To come now to the last subject of this volume, the history of government. Complicated as are the political arrangements of civilised nations, their study is made easier by their simple forms being already found in savage and barbaric life. The foundation of society, as has been already seen, is the self-government of each family. Its authority is apt to be vested in the head of the household; thus among low barbaric tribes in the Brazilian forests, the father may do as he pleases with his own wives and children, even selling them for slaves, and the neighbours have no right or wish to interfere. Even what civilised nations now take as a matter of course, that every human being coming into the world has a right to live, is scarcely recognised by the lower races. In such a life of hardship as the Australians and many savages lead, new-born children are often put out of the way from sheer need, because the parents have already as many mouths as they can feed. That among such tribes this comes of hardness of life, rather than hardness of heart, is often seen when the parents will go through fire and water to save the very child they were doubting about, a few weeks before, whether it should live or die. Even where the struggle for existence is not so severe, the wretched custom of infanticide remains still common in the world. Nothing more clearly shows that European nations came up from a barbaric stage than the law which the ancient Romans had in common with our Teutonic ancestors, that it was for the father of the family to say whether the new-born child should be brought up or exposed. Once become a member of the household, the child has a firmer assurance of life; and when the young barbarian grows up to be a warrior, and becomes himself the head of a new household, he is usually a free man. But the oldest Roman law shows the head of the family ruling with a strictness hardly imaginable to our modern minds, for the father might chastise or put to death his grown-up sons, give them in marriage or divorce them, and even sell them. With the advance of civilization, in Rome as elsewhere, the sons gradually gained their rights of person and property; and in comparing old-world life with our own, it is plainly seen how Christianity, looking not to family rights but to individual souls, tended toward personal freedom. With all the growth of individual freedom in modern life, the best features of family despotism remain in force; it is under parental authority that children are trained for their future duties, and the law is careful how it gives the child personal rights against the parent, lest it should weaken the very cement which binds society together. As, however, the family ceased to be so perfect a little kingdom within itself, the individual became responsible for his own doings. We have seen how, in rude society, when a crime is committed, the family of the aggrieved take vengeance on the culprit’s family. Modern ideas of justice may teach us that this is wrong, that it is punishing the innocent for the guilty. But in the lower barbaric life it is practically the best way to keep order, and to those who live under it it seems right and natural, as where, among the Australians, when one of a family has done a murder the others take it as a matter of course that they are guilty too. Far from this idea being confined to savages, the student becomes familiar with it in the law of ancient nations, such as Greece and Rome. Here it will be enough to quote the remarkable passage from the Hebrew law which at once records what the old principle was, and reforms it by bringing in the ideas of higher jurisprudence:—“The fathers shall not be put to death for the children, neither shall the children be put to death for the fathers: every man shall be put to death for his own sin.” (Deut. xxiv. 16.)
Wherever the traveller in wild regions meets a few families roaming together over the desert, or comes upon a cluster of huts by a stream in the tropical forest, he may find, if he looks closely enough, some rudiments of government; for there is business which concerns the whole little community, such as a camping-ground to be chosen, or a fishery quarrel to be settled with the next tribe down the river. Even among the Greenlanders, as little governed a people as almost any in the world, it was noticed that when several families lived together all the winter, one weather-wise old fisherman would have the north end of the snow-house for his place and be appointed to look after the inmates, taking care about their keeping the snow walls in repair, and going out and coming in together so as not to waste heat; also when they went out in hunting parties an experienced pathfinder would be chosen as leader. It is common to find among rude tribes such a headman or chief, chosen as the most important or shrewdest; but he has little or no actual authority over the families, and gets his way by persuasion and public opinion. Naturally such a headman’s family is of consequence already, or, if not, he makes them so, and thus there is a tendency for his office to become hereditary. In tribes formed under the rule of female kinship, where the chief’s own son may be out of the succession, the new chosen chief will probably be a younger brother or a nephew on the mother’s side. Under the rule of succession on the father’s side, which is so much more familiar to us, the very growth of the family brings on a patriarchal government. Suppose a single household to move out into the wilds and found a new settlement, it begins under the rule of the father, who, as new huts are built round the first home, remains head of the growing clan; but as old age comes on, his eldest son more and more acts in his name, and at his death will be recognised as succeeding him in the headship of the community. Here then is seen the rise of the hereditary chief or patriarch of the tribe, first in rank as representing the ancestor, and with more or less of real authority. But here also there is a practical power of setting the successor aside if he is too timid or wilful or dull, when perhaps his uncle or brother will be put in his place, though the line of succession is not set aside by this. The patriarchal system extends far on in civilization. It is not confined to one particular race or nation, but may at this day be studied alike among the brown hill-men of India and the negroes of West Africa. To us it is especially well known from the Old Testament, which shows it in the form it takes in a pastoral nation, and which still may be seen with little change among the Arabs of the desert, whose clans and tribes are governed by their patriarchs, the sheykhs or old men. Not less does it lie at the foundation of the politics of the Aryan race, where its remains may still be traced in the village communities of India and Russia, the village elder presiding in the council of “white-heads” being the modern representative of the earlier patriarch with the chiefs of younger branches of the clan around him. Under such mild rule, people of few wants may prosper in time of peace, in the kindly communism which is possible where there are no rich and no poor. The weak point of such a society is that it can hardly advance, for civilization is at a standstill where it is regulated by ancestral custom administered by great-grandfathers. Everywhere in the world, in war some stronger and more intelligent rule than this is needed and found. The changes which have shaped the descendants of wild hordes into civilized nations have been in great measure the work of the war-chief.
