee and be safe. If he is
overtaken before he can reach the asylum, the law does
nothing to stay the arm of the avenger (20). Our own early
laws, the early laws of most nations, do not wholly forbid a
man to help himself with the strong hand ; they only limit
the right to certain extreme cases, to certain specially inexpi-
able wrongs, to certain cases where legal means have been
tried and have failed. By the law alike of Athens, of Rome,
and of England, a man might without crime slay the defiler
of the purity of his own household (21): by the law alike
of Athens and of Rome every citizen might slay the Tyrant
vi THE WAGER OF BATTLE 177
who had trampled the Commonwealth under foot and had
made law powerless to defend or to avenge (22). In cases
of wrongs between man and man the State steps in as
an arbitrator before it steps in as a judge. It tries to
persuade the injured man to abate somewhat of his wrath
against the wrong-doer ; it strives to make him accept
something less than the full satisfaction of his vengeance ;
it gradually fixes the amount of compensation with which
the injured man shall be satisfied. But it is only when
civilization has reached a high pitch indeed that the
vengeance of the injured man is made wholly to give way to
the remedial interference of the State, that every crime
is looked on as a crime against the Commonweath, whose
punishment is the business of the Commonwealth and of
the Commonwealth alone.
The appeal of murder and of other crimes, with its
accompaniment the wager of battle, was an instance of the
regulated right of private war which, though it had long
fallen into disuse, was actually removed from our Statute-
Book only within the present century. Here the right
of vengeance was recognized, though it was recognized in
such a form as gave it somewhat of the nature of a legal
trial. The appeal was brought by the injured person in his
own name; he sought for redress for the private wrong,
and, as the one who had suffered for the wrong, he had
the right of pardoning the offender. And this mode of
procedure went on alongside of that with which alone we
are now familiar, that in which the crime is dealt with as a
wrong done to the King as head of the Commonwealth, in
which the prosecution is made in the name of the King,
and in which the King alone has the right of pardon (23).
Of that limiting of the right of private war which took the
form of judicial combat, and which was afterwards corrupted
back again into the baser form of the private duel, we find
few or no traces in early Greek or Roman antiquity. This
is probably another result of the quicker developement of
things in the city commonwealths of Greece and Italy, as
178 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
compared with the tribal system of our own forefathers.
But the old Roman Law allowed the principle of talio, the
Mosaic doctrine of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,
and it recognized the right of the injured person either to
exact the penalty or to admit of some form of compromise
(24). This brings us at once to the doctrine of the wergild,
a doctrine common to the Greece of Homer and to the
Germany of Tacitus, and which, we cannot doubt, is a portion
of the primitive Aryan inheritance. The wergild is an
appeal from the passion of vengeance to a less fierce, if more
sordid, passion, to the love of gain. The man who has
forfeited his life to the vengeance of the injured kinsman
may perhaps stay his vengeance by offering gifts in its
stead; he may buy back his own life at a price. In the
Homeric times, the man whose son or father had been slain
might perhaps was bound to receive the gifts of atone-
ment offered by the slayer, and the slayer, when he had paid
those gifts, could dwell in peace among his people (25). It
seems here to be implied that custom at least demanded
that the proffered atonement should be accepted. This was
an advance on the kindred war-law of the same age, according
to which the conqueror might accept the bondage of the
conquered instead of his blood, but might also slay him
without reproach (26).
The next step plainly is for the Commonwealth to step
in, for the law to enforce the duty of accepting the atone-
ment, and perhaps, as another step, to regulate the amount
of the atonement, instead of leaving the injured man to
wring what he could out of the wrong-doer. In our earliest
glimpse of Teutonic law we seem to see a further advance ;
the crime is recognized as a wrong done to the commonwealth
as well as to the individual, and the King or other head of
the State receives his share of the atonement as well as the
kindred of the slain man (27). In our own ancient laws the
subject is gone into with the utmost minuteness. The
ancient talio has given way to an elaborate scale of prices,
according to which every form of bodily injury, small or
vi THE WERGILD IN OLD-ENGLISH LAW 179
great, may be atoned for by the payment of the appointed
sum in money (28). And the penalty to be paid by the
manslayer is regulated with a minute regard to the rank
of the person slain and to his supposed consequent value.
The life of every man, like the oath of every man, was of
some value ; but the life and the oath of the man of higher
rank was of more value than the life and the oath of the
man of lower rank (29). The price of one Thegn was equal
to that of several churls, and so on in an ascending scale,
till we reach the mighty penalty which alone could atone for
the death of the King. Mark too that differences of race
come in as well as differences of rank ; in the lands where
the Englishman and the Briton dwelled side by side, the
blood of the Englishman was rated at a higher price than
the blood of the Briton of his own rank (30). Mark too
that care was taken that the penalty should be paid to
those who, in the eye of the law, had undergone the wrong ;
the price of the slave was paid to his master ; the price of
the freeman was paid to his kinsfolk; but the price of
kingly blood was not only heavier than the price of other
men, but it had to be paid twice over, to the kinsfolk who
had lost one of their house and to the commonwealth which
had lost its leader. And in this last case the payment of
the wergild might rise to the rank of an affair between
commonwealth and commonwealth. War between sovereign
states is simply the natural right of self-defence, which still
goes on in a state of things where the contending parties
have no common superior to decide with authority between
them. But the vengeance of the Commonwealth, like the
vengeance of the individual, may be bought off; and we
have at least two cases in early English history, where an
invader, seeking vengeance for the blood of a royal kinsman,
stayed his hand on the payment of the appointed wergild
which custom had fixed for the shedding of royal blood (31).
No feature of our ancient jurisprudence plays a more
important part than this in our earlier laws ; none has so
utterly vanished without leaving any trace of itself in
180 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
modern legislation. As the Commonwealth, and the King
as its head, have taken the place of the actual sufferer or
his kinsman, as in criminal as distinguished from civil
jurisprudence the idea of compensation has given way to
the idea of punishment whether remedial or vindictive, the
notion of vengeance to be bought off by a payment has
utterly died away. Yet it may be well to remember that,
as late as the fifteenth century, a private dispute between
two English noblemen was decided by open warfare on a
battle-field in Gloucestershire, and the wrong done to the
wife of one of them by the slaughter of her husband was in
the end made up by a payment which in earlier times would
have passed for his wergitd (32).
In this case we have, beyond doubt, an institution which
is at once Hellenic and Teutonic, and which is at once
Hellenic and Teutonic, not by borrowing or imitation, not
by like causes producing like effects, but because Hellen
and Teuton alike inherited it as part of a common stock,
a stock, it would seem, not even peculiar to the Aryan
family. We may end our survey by looking back to some
points which have more connexion with the subject of the
early part of this lecture. We may end. with a glance at
some of the striking analogies which are to be seen in the
political relations of states in ages far distant from one
another, and which, there can be no doubt, are to be ex-
plained, not by common inheritance from a common stock,
but by the operation of like causes leading to like effects.
We have seen that there is every reason to believe that
the distinctions within the Commonwealth, the noble, the
freeman, and the slave perhaps also some of those inter-
mediate stages which part off the mere slave from the
common freeman are really part of the common Aryan
heritage. At least we cannot go back, by the help either
of history or of legend, to any stage either of Greek, of
Teutonic, or of Italian history in which those distinctions
are not to be found. But the relations which rise up
.vi HEREDITARY BURGHERSHIP 181
between the Commonwealth and those, whether individuals
or commonwealths, which lie outside its pale, though they
present a series of most striking and most instructive analo-
gies, are necessarily the results of the circumstances under
which each commonwealth finds itself, and can have no
claim to be looked on as parts of the common heritage.
We have already seen that, as cities began to arise in the
Teutonic lands, and as, through the decline of the royal
power, those cities began to approach to the character of
independent commonwealths, many of the phenomena of
the old city system of Greece were called again into being.
Many of those analogies were to be seen in full force within
the memory of men now living ; some of them have lingered
on to our own time. There is commonly a stage in the
history of a city Commonwealth, that stage which in the
Roman legend is represented by the Asylum of Romulus,
in which the new-born city is liberal of its franchise to
strangers who are ready to throw in their lot to the new
community, and so to add to its strength. Then comes a
stage in which citizenship begins to be too highly valued
to be given to all who ask for it, when the original citizens
shrink up into an oligarchic body, with a large mass around
them, who share only an imperfect citizenship, or no citizen-
ship at all. Gradually, as at Rome, or suddenly, as at
Athens, the unenfranchised or half enfranchised classes win
for themselves equality of rights with the old citizens, and
the work of Kleisthenes or Licinius is done. Or perhaps
no such revolution takes place; perhaps a change takes
place the other way, and the mass of the citizens gradually
lose the rights which they had once enjoyed. That is to
say, the Commonwealth developes either in an oligarchic or
in a democratic direction. But, in either case, a time comes
when its developement seems to stop, when the idea of any
general extension of citizenship is an idea which is no longer
heard of, when the civic franchise, aristocratic or democratic,
becomes an hereditary privilege which is at most doled out
now and then as a special favour, the reward of special merit.
182 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
Or perhaps, in a meaner state of things, it becomes a matter
of purchase and sale, and thereby of profit to the privileged
class. Thus there arises an excluded class, strangers in the
place where perhaps they were born, where their forefathers
may even have lived for several generations. Such a class
we have seen in the /zeYoiKoi of the ancient Greek cities ;
they might be seen, perhaps they may still be seen by way
of a feeble survival, in those whom many an English borough
distinguished from the hereditary freemen by the name of
foreigners (33). The two things are essentially the same,
differing only in the value of the franchise from which the
stranger is shut out. And that again depends on the differ-
ence between a community which forms a sovereign common-
wealth and one which, whatever its internal constitution
may be, is, as regards all national matters, merely part of a
greater whole. The fxeYoi/cos at Athens was shut out from
the privileges of a sovereign commonwealth, while he had
to bear burthens in which the hereditary burgher had no
share. He had no voice, he had no means of obtaining a
voice, in the affairs of the political society in which he lived.
But the foreigner in an English borough, whether the local
privileges from which he was shut out were precious or
worthless, lay under a disqualification which was purely
local. He lay under no disqualification as a member of the
Commonwealth at large ; if he had no share in the election
of the representatives of his own town, he could at any
moment, by buying a forty-shilling freehold, become an
elector of any county in England which he chose. And,
through later enactments, other franchises, the parliamentary
franchise among them, franchises dependent on residence
and careless about descent, have grown up by the side of
the old franchise of the hereditary freemen. And these new
franchises have become so much more valuable as to make
the old burghership seem contemptible. The freemen of an
English borough are in most places looked upon as an
inferior class; yet it is they who answer to the Athenian
Eupatrids and the Roman Patricians ; the other inhabitants
vi NIEDERGELASSENEN ANSWER TO HCTOIKOI 183
are but /UC'TOIKOI or plebeians by their side. The principle
is the same in both cases; mere residence gives no claim
to admission to the civic community, whether that civic
community be a sovereign commonwealth or the pettiest
municipality. In both cases the franchise, whatever it may
be worth and whatever it carries with it, can be had only
by the appointed means, means easier doubtless in most of
the English cases than they were in the analogous case in
Greece. Still in neither case does the civic franchise belong
to every man who chooses to go and dwell within the civic
boundary. It may not always be purely a matter of birth ;
but it is always something which cannot be taken up at
the mere will of the stranger. It always requires that
particular qualification which is fixed by the custom of
the civic community, be that qualification birth, marriage,
servitude, special purchase, or special grant.
All distinctions of this kind have, through later English
legislation, lost all practical importance, and they have
become mere materials for inquiries such as that on which
we are now engaged. But in another part of Europe, in the
land which among all modern states preserves to us at once
the most precious relics of the old Teutonic world and the
most striking analogies with the old Hellenic and Italian
world, a close parallel to this feature, as to so many other
features of Greek political life, is still to be seen in its
fulness. It is naturally among those cities and districts
which have grown into the Confederation of Switzerland
that we find the most instructive illustrations which modern
political life can give us of the working of city in many
cases we should rather say of village communities. The
Afiedei'gelassenen in Switzerland, those Swiss citizens who
are settled in Gemeinden or Communes parishes or Mark-
genossenschaftenof which they have not the hereditary
burghership, answer exactly to the Greek p^roucot. And, in
the late debates on the reform of the Federal Constitution,
many proposals were brought forward to remedy a state of
things by which a number not far short of half of the Swiss
184 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
people are, in many important respects, strangers in the
places where they themselves dwell, and where it may
happen that their forefathers have dwelt for many gener-
ations (34). But this state of things is the exact parallel
to those which we have just been speaking of in Greece and
in England. It is of the essence of a Gemeinde or commune,
of a borough or a village community, one perhaps owning
a considerable estate in folkland or ager publicus, that the
stranger should be admitted to membership of the community
only on such terms as the community itself may think good.
In a sovereign community the power thus to bind and loose
can be relaxed only by its own will and pleasure ; in a
community which forms part of a greater sovereign whole,
it may of course be modified or taken away by an act of the
supreme Legislature. In the old days of the Swiss Con-
federation, the days of the Staateribund, when there was no
common Federal Legislature or Executive, when no part of
the internal sovereignty of the Cantons had been given over
to any central power, the citizen of one Canton who settled
in another Canton^ must have been as strictly a fxcroiKos as
a Corinthian who settled at Athens. He had no voice either
in the cantonal or the communal affairs of the place in
which he lived, any more than if he had settled in a spot
beyond the bounds of the Confederation. The existing
Federal Constitution gives every Swiss citizen equal Federal
and Cantonal rights, in whatever part of the Confederation
he may settle. But communal matters are left to the
legislation of the Canton or of the commune itself; all that
the Federal Constitution provides is that the {JL&OLKOS shall
not be, as he was at Athens, subject to any special pcro&to?,
any special tax laid on the /^TGI/COS and in which the citizen
bears no share. The laws of different Cantons, the customs
of different communes, may of course differ on these points ;
some communes are more chary of granting or selling their
franchise than others; but everywhere the Niedergelassene
is still, in communal matters, a /xeroi/cos ; the mere fact of
residence and contribution to the local taxes no more gives
vi NATURE OF THE PERIOIKIC RELATION 185
him the fall communal franchise than it makes him a
freeman of an English borough. The two higher franchises,
those of the Confederation and the Canton, he enjoys as
fully as any native ; to the lower franchise of the commune
he can be admitted only by special grant or by the effect
of some special enactment.
In the like sort, as long as the old Confederation lasted,
some other features of old Greek and Italian political life
were still to be seen in all their fulness. If there still are
IJ.CTOIKOI in Switzerland, down to 1798 there were irepioiKoi.
Of course we may see a relation equivalent to the perioikic
relation whenever any state, be it Venice or England, holds
dependencies whose inhabitants have no voice in the general
government, especially if they have no- means of obtaining
that voice, even by taking up their abode in the ruling
country (35). But distance makes a great difference both
in the appearance and in the reality of things. We may
question the right by which Venice bore rule over Cyprus,
or that by which England bears rule over India. But,
granting that such rule exists, it is not to be expected that
the inhabitants of Cyprus or of India should have a voice in
the affairs of Venice or of England. The full nature of the
perioikic relation does not come out except in a state of
things where the name can be applied geographically as well
as politically, in those cases where the subjects really dwell
round about or near the home of their rulers. The dominions
of Venice on the mainland of Italy present an approach to
the old perioikic relation. Still the island city always
remained isolated from the Continent ; Venice never became
part of continental Venetia in the same sense in which
Florence was part of Tuscany or Bern part of the Lesser
Burgundy. It is in mediaeval Italy, in Switzerland down to
1798, and, to some extent, also among the free cities of
Germany, that we see the perioikic relation, just as it stood
between Sparta and the other Laconian towns. As Sparta
ruled over Amyklai and Epidauros Limera, so Florence ruled
over Pisa and Bern ruled over Lausanne. Nay more, a very
186 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
few years back, down to the last changes in Germany, the
cities of Liibeck and Hamburg held the small district of
Vierlande in Condominium (36). They held it in partner-
ship as a joint possession, the government of which might be
exercised conjointly or alternately as the ruling powers may
think fit. In the like sort, in the old state of things in
Switzerland, various districts were held, not only by this or
that Canton singly, but by two or more Cantons, or by all
the Cantons of the Confederation, in the same joint owner-
ship. And mark again that, in all these cases, the internal
constitution of the ruling State made no difference. As
Athens had her subjects though not strictly her we/uiotKoi
no less than Sparta, so democratic Uri had her own subjects,
and her share in the common subjects of the Confederation,
no less than aristocratic Bern. In all this we have a lively
image of the state of things in old Greece, except that I do
not remember that the condominium, the joint sovereignty
or rather the joint ownership, has its parallel there. This
fact is to be taken in connexion with a fact to which Mr.
Grote has called attention, that the acquisition of dominion
by purchase, so common in mediaeval history, is rare in the
history of Greece (37). I conceive the cause of the difference
to be that in old Greece and Italy the ideas of property and
government had not got mixed together in the way in which
they were mixed together in mediaeval times. The Roman
People might make itself the landowner of the soil of a
conquered commonwealth ; it might add the folkland of the
conquered to its own folkland, or it might part it out as
~booldand among its own citizens ; but the right of govern-
ment remained a distinct thing from the right of property.
It remained something which could not be, as in mediaeval
times, granted, sold, or enfeoffed, along with the land. But
we have seen how in mediaeval times, as the feudal idea took
root and grew, the right of government came to be looked on
as a property, while the possession of landed property came
to be looked on as carrying with it a kind of right of
government. When government was thus looked on as a
vi NOTION OF PROPERTY IN SOVEREIGNTY 187
possession, there seemed no reason why a rich commonwealth
might not buy the sovereign rights and powers of a spend-
thrift prince, just as it might buy his landed estate or his
manorial privileges. In this way, Bern and other cities
largely bought out the neighbouring territorial nobility,
besides often conquering them in warfare. The new corporate
lord, the Commonwealth, stepped into the place of the old
personal lord ; it was clothed with all his authority, and it
commonly contrived that the authority which thus passed to
it should grow, rather than lessen, in its hands. So, when
the same notion of property in sovereignty was fully estab-
lished, there was no reason why two or more commonwealths
might not hold the sovereignty of a town or district in
partnership, just as two or more personal owners might hold
a field or a house in partnership. In this way the purchase
of territory, and with it of sovereignty, and the holding of
sovereignty in partnership, if not absolutely unknown in the
elder state of things, became at least far more familiar and
important in the later. And, through the greater complica-
tion of mediaeval jurisprudence a complication which for
the most part grew out of this same confusion of the ideas of
property and sovereignty there arose an endless variety of
relations between princes, towns, independent and subject
districts, to which there is no parallel in the simpler state of
things in Greece and Italy (38). Still, as often as there
arose a system of separate towns and districts, independent
of, or but slightly controlled by, the central power of the
Emperor, we find in mediaeval Europe a lively image of the
relations between a Greek or Italian city and its Greek or
Italian subjects, an image of the relation of Sparta to her
Laconian TrepiWot or of Rome to her Italian allies (39). And
in Switzerland and the neighbouring lands this system went
on in all its fulness till the French invasion came to sweep
away the old state of things, to sweep away its worst evils
for ever, its good points only for a moment. The League
itself, its several Cantons, the allied cities and confederations,
188 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
all had their subjects, their Unterthanen, in Greek phrase
their ire/oloucot. It was not only aristocratic Bern or Basel
that thus ruled, sometimes over men of their own blood and
language, in all cases over men who were not savages or
heathens, but sharers in the common faith and civilization of
Europe. If the Bear held a firm grasp on the lands from
the Aargau to the Leman Lake, if for a moment he held
and Europe may now sigh that he did not keep the shore
which so proudly fronts Lausanne and Chillon (40), the bull
of Uri had planted his foot no less firmly on the Levantine
valley. So too the confederate village communities of the
Upper Wallis lorded it over their Welsh neighbours lower
down the river, and the Three Leagues of Raetia bore a rule
perhaps sterner than all over the Italian valley to the south
of them. The Valtelina alone has failed to rise from bondage
to the highest freedom of all ; yet incorporation with con-
stitutional Italy, nay, even subjection to France and Austria,
was a good exchange for the rule of its former masters. In
all these lands, whether well or ill governed in detail, the
principle of government was the same. The internal state
of the subject district might range from something very like
bondage to a large amount of local self-government ; but all
alike were irepiomot, in so far as the sovereignty was neither
vested in the community itself nor in a prince whom it could
claim as its own. In all alike, the sovereign was a common-
wealth beyond their borders, a corporate lord, who, whether
he ruled well or ill, ruled in his own interest and not in the
interest of his subjects. Such a rule is not necessarily
oppressive, though there is every temptation to make it so.
But it is in any case irksome and degrading ; it is the story
of Rome over again ; the rule of a single despot, where there
is at least the chance of the personal virtues of a well-
disposed despot, is better than the systematically selfish rule
of an alien commonwealth. The rule of a single man, of a
man so exalted as to seem like a being of another order, is
less irksome than the rule of a body of men who seem to be
vi COMMONWEALTHS AND THEIR SUBJECTS 189
in no way privileged above their subjects. And in one
respect the experience of earlier and later days has been
reversed. Democratic Athens was at least a better ruler of
dependencies than oligarchic Sparta (41). But the common
bailiwicks of Switzerland were always better off when the
bailiff, the Vogt, the htmnost, who was sent to rule them
came from aristocratic Bern or Zurich than when he came
from democratic Uri or Unterwalden. A patrician of Bern
was at least a man who knew men and things ; he was one
of a class who were taught the art of ruling from their birth.
The peasant harmost from a democratic Canton had too
often bought his office of his countrymen, and had to repay
and enrich himself at the cost of his temporary subjects. In
the Greek case we must remember that Athens wisely sent
no harmosts at all to her dependent allies, and the little
evidence that we have tends to show that the foreign
administration of Sparta was harsher than that of other
Dorian and aristocratic cities (42). But everywhere we learn
the same lesson, the inconsistency of commonwealths which
boast themselves of their own freedom and exalt themselves
at the cost of the freedom of others.
I have thus gone through my subject as fully, I trust,
as the nature and limits of the course prescribed to me
would allow. But that is of course very imperfectly. In
a course of lectures like this no subject can be dealt with
exhaustively ; no subject can be set forth in all its bearings :
nothing can be traced in detail from its beginning to its
end. The object of the lecturer is rather to awaken curiosity
than to gratify it, rather to show what is to be learned than
to attempt to teach it in all its fulness. All that he can
hope to do is to choose a few of the many aspects of his
subject, and to take care that his treatment of them, though
necessarily imperfect, shall be accurate as far as it goi-s.
Thus much I trust that I have done ; to some I may have
suggested a new line of thought ; to others I may have
190 MISCELLANEOUS ANALOGIES LECT.
suggested new illustrations of a line of thought on which
they had already entered. It will be enough if I can, by
this present line of argument, bring home to any mind the
great truth which it has been the chief business of all that
I say or write to set forth by various arguments, the truth
that history is one, and that every part of it has a bearing
on every other part. No one, I think, who has followed me
will deem that the institutions of ancient Greece and Italy
are at all lowered from their place of dignity, by being
shown to be the same in their origin, the same in many
of their details, as the institutions of our own forefathers.
We shall not think the less highly of the studies which
form the groundwork of all our studies, if we give them
their due place and no more, if we treat them as only
branches of one great study, records of one great heritage
in which England and Germany have their share alongside
of Rome and Athens. I do not shut out the other branches
of the common family, those who came before us, those
whose destiny it may be to come after us, those whom,
after so long a separation, we have again met in the far-
off Eastern world. I do not shut my eyes to the strong
likelihood that much that is common to the various branches
of the Aryan family comes from sources common to the
Aryans along with other divisions of mankind. But I
leave researches of this kind to inquirers of wider ken
than my own. It is enough for me to keep myself on
ground on which I can be sure of my footing, and to trace
out, at least in the form of a rough, though I would hope
a suggestive, sketch, the main points of political instruction
to be gathered from the history of the three branches of
the common stock which have, each in its turn, held the
foremost place among civilized men. It is enough if I
have led any to look on the earlier forms of the institutions
of our own people, on the kindred forms of the common
institutions of their kindred races, not as something which
is utterly passed and gone, not as something which is cut
vi SUMMARY 191
off from us by an impassable barrier of time and place, but
as something which is still living, .something in which
we ourselves share, something of which we still reap the
fruit, as a heritage which has descended to us from un-
recorded times, as the still abiding work of the fathers and
elder brethren of our common blood.
192 THE UNITY OF HISTORY UEDE
THE UNITY OF HISTORY
THE revival of learning in the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries marks, as is agreed on all hands, one of the great
epochs in the history of the mind of man. It is easy to
exaggerate the extent of the revival itself; it is easy to
dwell too exclusively on the bright side of its results ; but
the undoubted fact still remains none the less. That age
was an age when the spirit of man cast away trammels by
which it had long been fettered; it was an age when men
opened their eyes to light against which they had been
closed for ages. A new world was opened ; or, more truly,
a world which men never had forgotten, but which had
become to them a world of fable, was suddenly set before
them in its true and living reality. The Virgil, the Aris-
totle, the Alexander, of legend gave way to the true Virgil,
the true Aristotle, the true Alexander, called up again to
life in their writings and in their deeds. We are indeed
apt greatly to exaggerate the ignorance of earlier times,
but in one point it is hardly possible to exaggerate the
importance of the change. It must have been like the
discovery of a new sense, like the discovery of a new world
of being, when the treasures of genuine Greek literature
were, for the first time, thrown open to the gaze of Western
Christendom. The twelfth century had its classical revival
as well as the fifteenth ; but the classical revival of the
twelfth century hardly ever went beyond a more accurate
knowledge, a more happy imitation, of the elder specimens
of that Latin tongue which was still the tongue of religion,
LECT. THE REVIVAL OF LEARNING 193
government, and learning. To William of Malmesbury and
John of Salisbury the voice of Homer was dumb, and the
voice of Aristotle spoke only at third-hand with a Spanish
Saracen to his dragoman. Such knowledge of Greek as
fell to the lot of Robert Grosseteste and Roger Bacon was
looked on as a prodigy; and, whatever was its amount, it
certainly did not extend to any familiar knowledge of the
masterpieces of Hellenic poetry, history, or oratory (i).
That revival of learning which brought the men of our
Northern world face to face with the camp before Ilios
and with the Agore of Athens was indeed a revolution
which amounted to hardly less than a second birth of the
human mind.
Yet the revival of learning, rich and manifold as have
been its fruits, had its dark side. I speak not of its
immediate results, political and ecclesiastical, in its native
land of Italy. Better indeed by far was the honest
barbarism of the darkest age than the guilty splendours of
Lorenzo and of Leo, where all the blaze of art and poetry
and learning strive in vain to gloss over the overthrow
of freedom and the foul abuse of sacred things. I speak
rather of the effects of the classical revival of those days
directly on the pursuit of learning, on those studies of
Greek and Roman literature and art which became the
all in all of the intellect of the age. It at once opened
and narrowed the field of human study. It led men to
centre their whole powers on an exclusive attention to
writings contained in two languages, and for the most part
in certain arbitrarily chosen periods of those two languages.
In its first stage it devoted itself too exclusively to the
mere literature of those two languages, as opposed to the
solid lessons of their political history. But, in all its forms
and stages, it fostered the idea that the languages, the
arts, the history, of Greece and Rome, at certain stages
of their being, were the only forms of language, art, and
history which deserved the study of cultivated men. It
led to the belirf, not perhaps fully put forth in words, but
194 THE UNITY OF HISTOEY REDE
none the less practically acted on, that those two languages,
and all that belonged to them, had some special privilege
above all others that the studies which were honoured by
the ambiguous name of ' classical ' were fenced off from all
others by some mysterious barrier that they formed a
sacred precinct which the initiated alone might enter, and
from which the profane were to be jealously shut out.
Such a state of feeling, a feeling which has even now far
from died out, could not fail to lead to mere contempt,
and thereby to mere ignorance, of everything beyond the
sacred pale. And, what is more, it hindered any knowledge
of the true nature of those things which were allowed a
place within the sacred pale. It led to a cutting off of
so-called ' classical ' studies from all ordinary human pursuits
and human interests. And of this cutting off we still feel
the evil effects. Men persuaded themselves, not only that
'classical' models in literature and art were amongst the
noblest and most precious works of human genius, but
that they were the only possible standards of excellence.
Whatever did not conform to their pattern was worthless
and barbarous; the exclusive votaries of classical art and
literature deemed that they were branding it with the
heaviest reproach when they called it Gothic. They thus
cut themselves off from long and stirring volumes of the
world's history; they cut themselves off from forms of art
and language no less worthy of their homage than those
which they deemed alone worthy to receive it. They learned
to look with scorn on the works of men of their own land,
their own blood, and their own faith. They stifled art and
literature by arbitrary rules drawn from models, perfect
indeed in their own time and place, but which were utterly
inappropriate when creeds and tongues and feelings had
altogether changed. Let any one who would thoroughly
take in how low the taste of Englishmen had fallen under
the dominion of the exclusive classical fashion turn to those
passages in the ' Spectator ' where Addison chances to speak
of the history, the manners, the art, the religious belief,
LECT. EVILS OF EXCLUSIVE 'CLASSICAL' STUDY 195
of Englishmen in earlier days. Then let him turn, and
see how even then nature asserted her rights against the
deadening yoke of fashion, in those passages in which the
same man called on his astonished age to acknowledge an
outpouring of the true Homeric spirit in the English lay
of Chevy Chase (2).
But, more than all this, the exclusive study of ' classical '
models hindered men from gaining any living knowledge of
the classical models themselves. It has been wittily said
that they believed that all ' the ancients ' lived at the same
time. Certain it is that the habit of constantly classing
together Greece and Rome that is, Greece and Rome during
a few arbitrarily chosen centuries of their history in opposi-
tion to all other times and places led to an utter forgetful-
ness of the wide gap by which Greece and Rome were parted
asunder. Men forgot the difference between the Ionian
singer and the Augustan laureate ; they held up Homer and
Virgil as poets of the same class, whose merits and defects
could be profitably compared together. They would have
been amazed indeed to be told that the true parallel for the
tale of the wrath of Achilleus was to be looked for in the
Lay of the Nibelungs or in the stirring battle-songs of
Saulcourt and Maldon. They would have deemed it a
degradation to entertain the thought that the vulgar tongues
of England and Germany were kindred tongues, of equal
birth and claiming equal^honour, with the sacred languages
of Latium and Attica. They would have deemed it, not
so much a degradation as an utterance of open madness,
had they heard that those sacred languages were but dialects
of one common mother-speech, that its elder offspring was
to be looked for in the tongues of lands which the Macedonian
conqueror had barely grazed, and, more wondrous still to
tell, in the fast-vanishing speech of a few men of strange
tongue by the Eastern shore of the Baltic Sea (3).
On us a new light has come. I do not for a moment
hesitate to say that the discovery of the Comparative method
in philology, in mythology let me add in politics and
196 THE UNITY OF HISTORY REDE
history and the whole range of human thought marks a
stage in the progress of the human mind at least as great
and memorable as the revival of Greek and Latin learning.
The great contribution of the nineteenth century to the
advance of human knowledge may boldly take its stand
alongside of the great contribution of the fifteenth. Like
the revival of learning, it has opened to its votaries a new
world, and that not an isolated world, a world shut up
within itself, but a world in which times and tongues and
nations which before seemed parted poles asunder, now find
each one its own place, its own relation to every other, as
members of one common primaeval brotherhood. And not
the least of its services is that it has put the languages and
the history of the so-called ' classical ' world into their true
position in the general history of the world. By making
them no longer the objects of an exclusive idolatry, it has
made them the objects of a worthier, because a more
reasonable, worship. It has broken down the middle wall
of partition between kindred races and kindred studies ; it
has swept away barriers which fenced off certain times and
languages as ' dead ' and ' ancient ; ' it has taught us that
there is no such thing as ' dead ' and ' living ' languages, as
' ancient ' and ' modern ' history ; it has taught us that the
study of language is one study, that the study of history is
one study; it has taught us that no languages are more
truly living than those which an arbitrary barrier fences off
as dead ; it has taught us that no parts of history are more
truly modern if by modern we mean full of living interest
and teaching for our own times than those which the
delusive name of. 'ancient' would seem to brand as some-
thing which has wholly passed away, something which, for
any practical use in these later times, may safely be
forgotten.
My position then is that, in all our studies of history and
language and the study of language, besides all that it is
in other ways, is one most important branch of the study of
LECT. DELUSIVE USE OF 'ANCIENT' AND 'MODEBN' 197
history we must cast away all distinctions of ' ancient ' and
< modern,' of ' dead ' and ' living,' and must boldly grapple
with the great fact of the unity of history. As man is the
same in all ages, the history of man is one in all ages. The
scientific student of language, the student of primitive
culture, will refuse any limits to their pursuits which cut
them off from any portion of the earth's surface, from any
moment of man's history since he first walked upon it. In
their eyes the languages and the custonis of Greece and
Rome have no special privilege above the languages and the
customs of other nations. They do but take their place
among their fellows, as illustrations of the universal laws
which bear rule over human nature and human speech.
But let us come to history more strictly so called, to the
history of man as a political being, to the history of our
own quarter of the globe and our own family of nations.
The history of the Aryan nations of Europe, their languages,
their institutions, their dealings with one another, all form
one long series of cause and effect, no part of which can be
rightly understood if it be dealt with as something wholly
cut off from, and alien to, any other part. There is really
nothing in certain arbitrarily chosen centuries of the history
of Greece and Italy which ought to cut them off, either for
reverence or for contempt, from any other portion of the
history of the kindred nations. There is nothing to make
the so-called 'ancient' history a separate study from the
history of so-called ' modern ' times. ' Ancient ' history calls
for no special powers for its mastery ; it calls for no special
method for its study. The powers which are needed for
the mastery of ancient history are the same as those that
are needed for the mastery of modern history. The method,
the line of thought, the habits of research and criticism,
which are needed for the one are equally needed for the
other. Knowledge is, in both cases, gained by the exercise
of the same faculties, and by the use of the same process
in their exercise. So too it is with language. There is not,
as the world in general seems to think, anything special or
198 THE UNITY OF HISTORY REDE
mysterious about the Greek and Latin tongues, or about
those particular stages of those tongues which are picked
out to receive the name of classical. The accurate knowledge
of one language can be gained only by the same means as
the accurate knowledge of another. It does not need two
sets of faculties, but one and the same set, to enable us to
master the inflexions of the tongue of Homer and the
kindred inflexions of the kindred tongue of Ulfilas.
No language, no period of history, can be understood in
its fulness, none can be clothed with its highest interest and
its highest profit, if it be looked at wholly in itself, without
reference to its bearing on those other languages, those other
periods of history, which join with it to make up the great
whole of human, or at least of Aryan and European, being.
The tie which binds together the Greek and the Latin
languages is doubtless closer than that which binds either
of them to any other member of the great family. But
the tie is simply closer in degree ; it is in no way different
in kind. We are at last learning that our scientific know-
ledge of the speech of Greece is imperfect unless we add to
it a scientific knowledge of the speech of England, and that
our knowledge of the speech of England is imperfect unless
we add to it a scientific knowledge of the speech of Greece.
We are learning that Greek and Roman history do not stand
alone, bound together by some special tie, but isolated from
the rest of the history of the world, even from the history of
the kindred nations. We are learning that European history,
from its first glimmerings to our own day, is one unbroken
drama, no part of which can be rightly understood without
reference to the other parts which come before and after it.
We are learning that of this great drama Rome is the
centre, the point to which all roads lead, and from which
all roads lead no less. It is the vast lake in which all the
streams of earlier history lose themselves, and from which
all the streams of later history flow forth again. The world
of independent Greece stands on one side of it; the world
of modern Europe stands on the other. But the history
LECT. ROME THE CENTRE OF UNIVERSAL HISTORY 199
alike of the great centre and of its satellites on either side
can never be fully grasped, except from a point of view wide
enough to take in the whole group, and to mark the relations
of each of its members to the centre and to one another.
As it is with the language, so it is with the history. Our
knowledge of the history of Greece is imperfect without a
knowledge of the kindred history of England, and our
knowledge of the history of England is imperfect without a
knowledge of the kindred history of Greece. Rome is the
centre ; Rome is the common link which binds all together ;
and yet, while learning this, while learning more truly and
fully the place and dignity of Rome, we are learning too to
cast away the superstition which once looked on her language
as the one guide and key to all other languages and to all
human knowledge. We have learned that all members of
the great family are alike kinsfolk, entitled to stand side by
side on equal terms. We have learned that Angul and his
brother Dan (4) may march boldly and claim of right to
speak face to face with their cousin Helln, and have no
need to be smuggled in by some back-way through the
favour of their other cousin Latinus.
I here stop to answer one possible objection. Is it, I may
be asked, needful for the student of history or of language to
be master of all history and of all language ? Must he be
equally familiar with the tongue, the literature, the political
constitutions, the civil and military events, of all times and
places? Such an amount of knowledge, it may well be
argued, can never fall to the lot of man. And some may go
on to infer that any doctrine which may even seem to lead
to such a result must be in itself fruitless. Now to be
equally familiar with all history and all language is of course
utterly beyond human power. But it is none the less true
that the student of history or of language and he who is a
student of either must be in no small degree a student of
the other must take in all history and all language within
his range. The degrees of his knowledge of various languages,
200 THE UNITY OF HISTORY REDE
of various branches of history, will vary infinitely. Of some
branches he must know everything, but of every branch he
must know something. Each student will have his own
special range, the times and places which he chooses for
his special and minute study. Of these he will know
everything; he will master every detail of their history
in the minutest way from the original authorities. The
choice of such ages and countries for special study will of
course depend upon each man's taste and opportunities ; one
may choose an earlier, another a later time ; one may choose
the East, another the West ; one may choose a heathen,
another a Christian period ; but all are fellow- workers, if
only they all remember that, beyond the something of which
they must needs know everything lies the everything of
which they need only know something. No man can study
the history of all ages and countries in original authorities.
To the man who is most deeply versed in historic lore there
must still be many periods of which his knowledge is vague,
imperfect, and gained at second-hand. When a subject is so
vast, it cannot be otherwise. Some branches must in every
case be primary and some secondary; which are primary
and which are secondary will of course differ in the case of
each particular student. It is enough if each man, while
thoroughly mastering the branches of his own choice, knows
at least enough of the other branches to have a clear and
abiding conception of their relation to his own special
branches and to one another. And the thorough knowledge
of one period, the habit of minute research and criticism
among contemporary authorities, undoubtedly gives a man
a power which leads him better to see his way through the
periods which he has to take at second-hand, and to feel by
a kind of instinct where second-hand writers may be freely
followed and where they must be used with caution. A
man who is thoroughly master of the periods which to him
are primary will readily grasp the leading outlines and the
true relations of the periods which to him are secondary.
The one point is that of no period of history worthy of the
LECT. POSITION OF GRECIAN HISTORY 201
name> of no part of the record of man's political being, can
he afford to know nothing. I have said that a knowledge
of the history of Greece is imperfect without a knowledge
of the history of England, and that a knowledge of the
history of England is imperfect without a knowledge of the
history of Greece. But I do not say that the knowledge
need be in each case the same in amount, or even the same
in kind. With many men one must be primary and the
other secondary ; one will be a study to be mastered in its
minutest detail, while the other will be something of which
it is enough to know the main outlines and to grasp the
true relations of each period to the others. And as it is
with history, so it is with language. The philologer will
have certain languages of which he is thoroughly master,
with whose literature he is familiar, and in which his tact
can distinguish the nicest peculiarities of dialects and periods
and particular writers. Of other tongues he will have no
such minute knowledge ; he may be unable to compose a
sentence in them, perhaps even to construe a sentence in
them ; yet he may have a very real and practical knowledge
of them for his own purpose. That purpose is gained if he
thoroughly grasps their relations to other languages, the
main peculiarities which distinguish them, and the position
which they hold in the general history of human speech.
Looking then at the history of man, at all events at the
history of Aryan man in Europe, as one unbroken whole, no
part of which can be safely looked at without reference to
other parts, we shall soon see that those branches of history
which are too often set aside as something distinct and
isolated from all others do not lose but gain in dignity and
importance, by being set free from an unnatural bondage,
by being brought into their natural relation to other
branches of the one great study of which they form a part.
Let us look at the history of the Greek people and the
Greek tongue. Some men speak as if that history came to
an end on the field of Chaironeia, while others will gra-
202 THE UNITY OF HISTORY REDE
ciously allow that the life of Greece lingered on to be burned
up for ever among the flames of Corinth. Some speak as if
the whole life of the Greek tongue was shut up within those
few centuries which, by an arbitrary distinction, we choose
to speak of as ' classical.' Some indeed draw the line very
narrowly indeed. There was one Greek historian before
whose eyes the history of the world was laid open as it
never was to any other man before or after. There was one
man who, in the compass of a single life, had been as it
were a dweller in two worlds, in two wholly different stages
of man's being. To the experience of Polybios the old life
of independent Greece, the border warfare and the internal
politics of her commonwealths, had been the familiar scenes
of his earlier days. His childhood had been brought up
among the traditions of the Achaian League, among men
who were fellow-workers with Markos and Aratos. His
birth would almost fall in days when Megalopolis stood,
under the rule of Lydiadas, as an independent unit in the
independent world of Hellas. The son of Lykortas, the
pupil of Philopoimen, may have sat as a child on the knees
of the deliverer of Sikyon and Corinth. He could remember
the times when the tale of the self-devotion of their illus-
trious tyrant must have still sounded like a trumpet in the
ears of the men of the Great City (5). He had himself
borne to the grave the urn of the last hero of his native
land, cut off, as Anaxandros or Archidamos might have
been, in border warfare with the rebels of Messene (6). He
could remember times when Macedonia, perhaps even when
Carthage, was still an independent and mighty power, able
to grapple on equal terms with the advancing, but as yet
not overwhelming, power of Rome. He lived to see all
swept away. He lived to see Africa, Macedonia, and Greece
itself, either incorporated with the Roman dominion or
mocked with a shadow of freedom which left them abject
dependents on the will of the conquering people. He saw
the dominion of the descendants of Seleukos, the truest
heirs of Alexander's conquests, shrink up from the vast
LECT. HISTORIC POSITION OF POLYBIOS 203
empire of Western Asia into the local sovereignty of a
Syrian kingdom. He saw Pergamos rise to its momentary
greatness and Egypt begin the first steps of its downward
course. He saw the gem of Asiatic history, the wise Con-
federation of Lykia, rise into being after the model of the
State in which his own youth had been spent. He lived
to stand by the younger Scipio beside the flames of Carthage,
and, if he saw not the ruin of Corinth with his own eyes,
he lived to legislate for the helpless Roman dependency
into which the free Hellenic League of his youth had
changed (7). The man who saw all this saw changes
greater than the men who lived in the days of Theodoric
and Justinian, or the men who lived in the days of the
elder Buonaparte. And yet there are scholars, men devoted
to ' ancient ' and ' classical ' learning, who have been known
to cast away from them the writings of the man who saw
all this, because forsooth they were ' bad Greek/ because
they did not conform in every jot and tittle to the standard
of some arbitrarily chosen point in the history of a language
which has lived a life of well nigh three thousand years.
As if the form were more precious than the substance ; as
if the changes in a language were not the most instructive
part of the history of that language ; as if it were not as
unreasonable to call the Greek of Polybios ' bad Greek '
because it is not the Greek of Thucydides as it would be
to call the Greek of Thucydides ' bad Greek ' because it is
not the Greek of Homer. But let us rise above trammels
such as these ; let us take a wider and a worthier view of
the long history of the most illustrious form of human
speech. Let us remember that the despised Greek of Poly-
bios gives us an instance of a law which has gone on from
his day to ours. Thucydides, Xenophon, Demosthenes,
wrote and harangued in the dialect which came most
naturally to their lips, in the dialect of their daily life.
The History of Polybios is as little written in the dialect
which came most naturally to his lips as is the History of
Trikoupes. The language of an Arkadian inscription is
204 THE UNITY OF HISTORY REDE
something wholly different from the language of the con-
temporary History (8). That is to say, the dialect of Athens
had already made that complete conquest of Hellenic prose
literature which it has kept ever since. The classical purist
may smile when I apply the name of Attic to the long
succession of writers of Macedonian, Roman, and Byzantine
date. But so it is ; the style and spirit may change ; the
vocabulary may be corrupted by strange and barbarous
intruders ; but the mere forms of words still remain Attic.
The latest Byzantine writer really differs less from Xenophon
than Xenophon differs from Herodotus. Even the language
of a modern Greek newspaper, in its vain attempts to call
back a form of speech which has passed away, is Attic to
the best of its ability. Its aim is to reproduce the Greek
of Plato and Xenophon, not the Greek of Herodotus or of
Pindar. What higher tribute can be paid to the great
writers of the short sunshine of Athenian glory, than that
the dialect of their one city should for two thousand years
have thus set the standard of Greek prose writing, that it
should thus keep up one ideal of Hellenic purity among the
many and shifting forms of speech which were the native
dialects of the men who used it ? But the full extent, the
full worth, of such a tribute can never be fully understood
by those who cast away with contempt whatever does not
fully come up to an ideal whose full perfection of course was
unattainable except in its native time and place. The man
who would fully take in the influence of the Greek tongue
and the Greek mind on the history of the world must look
far beyond the narrow range of time and place within which
classical purism would confine him. Let him see how, in
the earliest days of Greek colonization, the tongue and the
arts of Greece found themselves a home on every coast from
the isle of Cyprus to the peninsula of Spain. Let him look
on the greater isle of Sicily, twice the battle-field between
the East and the West, between Africa and Europe, between
the Semitic and the Aryan man (9). Let him see the native
tribes gradually absorbed by kindred conquerors and neigh-
LECT. LONG DURATION OF GREEK LIFE 205
hours, till the distinction between Sikel and Sikeliot died
away, till the whole island was gathered into the Hellenic
fold, a land whose Hellenic life failed not under the rule of
Carthaginian, Roman, Saracen, and Norman, and where the
tongue in which the victories of Hieron had been sung to
the lyre of Pindar lived on to record the glories of the house
of Hauteville on the walls of the Saracenic churches of
Palermo (10). Look again at the Phokaian settlement in
Gaul; see how, among a race far more alien than the
kindred Sikel, the arts and letters of Greece held their place
for ages, and how some glimmerings from the Massalian
hearth may even have reached, not indeed to our own fore-
fathers, but to our predecessors in our own island. See the
long history of the Massalian commonwealth itself; how the
spirit of the men who sailed away from the Persian yoke
lived on in their kinsfolk who withstood the might of Caesar,
and sprang again to life in later times to withstand the
sterner might of Charles of Anjou (n). From the western
extremity of Greek colonization let us look to the eastern ;
let us turn our eyes from the northern shore of the Mediter-
ranean to the northern shore of the Inhospitable Sea. The
Greek kingdom of Bosporos and the Greek commonwealth
of Cherson have passed so utterly out of memory that we
may doubt whether, when, eighteen years back, those lands
were in every mouth, there was one among the warriors and
tourists and writers of a day who knew that, in compassing
the fortress of Sebastopol, he was treading on the ruins of
the last of the Greek republics. Yet it is something to
remember that, ages after Athens and Sparta and Thebes
had been swallowed up in the dominion of Rome, ages after
their citizens had exchanged the name of Hellenes for the
name of Romans, the fire once lighted at the prytaneion of
Megara still burned on, that one single commonwealth still
lived, Greek in blood and speech and feeling, the ally but
not the subject of the lords of the Old and the New Rome
(12). Thus far we have seen the free Greek settle on
distant shores, and carry with him the freedom of his own
206 THE UNITY OF HISTORY RED
land. But we must look also to other times and lands, when
the Greek tongue and Greek arts were scattered through
the world, but without carrying Greek freedom with them.
Yet it was something that, before Greece yielded to her
Macedonian master, he had himself to become a Greek, to
be adopted into the great religious brotherhood of Greece,
and to be chosen, with at least the outward assent of her
commonwealths, to be their common leader against the
Barbarian (13). The arms which overthrew her old political
freedom carried her tongue and her culture through the
kingdoms of the East. The centres of Grecian intellectual
life moved from the banks of the Ilissos and the Eurotas to
the banks of the Orontes and the Nile. Even the barbarous
Gaul, the descendant of the invaders of her Delphic temple,
was brought in his new home within her magic range, and
his Asiatic land deserved to be spoken of as the Gaulish
Greece (14). Thus that artificial Greek nation arose, some-
times Greek in birth, always Greek in speech and culture,
which so long divided the dominion of the world, and which,
after ages of bondage, has again sprung to life in our own
day. It is something too to see how truly Greece led captive,
not only her Macedonian but her Roman conqueror; to
remember how the first Roman historians recorded Roman
legends in the Greek tongue, and how well nigh every
Roman poet went to Greece as the fount of his inspiration.
But our view will not stop with the Augustan or with the
Flavian age. If we would see how truly Greece conquered
Rome, we must see the two Imperial saints of heathendom,
Marcus in his camp by the Danube and Julian in his
camp by the Rhine, choosing the tongue of Greece, and not
of Rome, to receive the witness of the time when the prayer
of the wise man was answered, and when philosophers held
the dominion of the world. But from them we must turn
away to the records of the Faith which the one persecuted
and the other cast aside. Those conquests which made the
Greek tongue the literary tongue of civilized Asia caused
that it should be in the Greek tongue that the oracles of
LECT. THE MODERN GREEK CHURCH AND NATION 207
Christianity should be given to the world, and that Greek
should be the speech of the earliest and most eloquent
preachers of the Faith. The traditions of Greece and Rome,
the conquests of Macedonian warriors and of Christian
Apostles, all came together when the throne and the name
of Rome were transferred to a Greek-speaking city of the
Eastern world, and when the once heathen colony of Megara
was baptized into the Christian capital of Constantine.
There went on that long dominion of the laws of Rome, but
of the speech, the learning, and the arts of Greece, the
dominion of the city which those who scorned and overthrew
her political power none the less revered as their intellectual
mistress. We have not gone through the history of Greece
till we have read the legends carved in her tongue on the
monumental stones of Ravenna, and blazing in all the glory
of the apses of Venice and Torcello (15). We have not
taken in how thoroughly Greece leavened the world, till we
read how the panegyrist of the Norman Conqueror tells us
that the spoils of England were of such richness that they
would not have disgraced the Imperial city, and that even
Greek eyes might have looked on them with wonder (16).
The Empire of Greece has passed away, but her changeless
Church remains, the Church which still speaks the tongue
of Paul and of Chrysostom, the Church which still sends up
her prayers in the words of the liturgies of the earliest days,
the Church which still keeps her Creed free from the in-
terpolations of later times (17), and which, alone among
Christian Churches, can give to her people the New Testa-
ment itself, and not man's interpretation of it. And now
again the Hellen, disguised for ages under the Roman name,
has once more stood forth as a nation, a nation artificial
indeed as regards actual blood, but a nation well defined by
its Greek speech and its Greek religion. And, if regenerate
Hellas has in some points failed, what has been the cause
of her failure ? Mainly because regenerate Hellas has, in
the zeal of her new birth, forgotten her long continuous
being. It is, above all things, the dream of the irrecoverable
208 THE UNITY OF HISTORY REDE
past, the dream of the exclusively classic past, which has
checked the progress of the ransomed nation. A Greece
which could utterly forget Athens and Sparta, which could
look on herself simply as one of the Christian races rescued,
or to be rescued, from the bondage of the Infidel a Greece
which could look on herself, and which was allowed to look
on herself, simply as the yoke-fellow of Servia and Bulgaria
would be far more likely to hold up her head among
the nations of Europe than a Greece that still dreams of
Thermopylai and Marathon, hard as the lesson must be
when her strife for freedom was one in which the very soil
of Thermopylai and Marathon was again dyed with the
blood of vanquished barbarians.
Surely in such a view as this we learn how truly history is
one ; surely such a survey teaches us how the whole drama
hangs together, how ill we can afford to look at any one of
its scenes as a mere isolated fragment, without referring to
the scenes before and after it. And surely too we pay the
highest homage to ' ancient ' days, to ' classic ' days, to the
nation which stood forth as the first teacher of the human
mind and to the tongue which was the instrument of its
teaching, not by shutting them up within the prison of a few
centuries, but by tracing out their influence on the history
of all time, by showing how close is the bearing of those
' ancient ' times upon the modern world around us, and how
the language which we falsely speak of as ' dead ' has in truth
never died, but still lives on, as it has ever lived through the
revolutions of so many ages. But we shall feel the oneness
of history even more, if we turn from Greece and her in-
fluence on mankind to the influence of the other ' ancient '
and ' classical ' people, to the long and abiding life of that
other tongue which is even more strangely spoken of as
' dead.' Let us look at Rome, not the mere ' classic ' Rome
of a generation or two of imitative poets, but the true Eternal
City, the Rome of universal history. And in this view, it is
again no small witness to the true oneness of history that
much that we have already looked at as Greek we must look
LECT. PERMANENCY OF THE LANGUAGE OF ROME 209
at from another point as Roman. The influence of Greece
on the later world, deep and lasting as it has been, has been
largely an indirect influence, an influence of example and
analogy. No modern nation is governed by the laws of
Lykourgos or the laws of Solon ; no modern state can directly
trace its political being either to Athenian democracy or to
Macedonian kingship. But Rome still lives in the inmost
life of every modern European state. Two abiding signs of
her rule stand out on the very surface of the modern world,
and need no thought, no searching into records, to bring
them before the eyes of every man. Three of the foremost
nations of Europe still speak the tongue of Rome, in forms
indeed which have parted off into independent languages, but
which are none the less living witnesses of her abiding rule,
as not only the conqueror but the civilizer of the Western
lands. And among all the nations which speak her tongue,
among many too to whom her tongue is strange, the city of
the Caesars and the Pontiffs is still looked up to as their reli-
gious metropolis, though no longer as their temporal capital.
Let us look at the history of Rome and of her language.
We may say of Rome, in a truer sense even than of Greece,
that her sound has gone out into all lands, and her words
unto the ends of the world. In the view of universal history,
the century 01 two of its ' classic ' purity seem but as a
moment in the long annals of the Imperial tongue. W T e
might indeed be tempted to wipe out altogether the days of
her ' classical ' that is, her imitative literature, as a mere
episode in the history of the undying speech of Rome. We
might be tempted to say that the genuine literature of Italy
went into a katdbothra when the Camenae wept over the
tomb of Naevius, and that it came out again when the
dominion of the stranger Muses had passed away, and when
the inspiration of Prudentius and Ambrose was drawn from
sources at least not more foreign than the well of Helikon ( 1 8).
The old Saturnian echoes which sang how it was the evil fate
of Rome which gave her the Metelli as her Consuls, ring out
again in those new Saturnian rimes which sing the praises of
210 THE UNITY OF HISTORY REDE
Imperial Frederick and set forth the reforming policy of Earl
Simon (19). The truly distinctive character of the Latin
tongue was not stamped on it by its poets, not even by its
historians and orators. The special calling of Rome, as one
of those poets told her, was to rule the nations ; not merely
to conquer by her arms, but to govern by her abiding laws.
Her truest and longest life is to be looked for not in the
triumphs of her Dictators, but in the edicts of her Praetors.
The most truly original branch of Latin literature is to be
found in what some might perhaps deny to be part of litera-
ture at all, in the immediate records of her rule, in the text-
books of her great lawyers, in the Itineraries of her provinces,
in the Notitia of her governments and offices. The true
glory of the Latin tongue is to have become the eternal
speech of law and dominion. It is the tongue of Rome's
twofold sovereignty and of her twofold legislation, the tongue
of the Church and the Empire, the tongue of the successors
of Augustus and of the successors of Saint Peter. It has
been, wherever King or Priest could wrap himself in any
shred of her Imperial or her Pontifical mantle, the chosen
speech alike of temporal and of religious rule. In the hymn
of the Fratres Arvales, in the ' lex horrendi carminis ' of the
earliest recorded Roman formula (20), we get the beginnings
of that long series of witnesses of her twofold rule, as alike
the temporal and the spiritual mistress of the Western world.
In the eyes of universal history the truest triumphs of the
Latin tongue are to be found in lands far away from the
seven hills, far away even from the shores of the Italian
peninsula. The tongue of Rome, the tongue of Gaius and
Ulpian rather than the tongue of Virgil and Horace, has
become the tongue of the Code and the Capitularies, the
tongue of the false Decretals and of the true Acts of Councils,
the tongue of Domesday and the Great Charter, the tongue
of the Missal and the Breviary, the tongue which was for
ages in Western eyes the very tongue of Scripture itself,
the tongue in which all Western nations were content to
record their laws and annals, the tongue for which all those
LECT. (ECUMENICAL ASPECT OF ROMAN HISTORY 211
nations which came within her immediate dominion were
content to cast away their native speech. It is this abiding
and Imperial character of the speech of Rome, far more than
even the greatest works of one or two short periods in its
long b'fe, which gives it a position in the history of the world
which no other European tongue can share with it. But this
its position in the history of the world can never be grasped
except by those who look on the history of the world as
one continuous whole. It is unintelligible to those who
break up the unity of history by artificial barriers of ' ancient '
and ' modern.' Much that in a shallow view of things passes
for mere imitation, for mere artificial revival, was in truth
abiding and unbroken tradition. Of all the languages of the
earth, Latin is the last to be spoken of as dead. It was but
yesterday the universal speech of science and learning ; it is
still the religious speech of half Western Europe ; it is still
the key to European history and law ; and, if it is tfbwhere
spoken in its ancient form, it still lives in the new forms into
which it grew in the provinces which Rome civilized as well
as conquered. It was a wise saying that the true scholar
should know, not only whence words come, but whither they
go (21). The history of the Latin language is imperfect if it
does not take in the history of the changes by which it grew
into the tongue of Dante and Villani, into the tongues of the
Provencal Troubadour and the Castilian Campeador, and into
that later but once vigorous speech which gave us the rimes
of Wace and the prose of Joinville, and which still lives in
so many of the statutes and records and legal formulae of our
own land.
In truth, as the full meaning and greatness of the Roman
history cannot be grasped without a full understanding of
history as a whole, so the history of Rome is in itself the
great example of the oneness of all history. The history of
Rome is the history of the European world. It is in Rome
that all the states of the earlier European world lose them-
selves; it is out of Rome that all the states of the later
European world take their being. The true meaning of
212 THE UNITY OF HISTORY REDE
Roman history as a branch of universal history, or rather the
absolute identity of Roman history with universal history,
can only be fully understood by giving special attention to-
those ages of the history of Europe which are commonly
most neglected. Men study what they call Greek and
Roman history ; they study again the history of the modern
kingdoms of England and France. But they end their
Roman studies at the latest with the deposition of Augus-
tulus ; sometimes they do not carry them beyond Pharsalia
and Philippi. Their study of English history they begin at
the point when England for a moment ceased to be England :
their French studies they begin at some point which teaches
them that the greatest of Germans was a Frenchman. In
every case, they begin both at some point which leaves an
utter gap between their ' ancient ' or ' classical ' and their
' modern ' studies. To understand history as a whole, to
understand how truly all European history is Roman history,
we must see things, not only as they seem when they are
looked at from Rome and Athens, from Paris and London,
but as they seem when they are looked at from Constanti-
nople, from Aachen, and from Ravenna. In that last-named
wondrous city we stand as it were on the isthmus which
joins two worlds, and there, amid Roman, Gothic, and
Byzantine monuments, we feel, more than on any other spot
of the earth's surface, what the history of the Roman Empire
really was. It is in the days of the decline of the Roman
power those days which were in truth the days of its
greatest conquests that we see how truly great, how truly
abiding, was the power of Rome. When we see how
thoroughly the conquered Roman led captive his Teutonic
conqueror, we see how firm was the work of Sulla and of
Augustus, of Diocletian and of Constantine. We see it
alike when Odoacer and Theodoric shrink from assuming the
titles and ensigns of Imperial power, and when the Imperial
crown of Rome is placed upon the head of the Frankish
Charles. We see it in our own day as long as the cognomen
of a Roman family, strangely changed into the official
LECT. ROMAN INFLUENCE ON TEUTONIC NATIONS 213
designation of Roman sovereignty, still remains the highest
and most coveted of earthly titles. To know what Rome
was, to feel how she looked in the eyes of other nations, it is
not enough to read the hireling strains in which Horace
sends the living Consul and Tribune to drink nectar among
the Gods, or those in which Virgil and Lucan bid him take
care on what quarter of the universe he seats himself (22).
Let us rather see how Rome, in the days of her supposed
decay, looked in the eyes of the men who overthrew her.
Let us listen to the Goth Athanaric, when, overwhelmed by
the splendours of the New Rome, he bears witness that the
Emperor is a God upon earth, and that he who dares to
withstand him shall have his blood on his own head (23).
Let us listen to Ataulf in the moment of his triumph, when
he tells how he had once dreamed of sweeping away the
Roman name, of putting the Goth in the place of the
Roman, and Ataulf in the place of Augustus, but how he
learned in later days that the world could not be governed
save by the laws of Rome, and how the highest glory to
which he now looked was to use the power of the Goth in
the defence of the Roman Commonwealth (24). And so her
name and power lives on, witnessed in the Imperial style of
every prince, from Winchester to Trebizond, who deemed it
his highest glory to deck himself in some shreds of her
purple ; witnessed too, when her name passes on not only to
her subjects, allies, and disciples, but to the destroyers of her
power and faith ; when Timour, coming forth from his
unknown Mongolian land, sends his defiance to the Ottoman
Bajazet and addresses him by the title of the Caesar of Rome
(25). But it is not in mere names and titles that her
dominion still lives. As long as the law of well-nigh every
European nation but ourselves rests as its groundwork on
the legislation of Servius and Justinian as long as the
successor of the Leos and the Innocents, shorn of all earthly
power, is still looked to by millions as holding their seat by
a more than earthly right so long can no man say that the
power of Rome is a thing of days which are gone by, or that
214 THE UNITY OF HISTORY REDE
the history of her twofold rule is the history of a dominion
which has wholly passed away.
In tracing out the long history of the true middle ages,
the ages when Roman and Teutonic elements stood as yet
side by side, not yet mingled together into the whole which
was to spring out of -their union in treading the spots
which hate witnessed the deeds of Roman Caesars and
Teutonic Kings many are the scenes which we light upon
which make us feel more strongly how truly all European
history is one unbroken tale. There are moments when
contending elements are brought together in a wondrous
sort, when strangely mingled tongues and races and states
of feeling meet as it were from distant lands and ages. I
will choose but one such scene out of many. Let us stand
on the Akropolis of Athens on a day in the early part of the
eleventh century of our aera. A change has come since the
days of Perikles and even since the days of Alaric. The
voice of the orator is silent in the Pnyx ; the voice of the
philosopher is silent in the Academy. Athene Promachos
no longer guards her city with her uplifted spear, nor do
men deem that, if the Goth should again draw nigh, her
living form would again scare him from her walls (26).
But her temple is still there, as yet untouched by the
cannon of Turk and Venetian, as yet unspoiled by the hand
of the Scottish plunderer. It stands as holy as ever in the
minds of men ; it is hallowed to a worship of which Iktinos
and Kallikrates never heard ; yet in some sort it keeps its
ancient name and use : the House of the Virgin is the
House of the Virgin still. The old altars, the old images,
are swept away ; but altars unstained by blood have risen
in their stead, and the walls of the cella blaze, like Saint
Sophia and Saint Vital, with the painted forms of Hebrew
patriarchs, Christian martyrs, and Roman Caesars. It is a
day of triumph, not as when the walls were broken down
to welcome a returning Olympic conqueror; not as when
ransomed thousands pressed forth to hail the victors of
LECT. TRIUMPH OF BASIL THE SECOND AT ATHENS 215
Marathon, or when their servile offspring crowded to pay
their impious homage to the descending godship of
Demetrios (27). A conqueror comes to pay his worship
within those ancient walls; an Emperor of the Romans
comes to give thanks for the deliverance of his Empire in
the Church of Saint Mary of Athens. Roman in title,
Greek in speech boasting of his descent from the Mace-
donian Alexander and from the Parthian Arsakes, but
sprung in truth, so men whispered, from the same Slavonic
stock which had given the Empire Justinian and Belisarius
fresh from his victories over a people Turanian in blood,
Slavonic in speech, and delighting to deck their Kings with
the names of Hebrew prophets (28) Basil the Second, the
Slayer of the Bulgarians, the restorer of the Byzantine
power, paying his thank-offerings to God and the Panagia
in the old heathen temple of democratic Athens, seems as if
he had gathered all the ages and nations of the world
around him, to teach by the most pointed of contrasts that
the history of no age or nation can be safely fenced off from
the history of its fellows (29). Other scenes of the same
class might easily be brought together, but this one, perhaps
the most striking of all, is enough. I know of no nobler
subject for a picture or a poem.
We might carry out the same doctrine of the unity of
history into many and various applications. I have as yet
been speaking of branches of the study where its oneness
takes the form of direct connexion, of long chains of events
bound together in the direct relation of cause and effect.
There are other branches of history which proclaim the
unity of the study in a hardly less striking "way, in the
form of mere analogy. Man is in truth ever the same ; even
when the direct succession of cause and effect does not come
in, we see that in times and places most remote from one
another like events follow upon like causes. European
history forms one whole in the strictest sense, but between
European and Asiatic history the connexion is only
216 THE UNITY OF HISTORY REDE
occasional and incidental. The fortunes of the Roman
Empire had no effect on the internal revolutions of the
Saracenic Caliphate, still less effect had they on the
momentary dominion of the house of Jenghiz or on the
Mogul Empire in India. Yet the way in which the
European Empire and its several kingdoms broke in pieces
has its exact parallel in those distant Eastern monarchies.
After all real dominion in the West had passed away from
the New Rome, Gothic and Prankish Kings bore themselves
as lieutenants of the absent Emperor. It was by Imperial
commission that Ataulf conquered Spain and that Theodoric
conquered Italy, and Odoacer, Chlodwig, and Theodoric him-
self, bore the titles of Consul and Patrician, no less than
Boetius and Belisarius. So in later times we see the Duke
of the French at Paris owning a nominal homage to the
King of the Franks at Laon, and at the same time attacking,
despoiling, leading about as a prisoner, the King whom he
did not dare to deprive of his royal title (30). We see Princes
Aquitaine and Toulouse so far vassals of the King of
Laon as to date their charters by the years of his reign, but
not caring to speak a word for or against their master in his
struggle with their rebellious fellow-vassal. We see in
times far nearer to our own a Roman Emperor and King of
Germany addressed in terms of the lowliest homage, and
served, as by his menial servants, by princes some of them
mightier than himself, princes who never scrupled to draw
the sword against a Lord of the World who, as such, held
not a foot of the earth's surface. We see the parallels to
this when the dominion of Jenghiz is split up into endless
fragments which still remember the name of their lawful
sovereign. It is brought in all its fulness before our eyes
when the Emir Timour, scrupulously forbearing to take on
him any higher title, thus far respects the hereditary right
of the Grand Khan who follows him as a single soldier in
his army (31). We see it when every Moslem prince who
has grasped any fragment of the old Saracenic Empire
dutifully seeks investiture from the Caliph of his own sect
LECT. HOW TO STUDY GREEK AND LATIN LANGUAGES 217
when Bajazet the Thunderbolt stoops to receive his patent
as Sultan from the trembling slave of the Egyptian Mame-
lukes, and when Selim the Inflexible obtains from the last
Abbasside a formal cession of the rank and style of Com-
mander of the Faithful (32). We see it in events which
have more nearly touched ourselves. We see it in the
history of our own dealings with the land where we won
province after province from princes who owned a formal
allegiance to the heir of Timour. We see it in the way in
which we ourselves have dealt with the heir of Timour him-
self, first as a pampered pensioner, lord only within the walls
of his own palace, and at last as a criminal and a prisoner,
sent to a harder exile than that of Glycerins in his bishop-
rick or of the last Merwing in his cloister.
One word more. The fashion of the day, by a not un-
natural reaction, seems to be turning against ' ancient ' and
' classical ' learning altogether. We are asked, What is the
use of learning languages which are ' dead ' ? What is the
use of studying the records of times which have for ever
passed away? Men who call themselves statesmen and
historians are not ashamed to run up and down the land,
spreading abroad, wherever such assertions will win them a
cheer, the daring falsehood that such studies, and no others,
form the sole business of our ancient Universities. They
ask, in their pitiful shallowness, What is the use of poring
over the history of ' petty states ' ? What is the use of
studying battles in which so few men were killed as on the
field of Marathon (33) ? In this place I need not stop for a
moment to answer such transparent fallacies. Still even
such falsehoods and fallacies as these are signs of the times
which we cannot afford to neglect. The answer is in our
own hands. As long as we treat the language and the
history of Greece and Rome as if they were something
special and mysterious, something to be set apart from all
other studies, something to be approached and handled in
Home peculiar method of their own, we are playing into the
218 THE UNITY OF HISTORY REDE
hands of the enemy. As long as we have ' classical ' schools
instead of general schools of language, as long as we have
schools of 'modern' history instead of general schools of
history (34), as long as we in any way recognize the distinc-
tions implied in the words 'classical' and 'ancient,' we are
pleading guilty to the charge which is brought against us.
We are acknowledging that, not indeed our whole attention,
but a chief share of it, is given to subjects which do stand
apart from ourselves, cut off from all bearing on the intellect
and life of modern days. The answer to such charges is to
break down the barrier, to forget, if we can, the whole line
of thought implied in the distinctions of ' ancient,' ' classical/
and ' modern,' to proclaim boldly that no languages are more
truly living than those which are falsely called dead, that no
portions of history are more truly ' modern ' that is, more
full of practical lessons for our own political and social state
than the history of the times which in mere physical
distance we look upon as 'ancient.' If men ask whether
French and German are not more useful languages than
Latin and Greek, let us answer that, as a direct matter of
parentage and birth, it is an imperfect knowledge of French
which takes no heed to the steps by which French grew out
of Latin, and that it is an imperfect knowledge of Latin
which takes no heed to the steps by which Latin grew into
French. Let us answer again, not as a matter of parentage
and birth, but as a matter of analogy and kindred, that it is
an imperfect knowledge of German which takes no heed to
the kindred phaenomena of Greek, and that it is an imperfect
knowledge of Greek which takes no heed to the kindred
phenomena of German. If they ask what is the use of
studying the histories of petty states, let us answer that
moral and intellectual greatness is not always measured by
physical bigness, that the smallness of a state of itself
heightens and quickens the power of its citizens, and makes
the history of a small commonwealth a more instructive
lesson in politics than the history of a huge empire. If we
are asked what is the use of studying the events and
LKCT. PRACTICAL STUDY OF ANCIENT HISTORY 219
institutions of times so far removed from our own, let us
answer that distance is not to be measured simply by lapse
of time, and that those ages which gave birth to literature,
and art, and political freedom are, sometimes only by analogy
and indirect influence, sometimes by actual cause and effect,
not distant, but very near to us indeed. Let us give to the
history and literature of Greece and Rome in their chosen
periods their due place in the history of mankind, but not
more than their due place. Let us look on the ' ancients,'
the men of Plutarch, the men of Homer, not as beings of
another race, but as men of like passions with ourselves, as
elder brethren of our common Aryan household. In this way
we can make answer to gainsayers ; in this way we can
convince the unlearned and unbelieving that our studies are
not vain gropings into what is dead and gone. Let us carry
about with us the thought that the tongue which we still
speak is in truth one with the tongue of Homer ; that the
Ekklesia of Athens, the Comitia of Rome, and the Parlia-
ment of England, are all offshoots from one common stock ;
that Kleisthenes, Licinius, and Simon of Montfort were
fellow-workers in one common cause let all this be to us a
living thought, as we read the records either of the earlier
or of the later time and we shall find that the studies of
our youthful days will still keep an honoured place among
the studies of later life, that the heroes of ancient legend,
the worthies of ancient history, lose not, but rather gain, in
true dignity by being made the objects of a reasonable
homage instead of an exclusive superstition.
NOTES
(1) Page 4. Max Miiller, Oxford Essays, 1856, p. 27. "The
English name for ' mill ' is likewise of considerable antiquity, for
it exists not only in the O. H. G. muli, but in the Lithuanian
nialunas, the Bohemian mlyn, the Welsh rnelin, the Latin mola,
and the Greek p,v\r]." Supposing the word not to be found
beyond the Western branch of the Aryan family, it still seems
quite impossible that the word could have got into these various
languages by any means but that of original kindred. Examples
of wider range might have been found ; but this has the example
of being so perfectly clear, and of needing no philological practice
to see the likeness between the different cognate words.
(2) Page 6. The connexion between the Greek Char is and
(Jharites and the Sanscrit Harits is discussed by Miiller, Science
of Language, ii. 369-376, 381-383; Cox, Aryan Mythology,
i. 48, 210 ; ii. 2. Mr. Cox, as usual, goes somewhat further than
Professor Miiller. I can see no difficulty in looking on the Greek
word x ^ 15 an< ^ *ks Greek cognates as sprung from the same
original root ykar as the Sanscrit Harits and their Sanscrit
cognates, and at the same time believing that the mythological
CJtaris and Ckarites arose after the appellative x^P L< had received
its particular Greek meaning. Charis and the Charites would
thus be strictly personifications, like the other personifications
compared with them in the text. The Harits and the Charite*
have thus a connexion, the general connexion which exists
between any two words sprung from the same root. I cannot
see with Mr. Cox (i. 210) that we are bound to see the same kind
of connexion between them which there is between Dyau* and
Zeus.
222 NOTES ON
(3) Page 7. The solar theory has undoubtedly been pressed
too far ; on the other hand, it has been made the subject of a
good deal of jesting which is much more foolish than any possible
vagaries of the theory itself. The true rule seenis to be this ; it
is not safe to set down as a solar myth every story which, by some
ingenious process, may be made to fit in with the requirements
of a solar story. I believe that this might be done with a little
trouble with almost every tale in history or fiction. I have myself
tried (see Fortnightly Review, November, 1870) to do as much
with the story both of Harold Hardrada and of Harold the son
of Godwine. One might argue that Augustus the Strong was a
solar hero, on the strength of the 360 children whom he is said to
have left behind him. These might fairly pass for the days of the
year, all the more so as the most famous of them was undoubtedly
the son of Eos or the Morning, in the person of Aurora von
Kb'nigsmarck. Many of the solar explanations which have been
put forth seriously seem to me to be of exactly the same kind as
these sportive ones. The case is changed when philology comes to
the help of mythology, and when the names and epithets of the
hero and his attendants show beyond doubt that the story is
solar. This is the distinction which is more than once drawn by
Professor Miiller. Thus the solar character of Phoibos-Apollon
runs through every detail. But I cannot see the same evidence
for the solar character of Achilleus and Odysseus.
(4) Page 9. For the happy name " survivals " we have to
thank Mr. Tylor. No line of argument can well be more con-
vincing, and it will be seen that in other lectures I have made a
large use of it for my own purposes.
(5) Page 9. Miiller, Science of Language, i. 223-226.
(6) Page 10. Let the science rather go nameless than bear the
burthen of such a name as, for instance, Sociology.
(7) Page 14. See Growth of the English Constitution, 92,
ed. ii. It can hardly be needful .to expose for the thousandth
time either the notion that the Three Estates are King, Lords,
and Commons, or the silly joke of calling the newspapers the
Fourth Estate.
LECTURE 1 223
(8) Page 14. See Growth of the English Constitution,
96, 98.
(9) Page 16. I must confess that I say this at second hand,
as I have not studied the Crusading Jurisprudence for myself.
But it is plain that in no other time or place was there the same
opportunity for bringing in a system of Feudal Law if any one
likes the phrase, of introducing the Feudal System which was
supplied by the Frank Conquest of Palestine. Elsewhere feudal
notions gradually grew up, and they gradually spread from one
country to another. Thus in England the feudal ideas, which
were already growing up before the Norman Conquest, were
greatly strengthened and put into shape through the Norman
Conquest. But there was nothing like the bringing in of a
wholly new jurisprudence at a single blow. In Palestine, on the
other hand, where of course Mahometan law and custom went
for nothing, the Crusaders had the opportunity of legislating
afresh from the beginning, and the most perfect of feudal codes
was the natural result. The lands conquered from the Eastern
Empire by the Crusaders and other Western adventurers, from
Apulia to Cyprus, offered a field for feudal legislation only one
degree less open than the lands conquered from the Mahometans.
The Assizes of Jerusalem themselves became the law of the
Kingdom of Cyprus, whose Kings of the House of Lusignan con-
tinued the nominal succession of the Kings of Jerusalem. See
Gibbon, c. Iviii. vol. xi. p. 91, ed. Milman.
(10) Page 17. The magistrates were called in Romance
Capitouls. The name Cajritolium is graven in large letters on
the front of the building itself, a building of no great age. I
have not specially studied the local history of Toulouse, but I
can hardly think that the Capitouls, whatever we make of the
Capitolium itself, can be a direct inheritance from Roman
times. Indeed, according to Thierry (Tiers Etat, ii. 1, Eng.
Trans.), the Consuls of Toulouse were only established in 1188.
There was also a Capitol at Ktiln, the name of which survives in
the church of Saint Mary Capitoline.
(n) Page 18. I learned this from an inscription in the church
of Saint Salvi at Alby. The style is " major et consules." On the
consular governments in the cities of Southern Gaul see the chapter
224 NOTES ON
of Thierry just quoted. He speaks of the Mayor as an addition
to the original consular government which came in first in the
Aquitanian cities under Norman or English rule.
(12) Page 19. On the modern corruption of the German
language I have said something in my second series of Historical
Essays, p. 269.
(13) Page 20. See Forsyth, History of Ancient Manuscripts,
p. 25.
(14) Page 20. I said something on this matter many years
ago in the two first chapters of the First Book of my History of
Architecture; but I should not now talk about "Pelasgian."
(15) Page 21. See History of Federal Government, i. 319.
(16) Page 21. See Historical Essays, First Series, 401-
405.
LECTURE II
II
(1) Page 25. See the remarks of Grote, ii. 289-302, on the
effects of the geographical character of Greece on its history. See
also the first chapter of Curtius, especially the remarkable passage
at page 13 :
"Euphrat und Nil bieten Jahr um Jahr ihren Anwohnern
dieselben Yortheile und regeln ihre Beschaftigungen, deren
stetiges Einerlei es mb'glich macht, dass Jahrhunderte iiber das
Land hingehen, ohne dass sich in den hergebrachten Lebensver-
haltnissen etwas Wesentliches andert. Es erfolgen Umwalzun-
gen, aber keine Entwickelungen, und mumienartig eingesargt
stockt im Thale des Nils die Cultur der Aegypter ; sie zahlen die
einformigen Pendelschlage der Zeit, aber die Zeit hat keinen
Inhalt ; sie haben Chronologic, aber keine Geschichte im vollen
Sinne des Worts. Solche Zustiinde der Erstarrung duldet der
Wellenschlag des agaischen Meeres nicht, der, wenn einmal
Verkehr und geistiges Leben erwacht ist, dasselbe ohne Stillstand
immer weiter fiihrt und entwickelt."
(2) Page 26. The second chapter of Curtius and the appendix
to the first volume should be read. But I see no reason to doubt
the received version, which makes European Hellas the mother-
land of the Asiatic Hellenes.
(3) P ft g e 26. Of the Phoenician occupation of the
islands there seems no doubt. See Thucydides, i. 8 ; Hero-
dotus, iv. 147. Thasos, with its gold mines, is a well-known
case ; the authorities are collected in the article on Thasos in the
Dictionary of Geography. I venture to think that the Homeric
Catalogue might enable us to draw a map of the islands as far as
they had been already wrested from Phoenician and other pra>
NOTES ON
Hellenic occupants. It appears from vv. 645-680 that Crete,
Rhodes, Kos, and several other of the southern islands, were
already Hellenic, though the language used of Rhodes would
seem to imply that the Hellenic settlement had been made
not very long before. Chios and Samos were clearly not yet
Hellenic, and Lesbos is a conquest of Achilleus himself. (Iliad,
ix. 271.)
The Hellenes were doing in these islands in prse-historic times
what they afterwards did in Sicily and Cyprus. They were
fighting the battle of the Aryan against the Semitic man ; and
all the more so because the Phoenicians had doubtless established
themselves in all these islands, except perhaps Cyprus, at the cost
of Sikels, Karians, and other nations more or less akin to the
Greek.
(4) Page 26. See Historical Essays, Second Series, p. 90.
(5) Page 26. The exact limits of Greek colonization should be
noted. It spread gradually over the whole coast of the Mediter-
ranean Sea and its great gulfs, except when there was some mani-
fest hindrance. Thus, on the eastern and southern coasts of the
Mediterranean the Greeks were cut off from colonization by the
presence of Phoenicians and Egyptians, except in the lands
between Egypt and the Carthaginian dominions, which did
receive Greek colonies in the form of the Kyrenaic Pentapoli?.
It will be at once seen that, while no part of the Mediterranean
coast was more thickly set with Greek colonies than Southern
Italy, Northern Italy contained few or none. The Greek origin
of Pisse on the one coast and of Spina on the other is at best
doubtful, and in no case did they play any part as Greek cities
worthy to be compared with the famous cities which won the name
of Magna Grsecia. This plainly shows that, in the days of Greek
colonization, the occupants of Northern Italy Etruscan, Gaulish,
Umbrian, or Latin were much stronger than those whom the
Greek colonists found in the South. Another point to notice is
that Greek colonization succeeded best in those lands where the
former inhabitants were more or less closely akin to the Greeks.
Thus Sicily and the ^Egsean coast became really Greek countries,
while in Libya and on the Euxine the Greek colonies always
remained mere scattered settlements in a barbarian land.
LECTURE II 227
(6) Page 26. Notwithstanding all that has been said about
Egypt and the East, I see no more reason than I did five-and-
twenty years ago to derive the origin of Greek architecture from
any barbarian source. The Ionic capital indeed may perhaps
come from the East. But if so, the Greeks made it thoroughly
their own, and they were the first to give it any form which, in
the words of the text, really deserved the name of art.
(?) P a g e 26. That is of course the Ki-iJ/xa es del of Thucy-
dides himself (i. 22). The fact that such a history as that of
Thucydides could be written at such an early stage of prose
literature is in itself one of the greatest facts in Greek or in
human history. The man himself was of course above his con-
temporaries ; but in no other contemporary society could room
have been found for such a man. I may refer to the third Essay
in my second series of Historical Essays.
(8) Page 27. I have said something on this head in the fifth
and sixth essays of the same series. But the real witness to the
lasting results of Alexander's career is to be found in the
Histories of Mr. Finlay. An inhabitant of modern Athens seeks
to trace out the causes of the state of things which he sees around
him and of the events in which he had himself played a part,
and he has to go back to the conquests of Alexander as his
beginning.
(9) Page 27. It must always be remembered that, till the
modern Hellenic revival, the name of "EXAijv was altogether
unknown as the name of the Greek nation. All through Byzan-
tine, Frank, and Ottoman times, their one name was 'Pwpaioi
Romans by virtue of the unrepealed law of Antoninus Caracalla.
(10) Page 27. I accept the legend so far as this, that it
expresses, in a legendary form, a policy by which Rome grew
from the beginning the policy of incorporation.
(i i ) Page 28. " The reign of Ctesar and of Christ was restored,"
says Gibbon (c. Hi., vol. x., 86, Milman), in recording the recovery
of Antioch by Nikephoros Ph&kas. This exactly expresses the
state of the case.
228 NOTES ON
(12) Page 28. The phrase of "Urbs aeterna " is common in
Ammianus. See xiv. 6, and a note of Lindenbrog for other
instances.
(13) Page 29. I believe that there are still people perhaps
those who talk about " Goths, Huns and Vandals " as if they
were all the same who fancy that the Goths were destroyers.
Let them study the famous passage of Cassiodorus (vii. 15) ; only
let them not fancy that the description there given has anything
to do with Gothic architecture in the technical sense.
(14) Page 29. See Growth of the English Constitution, p. 9,
ed. 2.
(15) Page 30. It should always be remembered that the three
Scandinavian kingdoms, like the two Nether-Dutch kingdoms of
Belgium and the Netherlands, were among the few European
states which passed undisturbed through the storms of 1848.
From 1660 to 1848 Denmark was the one country where
despotism was really lawful; and in 1848 Frederick the Seventh
had, as his first act, given his people a constitution of his own
free will, before revolutions had began elsewhere. The wars and
negotiations which have gone on since 1848 have had nothing to
do with the state of Denmark itself, but wholly with its relations
to the two border Duchies. And it should be further remarked
that the discontent in those Duchies came to a head at the very
moment of the proclamation of free institutions in Denmark.
The cause is obvious. Under the despotism Kingdom and
Duchies fared alike, and there were even times when the German
element seemed to be preferred to the Danish. In a Parlia-
ment representing both the Kingdom and the Duchies the
German element would always have been out-voted. The like
would be the case with the Romance Cantons of Switzerland, if
their equality as sovereign States did not protect them. Hence
the strong opposition of those Cantons to the proposed changes in
the Federal Constitution.
(16) Page 30. I assume this here; I have gone more fully
into the matter in my Growth of the English Constitution, of
which this position is the main argument.
LECTURE II
(17) Page 30. For Alfred's description of the modest way in
which he laid his laws before his Witan, see Norman Conquest,
i. 51.
(18) Page 30. See Growth of the English Constitution, 34.
(19) Page 30. I have elsewhere collected some instances of
the notion of Britain as another world (Norman Conquest, i.
556). It may be well to give some more instances from earlier
writers. The form of speech begins with YirgiFs " Penitus toto
divisos orbe Britannos." (Eel. i. 67.) So Velleius (ii. 46)
speaks of Caesar as going into Britain, " alterum pene imperio
nostro ac suo quaerens orbem." Lucan probably means the same
thing less directly, when he speaks (ii. 294) of " diductique fretis
alio sub sidere reges." So Florus (iii. 10) : ''Quasi hie Romanus
orbis non sufficeret, alterum cogitavit." (We hear again of
" Romanus orbis " and even of " Imperator Romani orbis,"
in Vopiscus, Aurelian, 26, 28.) So Jornandes (11) also speaks
of Csesar : " Pene omnem mundum suse ditionis subegit, omnia-
que regna perdomuit, adeo ut extra nostrum orbem in
Oceani sinu repositas insulas occuparet." So elsewhere (5) he
opposes " Britannia "to " noster orbis." "We find the same way
of speaking in Greek authors also. Josephus (Bell. Jud. ii. 16, 4)
makes Agrippa, when enlarging on the Roman power, say,
(TKt{f/a.(r6f Be Kal TO TSprrravwv ret^os, ol TOIS 'lepocroXv/nwv rct'^eo-t
7re7roi$OTs' Kal yap eKfivovs Trepi(3t(3\rjfj.fvov<; wKcavov Kal T>}S KO.&'
17/z.as oucov/ioo;? OVK f\d(T(rova vf)(rov oiKovvras, TrAerrraiTes eSouAoxrajro
'Paj/xaiot. So Plutarch, Cajsar, 23, Trpo-ujyayev e^w TT}? oiKou/AeVr/s
TTJV 'Pw/xaiW rjyfp.oviav. Dion, on the other hand (Ixii. 4), puts
language of the same kind into the mouth of Boadicea : Tocyapovv
vf)(Tov Tr)\iKavrr)v, paXXov 8' rpretpov Tpwrrov TWO. TTfpippvTov, ve/xd/Aevot,
Kal l&iav oiKOVfj.evT]v C^OITC?, Kal Tfxrovrov VJTO TOV ceavoi5 atfr'
aTrai^rojv TWV aAAaiv dv^poi/Triov d BuavTi'w /Jao-iAecov TO
TOIOUTOV aTreo-prjKt e$os), this was now the case no longer. One of
the oddest forms of the dispute is when the Council of Basel in
1437 addresses the Emperor John Palaiologos as " Imperator
Romeeorum" (Letters of Thomas Beckington, ii. 19, et al.). I
conceive that this use of the Greek form was to avoid calling him
" Imperator Romemorum " ; somewhat in the same way as I
have known strict Anglican theologians who would not have
called the ecclesiastical Establishment of Scotland a Church,
according to the Saxon pronunciation, but who had no scruple
against calling it by the Anglian or Danish form Kirk. In an
earlier letter in the same series (i. 285) Richard the Second
addresses Manuel Palaiologos as " Imperator Constantinopoli-
tanus."
(23) Page 32. Besides the important part which the Servians
and Bulgarians for the Bulgarians may be practically reckoned
as a Slavonic people played in the affairs of the Eastern
Empire, the modern history of Russia is very like its history in
the ninth and tenth centuries acted over again. Then, as in
later times, Russian fleets covered the Euxine and threatened
Constantinople. A variety of causes, crowned by the Mogul in-
vasion in the thirteenth century, broke up the Russian power and
directed its chief energies elsewhere. The wars of the Russians
with their Tartar enemies, and their final recovery of the Euxine
coast, form the exact parallel to the advance of the Christians
in Spain and the recovery of Granada. And besides Russia, we
must remember the great European position held by Poland
under the House of Jagellon in the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries.
(24) Page 33. All these stories are familiar from the legend-
ary history of Rome in the first book of Livy and elsewhere.
It is hard to say how far they are strictly native Italian legends,
how far they were devised after the Romans had become familiar
with Greek literature. The story which makes Numa a pupil of
LECTUEE II 233
Pythagoras is of course only an unlucky guess, the chronological
absurdity of which is exposed by Livy himself.
(25) Page 33. Tacitus, Germania, 3 : " Fuisse apud eos et
Herculem memorant, primumque omnium virorum fortium ituri
in prcelia canunt .... Ceterum Ulyssem quidani opinantur,
longo illo et fabuloso errore in hunc Oceanum delatum, adisse
Germanise terras, Asciburgiumque, quod in ripa Rheni situm
hodieque incolitur, ab illo constitutum nominatunique. Aram
quinetiam Ulyssi consecratam, adjecto Laertaj patris nomine,
eodem loco olim repertam, monumentaque et tumulos quosdam,
Graecis litteris inscriptos, in confinio Germanic Rha?tia?que adhuc
exstare ; quaj neque confirmare argumentis, neque refellere in
animo est : ex ingenio suo quisque demat, vel addat fidem."
(26) Page 34. I have here tried to bring together a few of
the most obvious words which all, or many, of the Aryan lan-
guages have in common. On timber and ear see Miiller, Oxford
Essays, 1856, 25-27. The former word, in the form timbrian,
is the word commonly used in Old-English for building, whatever
be the material used. So Cnut " ferde to Assandune and let
timbrian ftar an mynster of stane and lime ; " and so Eadward
"getimbrode " the West Minster itself. (From the etymological
connexion of this word with timber some people have oddly
argued that all buildings built in England up to sunset on St.
Calixtus' Day, 1066, must have been made of wood.) Tame,
hound, deer, the two latter of which are words which have come
down from a wider to a more special meaning, are good examples
of common Aryan words. The bull I was thinking of him in
his noblest office, as furnishing the standard and the war-horn
of Uri does not appear by that name in Greek or Latin, but I
believe that he is to be found in the primitive speech of Lithuania.
One may doubt too whether the name of the lion is to be looked
on as wholly borrowed from the South ; the beast himself is
certainly a genuine European animal, whose " reti-eat " has been
traced out by a happy union of historical and physical evidence
in the hands of Mr. Dawkins.
(27) Page 34. With the words of Herodotus (ix. 62) before
us Xij/iiaTi fjiiv wv KOI (H>>fJ-y owe eovroves 7/ fiev TO.
Orjv, ? TOCTOVTOV 8e p.f/a\o\l/v^ia avSpe
We are apt to look upon the West-Gothic kingdom as some-
thing specially Spanish. But, till the conquest of Aquitaine by
Chlodwig, it was at least as much Gaulish as Spanish. The
Gothic capital was the Gaulish Tolosa ; and there were more
truly " no Pyrenees " then than at any time before or since.
(34) Page 36. Jornandes, 36. "A parte vero Romanorum
tanta patricii Aetii providentia fuit, cui tune innitebatur respub-
lica Hesperise plagse, ut undique bellatoribus congregatis adversus
ferocem et infinitam multitudinern non impar occurreret. His
enim adfuere auxiliares Franci, Sarmatse, Armoritiani, Litiani,
Burgundiones, Saxones, Riparioli, Ibriones, quondam milites
LECTURE II 237
Romani, tune vero jam in numero auxiliariorum exquisiti, alite-
que nonnullse Celticse vel Germanicse nationes."
There is something very strange in the appearance of the
Sarmatians ; but it is not for me to dispute the assertion of the
historian that they were there, especially as it is convenient for
my argument that they should have been there.
The grievous thing is that in this great struggle between
Aryan and Turanian men, there were Aryans, Teutons, Goths,
on the Turanian side.
(35) Page 37. On Alaric's march to Athens, see Zosimos,
v. 6.
(36) Page 38. On the influence of Massalia on the neigh-
bouring Gauls, see Strabo, iv. 1. His words are very strong:
fiv ' ev 8f T<3 Trapovrt Kal TOVS yva>pi/x.a>raTOvs
TreTrctKCV, aWl TT/S eis 'A^vas aTroS^/iias fKei&e oira.v
iXofia6ei av a/xeivov r] TToXtreta fJ^x^V TOCTOVTU)
So, at an earlier stage of his argument (ii. 6), he says,
p.ev ovv Aeyovcnv o>s Set TTJV apLO-rrjv TroXtrccav e cbracraiv cTrat Ttav
TToXiTeitav p.fj.Lyp.fvrjv, Sio KO.I TTJV TU>V AaxeSat^ovtov hraivovcriv' and
he goes on to describe the way in which the three forms of
government were held to be united in the constitution of Sparta.
Isokrates too, throughout the Areiopagitic and Panathenaic dis-
courses, where the object is to contrast what he looks on as the
corrupt democracy of his own time with the truer democracy of
a past time (CKCIVTJV TTJV 8r/fj.oKpaTiav, r)v 2oA.V e avrov yeyovdrtov ov&eva
fj.tTfXiirev iSiomKOis ovo/icuri irposayopevo/Aevov, dAAa TOV /xev /JacriAca
KaX.ovp.evov, TOVS oe am/eras, ras oe aVacrcras.
(41) Page 44. See Growth of the English Constitution,
32, 171, and below.
(42) Page 45. The Old-English rice, the same as the High-
Dutch reich, seems now to survive only in the ending of the
word bis/iopric ; but in Northern English cynerice, in various
.spellings, went on till a very late time. Ricsian, ri&ian, is the
Old-English verb = reyere.
(43) Page 45. See Max Miiller, Oxford Essays, p. 24, and
see below, note 64 on Lecture IV.
(44) Page 45. Massmann (Ulfilas, 728) explains the Gothic
reiks by "ein Machtiger, Oberster, Herrscher; vornehm, angesehen,
machtig."
(45) Page 46. The Athenian ^Xiat'o, which Greek etymolo-
gists (see Suidas in ^Aiatm/s) were tempted to connect with
T/Aios, is of course the same word as dAt'o, connected with O.A.T/S
and other kindred words.
(46) Page 46. On the various names, dyopa for one of them,
by which the Achaian Federal Assembly is called by Polvbios,
see History of Federal Government, i. 263.
240 NOTES ON
(47) Page 46. The Latin frater and English brother seem at
first sight to have no Greek cognate, as its place in the literal
sense has been usurped by dSeApa.Tr)p or Qpartap, to express a member of one of
the union of yentes known as pa.rpai or tftparpiai, of which I have
said more at p. 66. It might almost be in either sense that
Nestor (Iliad, ix. 63) uses the negative word ;
i>S iro\f/j.ov tparat
But when in ii. 362 he bids Agamemnon
Kpiv' &vSpas Kara. v\a, Kara p'tiTpriiv apyyr), v\a 5e v\ois'
we could not better express KO.TO. vXa, Kara prjTpaV dptarwv a7rXu>s KCIT' dper/v
iroXireiav, KOL fj.i] Trpos viroOea-iv TWO. dya0a>v avSpoov, fj.6vrjv SIKCUOV
Trposayopeueiv dpioroKpcm'av, distinctly shuts out any such vrro^tVa?
dya#a>v dvSpuiv as age, wealth, or birth. But he clearly feels that
such a government of the actually best is something merely
ideal ; and he seems to hold the best form of government to
be that form of TroAtrcta his TroXtrcta being the same as the
8r)p.oKpa.Tia of Polybios and others (see Growth of the English
Constitution, p. 166) which leans towards aristocracy. In this
offices are filled by election and not by lot, and they are filled
with regard not to riches only but to merit : OTTOV ye fir] //.oi/ov
TrXovTivSrjv dXXa KCU dpiorivSr/v aipowrai ras dp^as. Aristocracy,
in Aristotle's idea, was something wholly distinct from oligarchy,
the government of the few, the government of mere wealth or
birth, without regard to merit. Still the tendency of even the
ideal aristocracy would unavoidably be to give predominance to
birth and wealth ; for, without ruling whether there is or is not
such a thing as strictly hereditary capacity, it is certain that
some kinds of capacity, especially political capacity, are not^ only
likely to be more easily recognized, but are likely really to be
thicker on the ground where birth and wealth afford special
opportunities for their culture. Aristotle's definition of evyeVeia
is dp^atos irXovros KCU aperr) (iv. 8, 9), and again (iii. 13, 3),
evyeveid eortv ape-ri] ycvovs : oligarchy, the corruption of aris-
tocracy, looks only to birth or wealth without regard to merit.
So, to turn to a writer of a time when all questions about
aristocracy and democracy had become mere speculative talk,
Dion Chrysostom, in his discourses addressed to Trajan, has his
definition of aristocracy and of oligarchy. He follows Aristotle in
LECTURE III 243
the doctrine of the three forms of government, each of which
has its corruption, and he thus defines aristocracy (i. 47) : Sevrepa
8f dpio-TOKparia KaXovfjifvi) ovre evos ovre iroAAwv TIVMV, dAAa oAtyujv
TWV apiovtov -rjyovfjifvwv, TrXeiov aTre^pvcra 77877 TOV Suvarou xat TOU
s. He then defines oligarchy as oXtyap^i'a, (r/cX^pa KCU
7rA,eoveia, TrAoucriW nvuiv KCU Trovr/paiv oA,iy7roTpav avrots Ofa~6ai Trposrjyopiav
7TiTa fj.rj TTOLflv yvw/>n;v \LIOV aTravTCDV xvpiav, dAAa Sucriv tTrtTpeVeiv
dvSpao-i TT}V (3a.oinjo~fo~iv, opyto'fois
TTOrt' O.$AlU)TaTOUS ?V(U TOt'S "EAA^VaS, OTl f3ap(3dpOVS KoXa.KfVOVO~LV
dpyvptov, >acr/ccov TC, rjv o-tafrf) ot/ca8e, /cara ye TO avrai ovvarov
' A.&r)va.tovs /cat Aa/ceSai/jtovious, aTreVAevo'cv es MiA^rov.
i. 6. 14. KaAAi/cpaTi'Sas OVK *<$>?), tavrov yc ap^ovros, ovoeva
'EAA^vtov es TOVKCIVOV Srvarov a
(u) Page 54. The whole argument of Aristotle assumes that
the commonwealth will be a city, and neither more nor less
neither a mere village nor yet a nation. The three are
contrasted together in several places. Thus we read in the
Politics (ii. 2, 3) Sioitrci 8e TO> TOIOVTW /cat TroAts eOvovs, orav
fj.rj Kara /cw/xas UMTI K^wpurp-fvoi TO Tr\rjdo 'Hpo.KA.eous
7reV fj.as. He goes on to speak of those /UUTOIKOI who, by the
terms of special treaties, enjoyed special rights, the connubium
and commercium or any others. ov&' ol roiv SiKai
OITWS OJSTC Kai &IKTJV vTTC^ttv Kal 8iKaccr$ar TOVTO yap
rots a7ro s ol fu'roiKoi /xcre^orcra', uAAa
avdytaj irpoa-rdnjv. This last is the well-known disqualifica-
tion of the fjitToiKot at Athens, which forbade them from suing in
any court in their own names, and required them to appeal-
through a citizen patron.
(29) Page 58. Something of this kind happened at some
stage or other of the history of most Grecian cities. I quote
254 NOTES ON
the most illustrious case of all (Arist. Pol. iii. 2, 3) : ocroi
p.fTa/3oXf}<; ycvofJifvrp; TroXtrctas, otov ' AOrjvrfo-LV eiroirja-f
fj.fTa TTJV TOV rvpawdiv tK^oXrfV rroAAovs yap ev\cTfv(rc
/cai SovAovs jtieToiKovs. TO o dfJLicr(3i^Tr]fj.a Trpos TOVTOUS ecrrtv ou rt's
7rO\tT7/S,
(30) Page 58. Take the case of the orator Lysias at Athens,
a yu,ToiKos who had shown himself as good an Athenian patriot
as if he had come in a straight line from Erechtheus, who first
had full citizenship voted to him, and then lost it on the ground
of an informality in the vote. Photios 262 (p. 490, Bekker) ;
ypd(f>ei fj.fv p-era TYJV itdOoSov paa"u(3ovXo<; iroXiTfiav avr<3, 6 Sc S^/xo?
TT/V Scopeav. 'Ap^ivos Se, 8ia TO aTrpoftovXevrov ct?a^6^vat TO
ypa a\\ai>Tos t
KCU TW irarep' iii>Ti/36\fi &o-r)Btiv rfi irdrpa.
We hear much more of this in later times.
In oligarchic Sparta the grant of citizenship was of course
far more rare and precious than in democratic Athens. Yet we
find an instance in Herodotus (ix. 33) where the full Spartan
citizenship is granted to the Eleian prophet Tisamenos and his
brother Hegias. But the story shows how rare such a favour
was, and with what difficulty the Spartans brought themselves
to grant it : STrapTi^rai 8 irpwra fiev aKovcravres Sciva roievvTO.
There is a later instance in the case of Dion of Syracuse
LECTURE IIT 255
(Plutarch, Dion, 49) which shows how completely such artificial
citizenship, when once granted, was looked on as the same thing
as citizenship by birth. Herakleitos sets up Gaisylos as fitter
to command the Syracusan forces than Dion, on the ground
of his being a Spartan. Dion, who had, like Tisamenos, been
admitted to Spartan citizenship, answers o>s elcrlv apxovres t
TOIS SvpaKOWtots, et 8e 7raWa>s OCOL /cat STrap-naVou TOIS
avros ouros clvai Kara ro&qtrtP yeyovws 2 aprian/s. Compare also
the jest of Gorgias of Leontinoi (Arist. Pol. iii. 2, 2) on the ease
with which citizens were made at Larissa ; !<>;, KaOd-rrep oA./uous
eTvai TOUS VTTO Taiv 6A/AO7roitoJ' 7T7roiT7/Aevov9, orru) *cai Aapitro-at'ovs TOUS
VTTO Toiv 8rjfj.tovp-yr)[JLCpov KWfJLV)' /tioAtoTa Se Kara v(rtv ZOIKCV rj Ktafjuj aTroiKia ouct'a?
eivai T; 8' K TrXetovwv Kwp.o<;,
as Finsbury (Finnesburh), are rarer. These last must of course
not be confounded with places which are named after mere
mortal owners. These are common enough, but they are not so
common among the original Saxon and Anglian settlements
as they are among the Danes of Lincolnshire and the Flemings
of Pembrokeshire. And, as Kemble points out, the ing form,
being so common, has sometimes thrust itself in where it has
no right; as Abira/don and Huntm^don for Abbawdun and
Huntrmdun.
The same patronymic ing, in various shapes, is also found in
many Continental names. One most interesting class is that
which has been worked out by Bluntschli (Stoats- und Kechts-
(jeschichte der Stadt und Landschaft Zurich, i. 25, referred to by
Mr. Grote, iii. 16), who shows, by tracing the names through
various forms, that the ending ikon, or iken, common in the old
LECTURE III 263
Ziirichgau, is a corruption of inghoven ; as Dellikon, for Telling-
hoven, exactly answering to our Gillingham and Doddington.
Another set will be found in Dithmarschen among the gentes
or Gesc/tkchter by whom the land was settled. See the Chronicle
of Johann Adolfi, surnamed Neocorus (edited by Dahlmann,
Kiel, 1827), i. 224. Some of the names have the ing form, as
Dickbolinginanschlecht, Wittingmanschlacht, &c.
See also Norman Conquest, i. 562, f.
(49) Page 67. On this matter should be read the essay
of Mommsen, Die Rijmischen Eigennamen, in his Rinnische
Forschungen. But I cannot follow him when he makes the
addition of the name of the di'mos at Athens (A^/ioo-flo^s
Ar7/*oo-0evot's Ilaiaviei's, for example) equivalent to the nomen
or gentile name at Rome. Ilaiavievs is not a gentile name as
such. It may happen to be so, inasmuch as many of the d>'nioi
answered to gentes ; but in itself it is not gentile but local.
Ilaiavievs in truth is not a name at all; it is merely a
description, while the gentile name Claudius or Julius is
strictly the nomen of its bearer. Except that the membership
of the d''mos was strictly hereditary, A^/xocr^c'n;? A^/ioo-^cVovs
Ilaiavievs would exactly answer to Morgan ap Morgan of
Llanfihangel or to John Johnson of Beckington, at that
stage of nomenclature when only the son of a John could be
called Johnson, and when the son of Robin Johnson would be
called Richard Robinson. A Roman was never described by his
local tribe or other local description, unless through the chance
of a local description becoming a cognomen, such as Maluginensis
and such like. The Athenian again was never spoken of as
Ilatavtei's, except as a mere description by which he was
introduced. No one would go on saying that AT/^OO-^CK?/?
Ilaiavievs, still less that ILuavievs, did so and so ; while we
do say in Latin that " Caius Julius," and even that " Julius,"
did so and so. The arrangement again of the names at Athens
and at Rome shows the difference. At Athens a man is AT;/IOCT-
6tvTjs A7;/zcKr0eVovs Tlaiavicvs. At Rome he is not " Caius
Lucii filius Julius," but " Caius Julius Lucii films." Then the
cognomen, if he have one, is added : " Caius Julius Luoii nlius
Cesar." It is the Casar, in short, not the Jiilint, which
answers to the Ilatavtcv?. The only difference is that at Athens
every man had a demotic name, and the demotic name was
264 NOTES ON
necessarily local, while at Rome a man had not necessarily a
cognomen, and the cognomen was not necessarily local. The
difference is really implied in Mommsen's own remark (p. 7) :
" Bei den Griechen schwankt noch das gentilische Ethnikon :
es findet sich -evs, -t'S^s, -ios neben einander ; die Italiker, vor
allem mit der ihnen eigenen Strenge die Homer haben das Suffix
-ius im gentilischen Ethnikon ausschliesslich durchgefiihrt."
That is to say, the demotic description, not being a nomen
or gentile name, but a legalized local cognomen, takes various
endings according to the name of the demos from which it is
formed ; the nomen or gentile name, being strictly gentile, take*
always the one ending in ius, answering to the Greek i'8>/$ and
to the Teutonic ing.
Mommsen makes a remark just before (pp. 5, 6) which is
striking, and, to say the least, worth looking into. This is that,
in such phrases as "Marcus Marci," Arj/zoo-tfeVr/s A^oo-foVous,
there was at first no ellipsis olfilius or rios- The name in the
genitive case is simply the genitive expressing property ; it is, as
he calls it, a Herrenname, pointing out under whose potestas or
mund the person spoken of was. That which is ixnder "the potestas
may be wife, son, slave, ox, or field, and the formula is the same
for all. Ccecilia Marci, Marcus Marci, are the same form
(" sprachlich und rechtlich gleichartig ") as ager Marci, or, I
suppose, as Marci par. If it be so, it would be woi'th finding
out whether the formula which names the grandfather as well
as the father, " Caius Julius Lucii filius Sexti nepos," came
in through those cases where the father was himself still in the
potestas of the grandfather.
(50) Page 67. See the passages collected by JSiebuhr (i. 327,
i. 606 of the English translation), passages which undoubtedly
prove that there was not necessarily any real kindred among
all the members of a gens. So too there is force when he says
that, if Cicero had believed all the members of a gens to have
a common origin, he would hardly have thought it enough to
say, as he does in the Topica, 6, " Gentiles sunt qui inter se
eodem nomine sunt." Adoptions and enfranchisements, even
if the gens was never enlarged in any way but these two, would
be enough to hinder there being any real connexion by blood
among all the members of the gens. But Niebuhr is clearly
wrong in inferring from this that the gentes were purely artificial
LECTURE III 265
divisions. Mr. Grote puts the case far better when he says (iii.
74) : " The basis of the whole was the house, hearth, or family
a number of which, greater or less, composed the gens or genos.
This gens was therefore a clan, sept, or enlarged, and partly
factitious brotherhood." The description given by Curtius,
G')"iechische Geschichte, i. 250, would very well describe the nature
of a gens, if he had not made the Stammvater and the Sipixchaft
alternative. He begins by saying, " Jedes Geschlecht urnfasste
eine Gruppe von Familien, welche entweder wirklich von einem
Stammvater herriihrten oder sich in alter Zeit zu einer Sippschaf t
vereinigt hatten." He then mentions the chief ties, religious
and civil, and adds, " Es war ein grosses Haus, eine enggeschlos-
sene heilige Lebensgemeinschaft." The well-known passage
of Varro, "ab ^.Emilio homine orti ^Ernilii ac gentiles," expresses
the idea of the whole thing, and it matters not whether the
supposed ^-Emilius, or rather ^Kmilus, was a real man or not
A (/ens may even have invented a forefather for itself, as
pedigree-makers do now ; but if so, they did it simply in imitation
of gentes which had real known forefathers. Every Julius was
not necessarily descended from either a real or a mythical Julus,
but the yens Julia had none the less for its kernel a body of real
kinsmen who either were, or pretended to be, descended from
a Julus, but who admitted, by adoption or naturalization, some
members who neither were nor pretended to be his descendants.
In the passage referred to in the Topica, Cicero adds to his
definition of (/entiles, " Qui ab ingenuis oriundi sunt " and
" Quorum majorum nemo servitutem servivit." But this
definition is given simply as the definition of the gentile right
to inheritance. In a wider sense, the freedman who bore the
name of the yens was surely a member of it. Compare the
dispute between the patrician and plebeian Claudii in Cicero de
Oratore, i. 39, and the remarks of Mr. Long in the Dictionary of
Antiquities, 568. In other parts of the article he follows the
notion of Niebuhr.
(51) Page 67. On the importance of legal fictions, especially
in an early state of society, see the second chapter of Sir Henry
Maine's Ancient Law.
(52) Page 67. In the cases of adoption we commonly find
that the adopted son was already a kinsman of his artificial father.
266 NOTES ON
a sister's son or the like. But, on the one hand, there was no need
that there should be any such connexion ; and, if there was, the
nephew or other kinsman was as much a stranger to the yens,
his admission to its legal and religious rites was as purely
artificial, as when the adopting parent chose some one who had
nothing to do with himself. But in either case the adopted son
became, as far as a fiction of law could make him, the real son
of his new parent. He became such for every purpose legal,
social, and religious. That is to say, the yens was an institu-
tion originally founded on community of blood, but in certain
cases an artificial kindred was allowed to take the place of a
natural one.
The orations of Isaios, the second and third, for instance,
throw great light on the process of adoption at Athens. In the
second, Ilepi TOV MevexAcous /cA^pov, the adopted son describes the
process (18) TTOI^O-OL/ACVOS eisayei /xc ts TOI>S pa.Topapa.Topae teal $iAo^opos' TOUS Se ^pdropa? CTruvay/ces Se'^ecr^ai
at rors opyeaiva? Kat TOVS o/xoyaAa/cra? ovs yewT^ras xaAovju-cv. It
does not seem clear whether the bodies among whom the adopted
son was to be admitted to membership had the power of rejecting
him. Probably they would have it at first, but it would sink
into a mere form. This, as is well known, actually happened at
Rome, where the adoption needed the formality of a lex curiata.
(53) Page 67. See note 47 on Lecture II.
(54) Page 68. There can be no doubt that the political
effects of the Roman practice of using the gentile name as
the real nomen were most important. The nomen stamped a man
as belonging to a certain gens. He could not be spoken of
without himself and others being reminded of the gens to which
he belonged. At Athens an Alkmaionid himself knew, and
everybody else knew, that he was an Alkmaionid, but they were
not in the same way reminded of it every time he was spoken of.
LECTURE III 267
There can be no doubt that this had a great effect on the here-
ditary character which we see so strongly marked on the great
Roman families. We know beforehand the policy which a
Fabius, a Valerius, or a Claudius must follow. The same thing
revives in the Middle Ages, when surnames revive. The truth
is that there is nothing so really aristocratic as a surname. And
this bears on a remark which I have made in the last lecture,
that a real aristocracy can exist only in a republic. When the
title of a peer is changed in each generation (sometimes, as in
the case of the first Duke of Leeds, several times in the
same lifetime), the (/entile sentiment may possibly live on
within the family itself, but it is quite lost among the outer
world, who have to ask at each stage who he is. No doubts of
the kind can arise when a man, instead of a mere title, inherits
the name of Fabius, Erlach, or Reding.
(55) Page 68. See above, note 26.
(56) Page 69. On the Doric tribes see Grote ii. 479, 0.
Miiller, Dorians ii. 76 (Eng. Gr.). The point is that, as the
three tribes, Hylleis, Pamphyloi, and Dymanes, seem to have
been found in all Dorian settlements everywhere a point which
seems to be fully proved by Herod, v. 68 it would follow that
these tribes are older than the migrations which took the
Dorians into Peloponnesos and Crete. In this last we must
remember that the threefold division was recognized in the time
of Homer, witness the Awpts TC Tpixai/cts of the Odyssey
(xix. 1 74). That is to say, these tribes must be as old, or older,
than the occupation of the primitive northern Doris; and we
may be inclined to suspect that they were older, because their
names bear no relation to the names of the four old Dorian
towns. We are thus led to look upon these tribes as the oldest
known elements of the Dorian people, and it would seem that
in every Dorian settlement members of each of these tribes
took a share. And the name of the Pamphyloi would seem
to show that that tribe at least was an aggregate mixde
up of smaller tribes. These tribes, or at least the u>/3oi
of which they were formed, went on to the very latest times.
The local divisions, handed on from the pne-Dorian time, went
on alongside of them, like the Attic 8/fioi, or like the local tribes
of Rome alongside of the yenle*. The difference, of course, was
268 NOTES ON
that in this case the divisions of the conquerors and of those
of the conquered went on together, while at Athens we have
110 sign of conquest. The w/3pa.Tpia to express a Spartan v\davTa KCU w/8a?
w/3afavTa rpiaKOvra, ycpovcriav crvv d/a^ayeVais /caracrTT/crai/Ta, wpas e
aipas a7reAAaeiv .... Sa/za> 8' ayopav eT/xev KOL Kparos. Plutarch
goes on to explain that apxayerai means the Kings, and that
a.TrcXXdeiv means e/cKA.7/o-iaeu/ ; but he cannot avoid the belief
that Lykourgos divided the Spartan people into tribes and w/3cu,
just as it is a common English belief that JElfred divided England
into shires and hundreds.
(57) Page 69. I think I can see something of the kind
in the story of the Pelasgian inhabitants of Attica in Herod,
vi. 137, Thucydides ii. 17 (where see Arnold's note), Pausanias i.
28, 3, Strabo ix. 1 (ii. 241). etp^rai 8' on Ka.VTo.vQa. ^atVerai TO
TWV TLeXaaywv $vos 'nri$T)p.r) Trposc^e?. TaTios oe TO
KaTTlTOJ/XlOV, O7Tp ^ dpX^S KaTO-^C, Kttt TOV KvplVlOV O~)(6oV. It
will be remembered that the space between the two was the
Comitia, and that the gate of Janus was opened in time of war
to allow the allied communities to give help to one another.
(63) Page 70. The difference between genealogical and
local tribes is well brought out by Dionysios, iv. 14, when he is
describing the changes made by Servius : 'O 8e TvAAto? ....
ets Tcro-apa p-fpr] SieAwv T?)V TroXw .... TTpd(f>vXov 7rot^o-e TT/V
TroAtv civat, Tpiv\ov ouo-av Tews, Kal TOV? avOpwirovs ra.f TOUS ev
eKcio-rr) fj-oipa TO>V Terrapcov oixowTa?, wo-Trep KO)yu,7;Tas, .... K? irporepov, aXXa
Kara TO.S Tro-apas Tas TOTTIKCI?, Kat Tas v' eavTou
(64) Page 70. The usual version of the coming of the
Claudian tribe places it a few years after the driving out of the
Kings. Mommsen, however (Romische Forschungen, 72), refers
it to a much earlier time, following the tradition preserved by
Suetonius, Tib. 1. " Inde [Regillis] Romam recens conditam
cum magna clientum manu commigravit, auctore Tito Tatio
consorte Romuli." Mommsen's words are :
" Das Factum selbst scheint glaubwlirdiger als die meisten
iibrigen Angaben in diesem alteren Theil der Annalen, aber
natiirlich war dasselbe urspriinglich zeitlos liberliefert und ist nur
von dem spa tern falschen Pragmatisrnus mit dem Sabinerkrieg
des Poplicola verkniipft worden die Einwanderung des claud-
ischen Stammes muss viel friiher fallen, dass eine der Landtribus
altester Einrichtung nach ihn benannt ist und das Geschlecht,
obwohl es in den alteren Fasten keine hervorragende Rolle spielt,
doch bereits im J. 259 in der Consulartafel erscheint."
It might be said in answer to this that family vanity would
be likely to thrust back the incorporation of the Claudii with the
Roman State to an earlier time, while, if the Claudii had been
Sabines simply in the sense of being Titienses the statement in
LECTURE III 271
Suetonius, as it stands, is clearly a mixture of two stories it is
not easy to see how the tale of their later origin could arise.
Anyhow the accounts given by Livy and Dionysios set clearly
before us the kind of process which would happen in such a case
the addition at once of a Patrician gens and of a local tribe.
Livy (ii. 16) thus tells the story; " Attus Clausus, cui postea
Ap. Claudio fuit Romae nomen . . . . ab Regillo, magna clientiuni
comitatus manu, Romam transfugit. His civitas data agerque
trans Anienem ; vetus Claudia tribus, additis postea novis
tribulibus, qui ex eo venirent agro, appellata." The migration is
again refei'red to in speeches in iv. 3, x. 8. So Dionysios, v. 40,
O.VTJP Tts /c TOV Sa/JtVwv l$vous TroXiv O'IKWV 'PijyiXXov, evycvTjs KOI
Xpr)fjia. >v KOI \)\r) TIS eyevcro (rvv ^pova), KAavSia KoXou/tcn/.
The other new local tribes, formed out of allies or subjects
admitted to citizenship, were added pretty constantly down to
B.C. 299, when the Tribes Aniensis and Terentina were added
(Livy, x. 9). There is then a gap till B.C. 241, when the last
two Tribes, Velina and Quirina, were added (Livy, Epit. 19).
This marks a stage in the history of commonwealths in general,
the stage when they feel that they have no further need
of fresh citizens, and when the selfish and exclusive feeling
begins to prevail (see p. 163). But in this case it should be-
remembered that these successive additions had made the ager
Rovumus reach, and indeed outstrip, the fullest extent of territory
which could be occupied by a single city-community.
(65) Page 72. See Norman Conquest, iv. 415. The whole
history of the word is drawn out by Gibbon, chap. 21 (vol. iii. p.
402, Milrnan).
(66) Page 73. It is a certain trial of faith to believe that
the word " heathen " has nothing to do with the Greek c#i 1*0? :
but it is, in its different forms, good English, good High-German,
and good Gothic ; h'H'Sno from /uli'Si.
272 NOTES ON
(67) Page 74. I have discussed this elsewhere at some length.
Norman Conquest, ii. 587.
(68) Page 74. Even Anselm is " Angloruni Archiepi-
scopus," at least in the mouths of Irishmen and of the Pope. See
Eadmer, Hist. Nov. Lib. ii. pp. 393-414, Migne. On the speci-
ally territorial style of the Bishops of the South-Saxons see
Norman Conquest, ii. 592.
The territorial styles of many American and colonial Bishops
are therefore, from an English or British point of view, more
primitive than those which are taken from cities.
(69) Page 75. I have touched somewhat slightly on the
nature of the Mark in the History of the Norman Conquest, i.
83, and still more slightly in the Growth of the English Con-
stitution, p. 10. The great English authority on the subject is,
of course, Mr. Kemble's chapter on the Mark, in the first volume
of his Saxons in England. Before that, the nature of the early
Teutonic settlements had been worked out by various German
writers, from Jacob Grimm (Deutsche Rechtsalterthiimer, 495, et
seqq.) onwards, especially in the chapter of Waitz in the first
volume of his Deutsche Verfassungsgeschichte, Das Dorf, die
Gemeinde, der Gau. Since Mr. Kemble wrote, the subject has
been dealt with more at large, though, on the whole, from a
somewhat different point of view, in the great works of Maurer,
Einleitung zur Geschichte der Mark-, Hof- und Stadtverfassuny
(Miinchen, 1854), Geschichte der Markenverfassung in Deutsch-
Jand (Erlangen, 1856), Geschichte der Dorfverfassung in Deutsch-
land (Erlangen, 1866), for which works Sir Henry Maine, in his
Village Communities, has become a sort of sponsor to English
readers. The Mark, in its strictness, is of course the boundary,
the strip of uncultivated land left between the land occupied by
one settlement and the land occupied by its neighbour. The
Markgenossenschaft is the body of settlers, that is, in my view, the
gens or clan, by whom the land was first occupied. Here we
have the lowest territorial and political unit, to be found alike
in India, Greece, Italy, Germany, and England, and out of the
union of which with other marks, cities, tribes, and nations
gradually grew.
(70) Page 75. The common occupation of land by the
members of the Markgenossenschaft has been the point which,
LECTURE III 273
since the researches of Maurer (see Einleitung, 40), and more
lately of Nasse and Sir Henry Maine, has drawn to itself most
attention. This concerns me only as being the earliest form of
J'olkland a name which should never be uttered without a feeling
of thankfulness to the memory of John Allen of which I have
said a word or two in the History of the Norman Conquest, i.
pp. 83, 94, 589, and on the political aspect of which I have found
something to say at p. 139 of the Growth of the English
Constitution.
(71) Page 75. The original kindred between the members
of the Markyenosseiuchaft, allowing, of course, for adoptions and
admissions (on which see Maurer, Dorfverfassung, i. 175, cf.
Einlrittmg, 13), is strongly set forth by Mr. Kemble, i. 56.
"I represent them to myself as great family unions, com-
prising households of various degrees of wealth, rank, and
authority : some, in direct descent from the common ancestors,
or from the hero of the particular tribe ; others, more distantly
connected, through the natural result of increasing population,
which multiplies indeed the members of the family, but removes
them at every step further from the original stock ; some,
admitted into communion by marriage, others by adoption ; others
even by emancipation ; but all recognizing a brotherhood, a kins-
manship or sibsceaft ; all standing together as one unit in respect
of other, similar communities ; all governed by the same judges
and led by the same captains ; all sharing in the same religious
rites, and all known to themselves and to their neighbours by
one general name."
Mr. Kemble refers to the passage of Csesar, vi. 22, " Neque
quisquam agri modum certum, aut fines habet proprios ; sed
magistratus ac principes in annos singulos yentibits oognationi-
busque hominum qui una coierint quantum et art of a larger whole ; or again when, as happened to
many of the Continental yaueu, a yau is cut up into several
280 NOTES ON
smaller gauen, or has its boundaries otherwise altered. Thus,
when the great T/iurgau was divided, the Ziirichgau, and the
other smaller gauen which were made out of it, would be literally
shires parts shorn off from a greater whole. It is certain too
that, though we find the word scir as early as the time of Ine, it
is only from about the tenth century that we find it actually
added to the names of districts. It is certain also that there
are many English counties to which the name shire has never
been applied down to our own times. It is further certain, as
Mr. Kemble has shown, that we have traces of earlier divisions
divisions earlier than the tenth century which sometime!*
agree with, and sometimes differ from, our present divisions. (See
Kemble, i. 78-84.) The inference I make from all this is the
same which I made in Appendix E to the first volume of the
Norman Conquest, namely that those shires which are not called
after a town, but which have a territorial name of their own,
are strictly gauen, or, when they are mediatized kingdoms, groups
of gauen. Thus, in Kent and Sussex, the lathe and the rajje,
divisions between the hundred and the county, would answer to
the gnu. Elsewhere, where the county is called after a town,
it is strictly a shire, something shorn off or otherwise divided
afresh. Thus, as I have tried to show in the Appendix already
referred to, the Mercian counties are strictly shires, divisions
mapped out afresh by Eadward the Elder, after the recovery of
the country from the Danes. Thus again, we do not hear of
Yorkshire by that name till the second half of the eleventh cen-
tury. It was a shire, shorn off from the original Northumberland,
part of which still kept the elder name. And it is a shire which
was further shorn into smaller shires, one of which, Bichmonct-
shire, could not have borne that name till the foundation of Rich-
mond Castle after the Norman Conquest. But, on the other hand,
looking on Yorkshire in its older estate as the kingdom of Deira,
we may look on it as made up of earlier gauen, Elmet, Craven,
Cleveland, and so forth. The gau, in short, is a natural associa-
tion ; the shire is an artificial division. The two may or may not
coincide. But they very often do, and, in any case, the shire is
the division which answers to and represents the gau, even when
it represents it only by way of supplanting it.
In the Appendix of which I have already spoken I have said
something about the names of particular counties. I have not
mentioned there, though I think I have mentioned it elsewhere,
LECTURE III 281
that in the Chronicles and in the Exchequer Domesday, Devon-
shire is always spoken of as a shire (Defenascir), while Somerset
and Dorset keep the tribal names (on Sumorscetan, on Dorscetan).
And this is the more remarkable, because in the Exeter Domes-
day we do sometimes find such a name as " Summersetae syra," so
that the use of the tribal form in the Exchequer Domesday has
the force of a correction.
Wherever, as I think really is the case in one or two instances,
a modern French Department exactly answers to an ancient
duchy or county, the distinction between the two would be exactly
the same as that between the gau and the shire, and in the other
case, when an ancient province was shorn into several depart-
ments, we see the creation of shires in the literal sense.
(83) Page 81. See above, note 79.
(84) Page 81. See Norman Conquest, i. 25-27. I have
there quoted the description given by Henry of Huntingdon of
the growth of East Anglia and Mercia ; but the passage of
William of Malmesbury (i. 44) there referred to is worth giving
at length : " Annis enim uno minus centum, Northanhimbri
duces communi habitu contenti, sub imperio Cantuaritarum pri-
vates agebant ; sed non postea stetit hsec ambitionis continentia,
sen quia semper in deteriora declivus est hum anus animus, sen
quia gens ilia naturaliter inflatiores anhelat spiritus. Anno itaque
Dominicse incarnationisquingentesimoquadragesimo septimo, post
mortem Heugesti sexagesimo, ducatus in regnurn mutatus, regna-
vitque ibi primus Ida, haud dubie nobilissiinus, letate et viribus
integer ; verum utrum ipse per se principatutn invaserit, an aliorum
consensu delatum susceperit, parum definio, quia est in abdito
veritas : cseterum satis constat magna et vetere pi-osapia oriun-
dum, puris et defwcatis moribus multum splendoris generosis con-
tulisse natalibus."
(85) Page 82. The truth that the Teutonic element in French
exactly answers to the Romance element in English is somewhat
disguised by the fact tliat, for some centuries past, it has been
the fashion for English to borrow a crowd of French or Latin
words, while the number of German, English, or other Teutonic
words which have found their way into French during the same
period is comparatively small. But, if we look to those words
282 NOTES ON
which make up the real substance of the two languages, we shall
see that the analogy is a perfectly true one. There is however
this difference. In English we have two, perhaps three, classes
of Romance words which have become thoroughly naturalized
/xeVotKoi admitted to the full franchise while in French there is
only one such class of Teutonic words. The number of Teutonic
words which made their way into the Latin of Gaul during the
time of the Gothic, Burgundian, and Frankish conquests, and
which survive in the modern Pro verbal and French tongues, is
really very large, far larger than any one would think at first
sight, far larger than the number of Celtic words which have
crept in on the other side from the native languages of the
country. Still, large as the infusion is, it is merely an infusion,
and it in no way affects the essentially Latin character of the
two modern languages of Gaul. But this Teutonic infusion into
the Romance of Gaul answers to a threefold Romance infusion
into the Teutonic of Britain. There is, first of all, the half-dozen
words which the Romans left behind them, and which the
English took \\p, just as we now take up native names for native
things in India and elsewhere. Secondly, there is the larger
group of Latin words, either ecclesiastical or expressing some
foreign idea, which came in between the coming of Augustine and
the coming of William. These two together would be outnum-
bered over and over again by the Teutonic that is the Frankish
infusion in French. This is the natural result of the difference
between a destroying conquest, like that of the English in
Britain, and a colonizing conquest, like that of the Franks in
Gaul. But the tables are turned the other way by the third, the
Norman, infusion, under which I reckon those Romance words
which it needs historical or philological knowledge to recognize for
Romance words, as distinguished from those which, by their
endings or otherwise, betray their foreign origin at first sight.
All these three classes must be looked on as thoroughly natural-
ized in English, just as the Frankish words are naturalized in
French. But one of the gradual results of the Norman Conquest
and of the establishment of French for a while as the polite
speech in England events to which there is no parallel in
France after it became France has been to set a fashion of
bringing in Romance words, and even Romance endings, into
English, while nothing has ever set the fashion of bringing a
German or English as distinguished from an Old-Teutonic
LECTURE III 283
infusion into French. For instance, we do not scruple to add a
Romance ending to a Teutonic root, and thus to make such a
mongrel word as starvation, while French adopts such a word as
meeting, but it does not add on the ending ing to roots of its own.
Still the greater Romance infusion in English, and the lesser
Teutonic infusion in French, both remain infusions, and do not
affect the substance of either language. With a little care,
Teutonic words may be avoided in French, and with somewhat
more care, Romance words may be avoided in English. The
opposite process in either language is impossible.
(86) Page 82. The transitional days of European history, the
days of the Wandering of the Nations and of the Frankish
dominion, will not be fully understood as regards Italy, unless
we bear in mind that Venice belongs, in all but geographical
position, to the eastern side of the Hadriatic, and not to the
western. The Venetian islands are the one piece of the earlier
Western Empire which escaped Teutonic conquest. They re-
mained part of the Eastern Empire fjfifis SouAot, 6i\op.v clvcu TOV
'PoyuuW /Jao-tAews till they were strong enough to build up a
dominion of their own at the expense of both Empires.
(87) Page 83. See the Essay on Ancient Greece and Mediaeval
Italy, in Historical Essays, Second Series.
(88) Page 83. Nomenclature alone, without any help from
recorded history, is commonly enough to tell us which of our
towns are of purely English origin. A Roman site most com-
monly makes itself known, if not by some corruption of its earlier
name, at any rate by the word Ceaster in its various shapes. Of
most of our purely English towns, like Bristol or Oxford, all we
can say is, that we first hear of them at a given time, without
having any record of their foundation. Of others, like Taunton
in the eighth century, like the long string of places fortified by
Eadward and ^thelflted in the tenth century, we know when
they became fortresses, but it does not follow that that was the
time when they first became dwellings of men. Another class of
towns grew up round some great monastery, or, more rarely, as
at Wells and Wnltham, round a secular church. In the cases of
Durham in the tenth century and New Salisbury in the thirteenth,
church and city were founded together. But we have few towns
284 NOTES ON
in England of which we can safely say that they were called into
being, like the cities founded by the Successors of Alexander, at
the personal bidding of a King. Such however is Kingston-on-
Hull, the work of the great Edward, and such also are several of
the Welsh towns. In Bluntschli, Stoats- und Rechtsgeschickte der
Stadt und LandscJutft Zurich, we can trace out the steps by which
a city arose out of a royal house, a monastery, a church of secular
canons, and a primitive Markgenossenschaft, all standing side by
side.
(89) Page 84. On the Five Boroughs, see Norman Conquest,
i. 61 ; and on Lincoln, the greatest of them, iv. 208 ; on Exeter,
and the chance which it had in 1068 of becoming the head of
a confederation of boroughs, see iv. 138.
(90) Page 84. The whole history of Bern, the greatest
example in modern times of an inland city ruling over a great
collection of subject towns and districts, is throughout eminently
Roman. Liibeck, on the other hand, the head of the great
commercial confederacy, as naturally suggests Carthage.
(91) Page 84. On this phrase, the proper title of the old
Swiss Confederation, see Historical Essays, First Series, 352.
The name " Swiss " and " Switzerland," though they had long
been in familiar use, did not form part of the formal style
of the Confederation till 1803.
(92) Page 84. Verona, I need hardly say, is Dietrichsbern ;
and I have seen the Burgundian Bern called " Verona in monti-
bus." The two names must surely have the same origin. The
identification can hardly be so purely artificial as that which has
turned Bormio into Worms. But what is the real origin ] One
thing alone is certain, that Bern has etymologically nothing to
do with bears.
(93) Page 85. This is a subject which I must some day
find an opportunity of discussing at length. I trust that I
have shown, in a paper in Macmillan's Magazine (July 1870),
that the handing of Roman institutions to our own forefathers
is simply impossible ; but I find that, since then, the writer
LECTURE III 2S5
against whom I then argued, Mr. H. C. Coote, has again revived
the notion, and supported it with the same curious plausibility
against Dr. Brentano, in a paper on the Ordinances of some
Secular Guilds of London, reprinted from the Transactions of
the London and Middlesex Archaeological Society.
(94) Page 87. See Historical Essays, First Series, pp. 153,
154.
286 NOTES ON
IV
(1) Page 89. See above, note 22 on Lecture II., and Bryce,
Holy Roman Empire, 192.
(2) Page 89. Bryce, Holy Roman Empire, 233.
(3) Page 90. This is the way in which the comparative and
superlative /Jao-tXevrepos and /JaonAcvTaTos are used in the Iliad.
Thus, ix. 69 :
'A.Tpei$ij, ffv fj.fV &px e , ov yap 0affi\vrar6s tffffi.
Ka.1 fnol viroari\T(a, offffov 0affi\(vrfp6s el/j.i. (ix. 160.)
is yevtrjv dp6uv, /ir;5' et /3aepew, KCLL ft?
iroo-ov xpoVov. I n hi next chapter he goes on to discuss other
cases of a temporary revival of kingly power under other names ;
r)vayKs ov8' oo-iov crfyicriv
as KaTe'Xuo-av e^ovo-tas op/cois Kal dpats CTTI^CO-TTIO-CXVTWV ^ewv
TrdAiv e^TreSow. In either case, whether the office was
held for a time or for life, the holder of it was not necessarily
succeeded by another aio-v/xvr/T^s. In truth the Roman Empire,
down at least to Diocletian, was in form, as being in each case
the subject of a special grant, a government of the same kind.
A regular magistracy for life, such as that of the perpetual
Gonfaloniere in the reformed Florentine Constitution of 1502,
is by no means usual. The Spartan Kings and the Venetian
Doge are not exceptions. The King and the Doge were not
mere magistrates, but princes, though cut down to the lowest
amount of power. Priesthoods, both at Rome and elsewhere,
were commonly held for life ; but that was because they were
not magistracies.
(8) Page 91. See Allen on the Royal Prerogative, 93-98.
(9) Page 91. Waitz, Deutsclie Verfassungsyeschichte, iii. 61.
" Bei den germanischen Volkern, konnte man sagen, erlangte sie
fur den christlichen Kb'nig eine ahnliche Bedeutung, wie in
heidnischen Zeit die Zuriickflihrung des koniglichen Geschlechts
auf die Gb'tter gehabt hatte."
(10) Page 92. Inquiry into the Rise and Growth of the
Royal Prerogative in England. By John Allen. New edition,
London, 1849.
(n) Page 92. See Allen, pp. 14, 172.
(12) Page 93. See the well-known verses in the Iliad (ii.
102) about the descent of the sceptre, which, if they do nothing
LECTURE IV 289
else, show distinctly to my mind that the story of the Lydian
origin of Pelops is no real primitive legend. Cf. i. 277 :
v, Tlr}\elSri, 6e\' fpt^f^fv
Tjl', tirel 06 Tro6' 6/j.oirjs tp.fj.opf Ttfj.rjs
ovxos &affi\tvs, yrt Ztvs KvSos tStaKfv.
ii. 205 :
els /3afft\fvs, y fSwKf Kp6vov irats ayKv\ofj. j fiTftt>.
[ffieriirTp6v r' r/Se Offniffras, ?KX trry, ws ov% aTravras
Trapa TOU Aios l^ovra? TO (TKrfTnpov ov8c TT/V dp^ryv Tavnrjv, aAAa p.6vov<;
TOVS ayaOovs. He goes on with a description of what a King ought
to be. When one finds the Homeric doctrine of the transmission
of the royal authority from Zeus confined to good Kings only,
one is tempted to wonder at finding the Wickliffite tenet of
dominion being founded on grace already set forth in a discourse
addressed to Trajan.
I need hardly add that the succession of Jewish Kings from
father to son, from David to the sons of Josiah, and of French
Kings from Hugh Capet to Lewis the Tenth, are the most
striking examples in history of direct succession in any royal
house.
(13) Page 93. It is worth while to read the account which
Plutarch (Theseus, 32) gives of the accession of Menestheus at
Athens, and how he stirred the people up during the absence of
Theseus. He was himself sprung from the stock of Erechtheus ;
but he was, according to Plutarch's story, the earliest demagogue ;
Trporros, w? os
X<*p iv ox^V 8iaAc'yeo-0ai. Cf. Pausanias, i. 16, 5, 6. But in
the Homeric Catalogue (ii. 552, and in iv. 328) he appears as
a &iarpi)9, ai rtav 7rpo9 TOV Otovg
Ktynos.
(15) Page 94. Odyssey, i. 394.
&AA' T^roi Pa(Ti\T)fS 'A^oiWP e/oi Kttl &AAol
n-oAAol V d./j.id\(f! 'WaKfi, vtoi 7)5t TraAatof.
Bo amongst the Phaiakians (Odyssey, viii. 390) :
ScaSfKO. yap KOTck STJ/J.OV ctpcn-ptWes Ba ourjj.
And they had already been spoken of as (fKrjirfov\oL patfiXfjet;,
viii. 40. Hesiod too (Works and Days, 200, 246, 259, 261)
speaks of /3av rrjv A-o^mv e/c/cA^criav, oi/o/Aacrarw
re TOV? yae'AAovTas eeiv rrjv ft&httvff&v (3av ol TrActerroi TT/V c^ovat'av aurwv irepieAo/ttvot, /JLOVOV TO
^t'tiv rots foots direAiTrov. 'Pw/xaioi 8e TravTaTracri TOVS /3ao-iAei
s, aAAov c^-l ras Qvaias Ira^av, oi/r' dp^eiv av T/)v r/ye/toviav /xovov eT^ov.
On this last clause see below, note 20.
(18) Page 95. A still stronger proof would be that the
Emperors themselves so constantly held the actual consulship,
always once at least in each reign, and often much oftener ; that,
when they were not Consuls, they were invested with consular
power; and that though they could not be actual Tribunes
because of the adoption of the plebeian Octavius into the patrician
gens Julia they not only held the tribunician power, but they
looked on it as the main source of their authority. See below,
note 42.
(19) Page 95. -The Spartan kingship was, in the ideas of
Aristotle (Pol. iii. 14), a real kingship, not a mere survival, like
the priestly kingships already mentioned. It is rather, in his
eyes, the best example of a lawful kingship : fj yap ev ry AaKaJvi/o)
TroAtrei'a Soicet p.ev etvat /Jao'jAei'a /AaXwrra TWV Kara v6fj.ov, OVK ecrri 8e
Kvpia TraiTwv, aAX' OTO.V e^eXOr] rrjv -^(apav, fjyefjuav cart TWV Trpos rov
fl-dXc/Aov, In Se ra Trpos row? $eovs obroSe'SoTai TOIS ^SacriAeSo-tv. avrq
l*.lv ovv TI fiacfiXeia. otov a-Tpa-rrjyia TIS avroKpaToptov icai dfStos TTIV.
Afterwards he calls it (rTparrjyia 8ia (3tov, and o>s flirelv a7rAa>5
a-Tpa-rrjyia Kara yevos diSios. But, on the other hand, there is
something remarkable in the way in which Herodotus (vi.
56-58) sums up the privileges of the Spartan Kings, without
noticing that they do not take in anything which comes
under the ordinary idea of government. Thucydides, on the
other hand (i. 131), notices it as something strange that the
Ephors had the power of arresting the King (es p.ev rrjv eipxTT/v
csTrnrrei TO irpuirov VTTO rutv l(f)6p(av' fe6ovr)(racra TOV TpoTeTL/j.rjo'Oai aurous, erre^ei'/DT^o'e
KaTaAvom T^V apxrjv avriav, oi Tf. (3a(TiXti' otsTrtp e^ ap^9 rrjv j3aa-L\elav Trape'AaySov. TOiyapow
LECTURE IV 293
ovoffjiia. apxn fawtpo- tern Siayeyeir^evTi dSiacrTrcwrTos ovrt
or)/j.oKpaTia ovrc o\(.yap^ia ovre Tvpavvis ovrc y8a66vov e/i,7rot^crai T^S
Dionysios, in the speech assigned to Brutus, which
I have quoted several times, makes the deliverer speak of the
consulship as following the model of the Spartan kingship. The
power of the Roman Consul was certainly greater than that of
the Spartan Kings. But an hereditary office is essentially
different- from one held by yearly election. The Spartan
kingship was real kingship with its powers cut very short : the
consulship was the kingly power put into perpetual commission.
(20) Page 96. We have several notices of the Argeian
Kings. Pausanias (ii. 19, 1) mentions that, from the reign of
a certain King Medon, the royal power became merely nominal,
and that after Meltas, who is placed (Clinton. Fast. Hell. i. 249)
in the days of Kleisthenes of Sikyon, kingship was abolished
altogether ; 'Apyctoi Sc, are lirrjyopiu.v KCU TO avrovofiov dyaTroirre?
CK TraXa.iora.Tov, TO. TTJS e^ovcrias TOJV ftao-tXetav cs eXa^icrTov 7rpo7/yayov,
vi TO Kturou KCU rols aTroydvot? TO oVo/xa Aei^>^vai TT}S
p-ovov. Me'A.Tuv 8e TOV AaKi'8ou TUV aTrdyovoi' M7/8wi'os TO
irapdirav fira.vo~fv ap^5 /caTuyvovs o 8^/109. It is plain however
that kingship went on much longer. There is a story told by
Plutarch 'in his treatise irtpl TT}? 'A\fdvopov n'^? T/ upeT?}?
(ii. 8), according to which kingship had such a hold at Argos
that, when the old Herakleid line died out, another King was
chosen, in obedience of course to divine signs ; t^e'AiTrev 'Apyti'ois
TTOT TO 'llf*u(\fiojp'#7 Atywv. He has another reference
to this election of Aigon in his treatise on the Pythian oracles
(5), where he speaks casually of ^p^cr/Aou TIVOS e/x/xcVpou Xe^^tVro?,
ot/tat, Trepl TT/S Aiywvos TOU 'Apyeiou /JeuriAeias. But the most
important, notice is that in the well-known passage of Herodotus
(vii. 148, 149), where he tells us how, on the coming of Xerxes,
the Argeians claimed, if they joined in the defence of Greece,
to have an equal share in the command with the Lacedaemonians.
The Lacedaemonians answered that, as they had two Kings,
while the Argeians had only one, the command could not be
equally divided. Neither of the Spartan Kings could be deprived
of his vote, but they were ready to allow the Argeian King a
third vote along with their own two (Aeyeiv l p*v elvat 8vo
/3aortA.Tja.9, 'Apyeiouri Se era* OVKWV Swarov elvat TOIV (
TOV 'Apyeiav tlvai KtoXveii/ ouSev). It would seem from this passage
that the Argeian King, whatever his position may have been
in other ways, at least retained the military command. The
Spartans would never have proposed to give an equal vote
with their own Kings to a magistrate whose functions were
merely civil or priestly. The Argeian King would thus be
one of the class spoken of by Aristotle in the extract in Note 17.
(21) Page 96. We get a vivid mention of the King-archon
at Athens and his functions in the opening of the oration of
Lysias against Andokides. He puts the possible case of so
impious a person as Andokidos drawing the successful lot for
this archonship : av vwl 'AvSoja'S?;? o.$uk>9 aTroAAayrJ fjfjuov /c -roSSe
TOU dyaivos KOL eXOrj /cXiypwcro/xevos Ttov ewe'a dp^ovrwv KOU Xa^r;
/SacrtXev?. He goes on to speak of a great number of religious
duties which the King had to discharge. But presently he has
to bring in the word in its more usual sense ; for he goes on to
say that Andokides, in the course of his travels, had been a
flatterer of many Kings, among which class Dionysios of Syracuse
is reckoned by implication (/SacrtXeas TroAAors KcoA.aKi;/cev, u> av
(vyyfVTjTcu, irX.i)v TOV 'Svpa.Kovcrtov Aioia-o-t'ov). Dionysios, according
to the orator, was a match for AndokidOf, and would not be
taken in by him.
The wife of the King-archon was /?ao-t'A.wr0-a, as the wife
of the Eoman " rex sacrorum " was called " regina." (Cf.
Pseudo-Dem, c. Neser. 98.)
LECTURE IV 295
Besides the King-archon, there was another survival of
kingship at Athens in the form of the Phylobasileis, who seem
to be the same as the fiaaiXeis spoken of in the law of Solon
quoted by Plutarch (Solon, 19). Plutarch seems directly after-
wards to speak of them as Trpirraveis. Very little seems to be
known about the nature of their duties, but it is with their
kingly title alone that we are now concerned. They must, one
would think, have been the Kings of the four Ionic tribes before
they were thoroughly fused into one commonwealth, something
like the local Under-kings of the West-Saxons. In any case,
they are another instance of the kingly title continuing to be
held after all kingly power bad passed away, and that by
magistrates who held no very important place in the common-
wealth.
(22) Page 97. Mommsen, probably with truth, looks on the
whole legend of Romulus as comparatively late. The real
ancient name of the city lurks in that of the Ramnes, and the
(TT(aw(jM' ov KO.T ivuivTov ^px^ apx^v' while in the 49th we
have the usual form, apxovros 'Adrjvrja-i TAt/o-ia. So Pausanias
(vii. 2, 1) describes the sons of Kodros as disputing about the
succession after his death, and uses the word ftao-iXevtiv OVK
eaks of her
son Xerxes as ofy wrtv6wo9 8oy/xa.
In this last we have a forestalling of the great doctrine of the
Civil Law, though the Greek rhetorician does not stop to trouble
himself with any theories about the " lex regia." I conceive
that, though the King or Archon was still appointed for life,
yet he became subject, like the magistrates who came after him,
to the obligations of the formal SoKipao-ia and evOvvrj. This is
quite another thing from a possible power of deposition, which,
even if legally recognized, must always be something extra-
ordinary and unusual. Some confusion between this state of
things and the King-archon of the confirmed democracy may
be traced in the words of the Pseudo-Demosthenes against Neaira
(98) : eirfiSrj 8c &TJ(TV7ros eyevero, TOV /aev /JacriAe'a ouSev ^TTOV 6 8^/ios
r/pciro TrpOKpiYwv /car' av8paya#tav ^ciporovwv. This last state-
ment leaves out of sight the fact that the kingship or archonship
was confined to the single house of Kodros. In fact, at this
stage of the Athenian constitution, the King or Archon, hereditary
or at most chosen out of a single family, holding his office for
life, but responsible for its administration, must have been
exactly like the Spartan King, except that he had no colleague.
(31) Page 99. See Historical Essays, Second Series, p. 126.
(32) Page 99. Dion Cassius (Ixix. 16). 'ASpiavos .... TO,
Atovucrta, TT)V //.eyiOTT/v Trap' avrots ap^rjv apas, ev TT/ ei, wv rjyom-ro
trr in/trua Trpooraertlji and
avTOKptiVwp, and (in ii. 1-3) there is also a description of the
powers granted to both the elder and the younger Caesar. The
passages are much too long to quote in full ; but it should be
noted that this writer, writing in Greek in the sixth century
but in a thoroughly Roman character, distinctly denies the
power of the Emperors to be either y3ao-tA.a or rvpawi'?. eo-ri
yap j8atrtA.u>$ p.ev TpoTTOs 6 vd/tov, rvpdwov Se vd/ios 6 TpoTnos. TO
yap rtav Kat(rapa)v ^yow avroKpardpcuv 7ra)w/)tov ouSc fia.V /cotvuiv $opv/8ous TTI TO
KoAAlOV. 7TtTaTTCtV T TW O-TpaTV/AttTt 7TW? ttV Scot flO.^(fa-&a.L TOIS
tvavrtol?- imperare yap TO eTriTciTTetv Trap' 'iTaXots Xc'yeTai, IvOtv lp.ire-
parajp. All this has the force of a protest, when we remember how
familiarly the name of /SatriAeus had for ages been applied to the
Emperors. Lydus very naturally sets down Marius and Sulla as
Tyrants : but, what we should hardly have looked for, he sets
down Romulus as a Tyrant also, and argues at some length that
the Latin Rex answers to the Greek Tvpawos. There is not a
glimmei'ing to be seen of the great dispute about pry and
three hundred years later.
(43) Page 103. See above, note 18.
(44) Page 103. -Theodoric was undoubtedly Consul, though
his patriciate stands out more conspicuously in history. Both
he and Odoacer were Patricians by Imperial commission. For
the patriciate of Odoacer see the fragment of Malchos in the
Bonn edition, p. 235. The Senate asks Z<-n6n to bestow that
rank on Odoacer ; Trorpuaou T aurtiva.L BioiKTjo-iVj and the Emperor does so accord-
ingly, (3av r)f3ov\tTO TrtfiirMV T<3 'O8oa^w,
jrarpiKiov tv Tovrta Tu5 ypdff.fta.Ti C7rv TO dito/z,a. CTTI TO> Ba.vSiA.ovs
vevi/cr/Kevai, ravn/5 In e^o/xevos, eTreiS?) Trapetrr^craTO 2,iK\ia.v oArjv,
r V T '? s VTraTeias ^r) ySao-tXcv?
dAAa KaTo-ap KaXei(r6ai.
(49) Page 103. It is hardly needful to collect examples of
this usage from the New Testament onwards, and indeed one or
two have come incidentally in the extracts which I have already
given. But it is worth noticing how completely the orations of
Dion Chrysostom addressed to Trajan assume the dominion of
the Emperors to be a /SacrtAeia, though (BacriXeia is throughout
pointedly opposed to rvpawi's. In one place in the third oration
(i. 46), after describing the oppressive ruler, Dion says, OVK av
TOV TOLOVTOV up^ovTa rj avTOKpdropa r/ ftaariXfa, TroXv &t
LECTURE IV 303
rvpawov Kal Xevcrr^pa, ws TTOTC Trposewrev 6 ATroAAtov TOV
Tvpawov. In another place in the second oration (i. 37),
he incidentally brings out that solitary position of the Roman
ruler Which was so strikingly enforced by Mr. Goldwin Smith at
the end of his famous review of Mr. Congreve. The good King
is to do this and that for the public good, Trpos 8e TOUS oAAov?
/focriAeas, ef rives otpa etev, d/uAAao'&JU ircpl r^s aperies. The
difference between this writer and one so much later as John
Lydus is the difference between a Greek rhetorician speaking in
a loose way of things as he practically found them, and a Roman
lawyer, Who happened to write in Greek, but who still dealt with
the legal and historical side of things from a purely Roman point
of view.
(50) Page 104. John Lydus (i. 4) points out the wearing of
the diadem and the royal robes as an innovation of Diocletian,
adding that he thereby lirl TO /3ao*iAtxov rj tdXrjOcs cltrflv CTTI TO
rpci/fev. Compare Aurelius Victor, Caesares, 39.
(51) Page 104. The word regnum is applied to the imperial
rule, even by Tacitus, though it would seem always with some-
what of sarcasm. Thus in the Annals (xii. 66) Locusta is said
to have been " diu inter instrumenta regni habita," and again
(xiii. 14) it is said of Pallas that "velut arbitrum regni agebat."
But much earlier (Annals, i. 4) Tacitus speaks of the house of
Augustus as " domus regnatrix " seemingly without any sarcastic
meaning.
(52) Page 104. The name regia is more than once applied by
Tacitus to the Imperial dwelling. Thus in the Annals (xi. 29)
Callistus, the former favourite of Cains, is described under
Claudius as " prioris quoque regies peritus," and in xiv. 13 it is
Raid of the palace of Nero " deterrimus quisque, quorum non
alia regia fecundior exstitit." Here again there probably is
sarcasm, but we must remember that the house of the Emperor
was formally regia in his character of High Pontiff. If we leap
from Tacitus to the next Latin writer who deserves the name of
historian, we find, in the very first chapter of Ammiumis which
i preserved to us, the word regia, and pretty well every other
derivative of rtx, used as a matter of course, but re* itself never.
304 NOTES ON
(53) Page 104. In the opening chapter of Ammianus (xiv. 1)
the name regina is twice applied to the Empress Eusebia. So
again xvi. 10. So in xiv. 1 we read of " regia stirps," and in
xix. 11 of " sella regalis."
(54) Page 104. It is quite certain that no Emperor is ever
called rex by any Latin writer. That the title was given to
Hannibalianus the nephew of Constantino is also quite certain
(see the opening chapter of Ammianus and the Article in the
Dictionary of Biography). At any time before the decree of
Antoninus Caracalla, one would have said that he was meant to
be King, not over Rome or Romans, but, like the sons of the
Triumvir Antonius, over some of the provinces of the Roman
Empire. But this seems hardly to apply, now that all the
subjects of the Empire were alike Romans. Still this title stands
quite by itself, and it is most striking to find the word rex never
applied to the Emperor, though all its derivatives are so freely
applied to his belongings.
(55) Page 104. For the Roman appointments of Alaric see
Zosimos, v. 5, 31, vi. 7.
(56) Page 104. The consulship of Chlodwig comes from
Gregory of Tours, ii. 38. " Igitur Chlodovechus ab Anastasio
imperatore codicillos de consulatu accepit, et in basilica beati
Martini tunica blatea indutus est et chlamyde, imponens vertici
diadema." He was saluted by the people " tanquam consul aut
Augustus." The confusion between Consul and Augustus, in
the mind either of Chlodwig or of Gregory, may remind one of
the like confusion in the mind of Rienzi, when he called himself
" candidatus Spiritus Sancti miles, Nicolaus severus et clemens,
Liberator Urbis, Zelator Italiae, amator Orbis, et Tribunus
Augustus." Cronica Sanese, 1347. Muratori, xv. 118. Chron-
icon Estense, ib. 441.
(57) Page 104. SeeBryce, Holy Roman Empire, 404. Joseph
the Second was the last who bore this title, having been elected
in 1764, during the lifetime of his father, and becoming Emperor-
elect on his death the next year.
(58) Page 104. See Growth of the English Constitution,
17, 169.
LECTURE IV 305
(59) Page 105. So the Peterborough Chronicle, 449. " Fram
fan Wodne awoc eall ure cynecynn, and Su^Sanhymbra eac."
The contrary process seems to be set forth by King Alfred when
he tells the story of Odysseus and Kirke ; " J>a wees Jjaer Apollines
dohtor, lobes suna, se lob wses hiora cyning, and licette Jjset he
sceolde bion se hehsta god, and ]?aet dysige folc him gelyfde,
forj?am ^Se he wses cyne-cynnes, and hi nyston nsenne ojjerne god
on Jjaene timan, buton hiora cyningas hi weorpodon for godas.
Da sceolde fses lobes feeder bion eac god, J>ses nama waes Saturnus,
and his swa ilce sel cine hi haefdon for god."
(60) Page 105. See Norman Conquest, i. 593.
(61) Page 105. See \Vaitz, Deutsche Verfassungsgeschichte, i.
68, 166.
(62) Page 106. See above, note 76 on Lecture III.
(63) Page 106. See Growth of the English Constitution,
34, 171.
(64) Page 107. All people, save those who fancy that the
name King has something to do with a Tartar KJian or with a
" canning " or " cunning " man, are agreed that the English
Cyning and the Sanscrit Ganaka both come from the same root,
from that widely spread root whence comes our own cyn or kin
and the Greek yo/os. The only question is whether there is any
connexion between cyning and ganaka closer than that which is
implied in their both coming from the same original root. That
is to say, are we to suppose that cyning and ganaka are strictly
the same word, common to Sanscrit and Teutonic, or is it enough
to think that cyning is an independent formation, made after the
Teutons had separated themselves from the common stock 1 The
former view is maintained by Professor Max Miiller, in the later
editions of the Science of Language (ii. 285), with an array of
German scholarship which it is hard to resist. On the other
hand it is equally hard for an Englishman, looking to his own
language only, to resist the obvious derivation of cyning as the
direct offspring of cyn. See Norman Conquest, i. 583, Growth
of the English Constitution, 171. The difference between the
two derivations is not very remote, as the cyn is the ruling idea
x
306 NOTES ON
in either case ; but if we make the word immediately cognate
with ganaka, we bring in a notion about "the father of his
people," which has no place, if we simply derive cyning from
cyn.
(65) Page 107. See the pedigrees of ^Ethelwulf in the
Chronicles under the year 855. They go straight up to Woden,
and thence to Noah and Adam ; but Woden is not made to
spring from Shem, Ham, or Japheth, but from Sceaf the son of
Noah, who was born in the ark.
(66) Page 109. Joshua ix. 2.
(67) Page 109. Genesis xxxvi. 14. The Hebrew *VlvH, from
S gens, answers however better to cyning than to Jwretoga.
(68) Page 110. See the instances which I have collected in
Note K in the Appendix to the first Volume of the Norinan
Conquest, and at page 172 of the Growth of the English Con-
stitution. Another passage about the Goths will be found in
Zosimos, iv. 34. Frithigern is ^ye/xwv, while he speaks of
' A.0a.vapi\6v T TTOIVTOS TOV /SacrtXfiov TUV ^KvOtav ap^ovra
(69) Page 110. This is the argument assumed throughout
Dante's great treatise De Monarchia. See Historical Essays,
First Series.
(70) Page 110. See Norman Conquest, i. 26. Compare for
Mercia also the account of the battle of Winfield, where Penda
fell " and xxx cynebearna mid him, and fa wseron sume ciningas."
This last notice comes from the Peterborough Chronicler only.
We may again compare the description given by Ammianus (xvi.
12) of the Alemanni at the battle of Strassburg. Chnodomarius,
the Bretwalda, so to speak, comes first ; then some other chiefs
by name ; " Hos sequebantur potestate proximi Keges numero
quinque, Regalesque [probably ^Ethelings] decem." The Batavians
also in the same account have several Kings.
(71) Page 111. See Growth of the English Constitution,
172.
(72) Page 111. See the famous passage in the Iliad, ii. 188.
LECTURE IV 307
(73) Page 112. I shall have to speak more fully of this in
my last lecture.
(74) Page 112. According to the famous doctrine of the Civil
Law (Inst. i. 2. 6.) " quod principi placuit, legis habet vigorem ;
quum lege regia, quae de ejus imperio lata est, populus ei in
eum omne imperium suum et potestatem concedat." With this
lawyers' theory of the origin of the Empire one may well com-
pare the pithy account given by Tacitus (Ann. i. 2) of its real
origin : " Caesar dux reliquus, posito Triumviri nomine, Consulem
se ferens et ad tuendam plebem tribunicio jure contentum ; ubi
militem donis, populum annona, cunctos dulcedine otii pellexit,
insurgere paullatim, munia Senatus, magistratuum, legum, in se
trahere, nullo adversante."
(75) Page 112. See Norman Conquest, i. 584. It is worth
while to compare the definition given by Suidas under the word
/3aeriA.evs. BatrtAcvs /tey as 6 TWV Ilepcraiv. TOVS Se aAAovs irposcri-
Beo-av KO.I TW ap^ofifvwv TO. ovd/xara, oiov AaKcSai/idvioi, Ma/ceSdvcs.
He then goes on to distinguish /3ao-tA.evs and rvpawos, and to
point out how Pindar and others had applied the name (3acriX.fvf(n~r)Ke. They
had just been elected Generals by the army, much as Camillus
(Livy v. 46) is elected Dictator by the Boman Assembly at Veii,
though the circumstances of the Boman migration to Veii are
more like those of the Athenian migration to Salamis.
LECTURE V 313
(15) Page 129. For the ^Etolian Federal Assembly held
under the walls of the besieged city of Medeon in B.C. 231, see
History of Federal Government, i. 413.
(16) Page 130. In the Teutonic mythology a God might die,
as appears from the famous case of Balder. In the Greek
mythology there is no case of the death of a God, though the
possibility of such a thing seems implied in one passage of the
Iliad (v. 388), where Ares is spoken of as running a chance of
being killed by the sons of Aloeus.
Kdl vv Kfv iv6' iir6\oiTO 'Ap'jjy, OTOS voAe/xoto,
Cl ,UT7 /ATlTpVlT], TTplKa\\7]S 'Hfpi&OlO.,
-iiyyti\tv, & 8' itK\(\f/
rap6fj.(vov' xaXeiros 5e I 5etet j>rer wees an cyning Jws nama Aulixes,
se hiefde twa )>ioda under J>am kasere. )5a Sioda wwron hatena
ISacige and Retie, and Jues kaseres nama wies Agamemnon."
314 NOTES ON
(22) Page 132. Iliad, xvi. 434.
(23) Page 132. Odyssey, ii. 26.
ovli iro0' fifitrtpri ayop^i yfvtr' ot>8 &&UIKOS,
i ov 'OSvfffffvs Slos t&i\ Kol\s iv\ rnvai.
(24) Page 133. Tacitus, Germania, 11. "Si displicuit sen-
tentia, fremitu adspernantur ; sin placuit, frameas concutiunt.
Honoratissimum adsensus genus est, armis laudare."
(25) Page 133. Thucydides, i. 87. Kptvovcri yap (3ay Kal ov
(26) Page 134. I will refer only to two examples, one of
an Assembly which was held, and another of one which was
not held, but which proves almost more than any of those
which were held. Kassandros, having Olympias in his power,
but having promised to spare her life, first holds an Assembly
in which she is condemned to death in her absence ; then, when
she still demands a public trial, he shrinks from the effect which
he knew that her presence would have upon the Assembly,
and causes her to be put to death privately. Diod. xix. 51.
6 8e KacrcravSpos .... irpoeTp&j/aTO TOVS oucetovs Ttov a.VTfjpijfJi.ev(av vrr
'OXv/x,7ria8os (V Kowr) TUV MaKtSovwv fKKXrja-ia Karrjyopelv TT}S
Trpocipr]p.fvr]s yuvaiKos. a>v Trot^o-avrwv TO Trposra^^ev, KCU T^S 'OAv/i-
TriaSos ovTf irapova-rjs ovrc e^ovcn/s TOUS aTroXoy^croficvovs, ot /xev
MaxeSdves KarfyivuKTKOV avTrjs Oavarov .... v\a(3eiTO yap afjuj. KOL
TO TTfpl avnjv aiu>p.a. Kal TO rwv MaxcSovtuv ev/AtTa/JoAov. T^? 8'
'O\v/X7ria8os ov ap.vr]<; euf(r6ai, Tovvavri'ov 8' tTot^s OVOT;S fv
TTOLCTL Ma>cc8do-i KpiO^vai, 6 Kao-o*av8pos o(3r)6fitAi7T7rou 7T/3OS a7rav TO l^vos fvfpyf(rLopa TTCUTI TO urov, icaTa 8f TTJV dft'wcriv, d>s c/caoTO?
v TO) fv8oKLfj.fi . . . cA.ev$epa)s 8f ra, re Trpos TO KOIVOV
Kol is TTJV Trpos aAA^Aovs Toiv Ka0' fjfJLfpav tTriTT/Scv/xaTwv vTT
ou Si 1 opy^s TOV 7reA.as, i KaO' rjoovT)v TL Spa, l^ovrcs, ovof
/icv \VTrtjpas Of Trj oi^ei a\0rjo6va^ 7rposri$/xevoi. He then goes
on to speak of obedience to the laws and magistrates as one
of the consequences of popular government. Modern writers
very often charge democracy with doing the exact opposite
to all these things, and especially with moulding all men accord-
ing to one pattern. But it is commonly very hard to make
out what modern writers mean by democracy, and it seems likely,
on the whole, that Perikles knew best.
(32) Page 139. I have referred to the debate in the Spartan
Assembly recorded by Thucydides, i. 67-88. The body debating
is the general Assembly of the Spartan citizens (t'AAoyos o-wv
avrwv 6 cio>0w), as distinguished both from the smaller bodies
in the Spartan Commonwealth and from the general Assembly
of the Lacedaemonian allies which appears in c. 119. The
Corinthians and others are heard, and the Athenian Ambassadors
are heard in answer. Then the Spartans debate among them-
selves ; but the narrative seems to imply that no one spoke
316 NOTES ON
except the two great official persons, the King Archidamos
and the Ephor Sthenelaidas, and the latter seems to wind up the
debate somewhat suddenly by his official authority. It should
be noticed that, after the cry of Aye and Nay (see above, note
25) the Ephor professed the historian hints that he merely
professed (/JouAo/zevos aurovs av(pw<5 aTroScocw/xe'vovs r-rjv yvtapyv 4s
TO TToAt/xeiv fj.a\Xov opp.rj(rKc p.iv yap ru?
are 8 IK(IVV irpo^rjKovrtav cr^tVtv oWtov,
KCU TWV oTrovSap;(iu>VTfc>v fjM\L O.VTW
iraiptav StSoxriv avrcj) TO avrov Sopv.
326 NOTES ON
(17) Page 170. The Roman clients would be in old English
phrase not so much tfiegns as loaf-eaters. The relation of the
loaf-eater was surely a variety, though a very low variety, of the
comitatits ; and even a churl might have his loaf -eaters, as appears
from the 25th law of u^thelberht : " Gif man ceorlses hlaf-setan
ofslsehS, vi scillingum gebete."
(18) Page 173. At Bern the young patrician was literally
apprenticed to political life by the singular institution of the
Ausserstand, a copy of the real commonwealth with councils and
magistrates of its own. The SchultJieiss or chief magistrate of
the mimic republic was commonly elected a member of the Great
Council of the real one. See the account in Coxe's Travels in
Switzerland, ii. 231. In his day, as in the earlier days of Bishop
Burnet, travellers did not disdain to study the institutions of
the country.
(19) Page 174. I have before me, in a Geograplmclues statis-
tisch-topograpliiscJies Lexicon von Franken (Ulm, 1801), iv. 46,
a list of the twenty-three patrician families of Niirnberg, three
of them had been admitted as lately as 1788, but none of these
" novi homines " seem to have actually held seats in the Senate.
(20) Page 176. Numbers xxxv. 9 ; Deuteronomy iv. 41 ;
xix. 2 ; Joshua xx. 2. The right is however by the Hebrew
law strictly confined to the slayer who hated not in times past
the man whom he slew. It would therefore not cover the case
of the old Teutonic Fcehde.
(21) Page 176. The laws of Alfred (42) set forth the general
principle that no man is to appeal to force till he has tried legal
means ; " Eac we be6daS, se mon se J>e his gefan ham-sittendne
wite, ]?et he ne feohte per j?am J>e him ryhtes bidde.'"' Then
follow a number of rules regulating the cases in which private
war is allowed, the last of which is, if he finds a man with his
wife, daughter, sister, or mother ; " And mon mot feohtan
orwige, gif he gemete'S b'Serne set his tewum wife betynedum
durum oft'Se under anre reon, o'S'Se set his dehter sewumborenre,
oftfte set his swister [sewum]-borenre, o^SSe set his medder, }e
wjere t6 {fewum wife forgifen his f seder." The Athenian law on
this subject comes out in the First Oration of Lysias, where the
slayer of Eratosthenes defends himself on the ground of the
LECTURE VI 327
adultery of the slain man with his wife. The case is more
remarkable because Eratosthenes offered money, which the
husband refused, determining, as he said, to carry out the law ;
OVK r)fj.ia-{$rJTt, u> dvSpes, aXX.' w/toAoyci dStKCtv, /cat OTTCDS p.tv fir)
aTroOdvy rjvriftoXfL KCU IKCTCUCV, aTTOTiVeiv S' CTTOI/XOS rjv xp?;/xaTa. eyw
Sc TU> fifv fKfivov Tip.rma.Ti ov (rvve^wpow, TOV 8e TT/S TrdXews vop.ov
rj^iow eivai Kvpiwrfpov, KO.L Tavrrfv IAa/3ov T^V SIKTJV, rjv v/tets SiKaiora-
TT;V etvat rryr]6voio
ttoiv^v, fi ov -xaitibs I8{|aro TtOrttwTos'
ical p 6 fjitv fv S'fi/j.tf yucVet ai''Tof<, iroAX' airoricraj,
TOV 8t T" ipTfrvfTtu cpo5i7j Kal 6vfj.us i
(26) Page 178. In Iliad, vi. 45, Adrostos craves his life of
Menelaos and offers a ransom cru 8' aia 8c'ai aTroiva Menelaos
is inclined to spare him, but Agamemnon steps in and slays
Adrcstos himself, and the poet approves the act.
Sis tiirwv Xrpftytv a$f\v rpoTTcov f.Tnp.f\ovp.fvoi, auTovoyuwv Se p-dXicrra epywv
VOL, fire op.opoi ovres Trpos TOV Kara TO. fioptia TOV "IOT/DOV
p.(Ta TOV orpaTw iayyew TroXXw KOI Swtxynci /-ta^s 7ratpecr$ai, fjOeai
Tf. ToTs Kt TO. TTCLpO. (TpOl'TeS, Kt'vWV KO.I
<77Ticras rrtv avnjv opav iv rot?
dyaA/iao-iv, wTrXwr/xeviTV KoCplov rots tTTiovtriv eviOTatr^at /x.e'AAov(rav, rots
TrpocoTwra rov 'A^iAAc'a TOV ^pai TOIOITOV otov airrov TOIS
cSct^cv "O/xr;ps cetween, 196- 19S.
i, value of his legend, 295.
344
INDEX
ANDOKIDfeS.
Andokides, speech of Lysias against,
332.
Andorra, commonwealth of, 309.
Angul and Dan, legend of, 335.
Anointing, introduction of the cere-
mony, 107 ; its political effect,
108.
Antioch, recovered by Nikephoros,
227.
Antoninus Caracalla, effect of his
edict, 259.
Animations', Frankish, answer to
the English Thegnas, 167.
Appeal of murder, its origin and
abolition, 177.
Aquce Sexticc, its influence in Gaul,
38.
Arch, invented more than once,
20.
Architecture, Greek, origin of, 227.
Archons at Athens, their origin and
history, 96, 99, 100, 296; called
kings, 297 ; not presidents of the
assembly, 298.
Apxa>v &a