When among such uncultured tribes war breaks out, the peace-chief is pushed aside and a leader chosen, or in warlike tribes the war-chief may be the acting head at all times. Of course he is a tried warrior, and his endurance may even be put to a special examination, as when the Caribs would test a candidate for war-chief by mercilessly flogging and scratching him, smoking him in a hammock over a fire of green leaves, or burying him up to the middle in a nest of stinging-ants. We even find in America the principle of competitive examination for king, when Chilian tribes would choose as their chief the man who could lift the biggest tree on his shoulder and carry it longest. In these rude countries the change is wonderful when war turns the loose crowd into an army under a leader, with powers of life and death to enforce discipline. When Martius the naturalist was travelling through a Brazilian forest with a Miranha chief, they came to a fig-tree where the skeleton of a man was bound to the trunk with cords of creepers, and the chief grimly explained that this was one of his men who had disobeyed orders by not summoning a neighbouring tribe to help against the invading Umauas, and he had him tied up there and shot to death with arrows. In barbarous countries the tribe-chief and the war-chief may be found side by side; but when the power of the bow and spear once asserts itself, it is apt to grow further. Throughout history, war gives the bold and able leader a supremacy which may nominally end with the campaign, but which tends to pass into dictatorship for life. Military government in civil affairs is, in fact, despotism; and if the military leader can thus become the tyrant of his own land, still more can he rule with a rod of iron a conquered country. The negro kingdom of Dahome, the result of two centuries of barbaric military rule, is an astounding specimen of what a people will submit to from a despot whom they regard as a kind of deity; they approach him grovelling on all-fours, and throwing dust over their heads; the whole nation are his slaves, whose lives he takes at will; the women are all his, to give or sell; the land is all his, and none owns anything but at his pleasure. The kings of Asiatic nations have been theoretically as absolute as this, but practically in advancing civilization the king makes or sanctions laws which bind himself and his successors, making society more fixed and life more tolerable. Also, as soon as religion becomes a power in the state, it becomes joined or mixed with civil and military government. Thus among negroes the high-priest and war-chief may be the two heads of the government, while the Incas of Peru, as descendants and representatives of the divine sun, ruled their nation with paternal despotism which settled for the people what they should do and eat and wear, and whom they should marry. In such a kingdom royalty must be hereditary in the divine ruling family. Indeed, monarchy, however gained, tends to become hereditary, and especially the military usurper will found a dynasty on the model of a patriarchal chief. Thus sovereignty may be elective, hereditary, military, ecclesiastical, and, difficult as is the history of kingdoms, some combination of these causes can always be traced in them.
The effects of war in consolidating a loosely formed society are described by travellers who have seen a barbaric tribe prepare to invade an enemy or defend their own borders. Provisions and property are brought into the common stock; the warriors submit their unruly wills to a leader, and private quarrels are sunk in a larger patriotism. Distant clans of kinsfolk come together against the common enemy, and neighbouring tribes with no such natural union make an alliance, their chiefs serving under the orders of a leader chosen by them all. Here are seen in their simplest forms two of the greatest facts in history,—the organised army, where the several forces are led by their own captains under a general, and the confederation of tribes, such as in higher civilisation brings on political federations of states like those in Greece and Switzerland. Out of such alliances of tribes, when they last beyond the campaign, there arise nations, where often, as in old Mexico, the head of the strongest tribe will become king. Tribes which thus unite are apt to be of common race, speaking kindred dialects, for this is everywhere a natural bond of union; and when they have allied themselves into one people, and come to bear a common name, such as Dorians or Hellenes, they willingly take up the old patriarchal idea, and imagine themselves more closely of one nation or “birth” than they really are, even setting up, as we have seen ([p. 389]), a fictitious as a national ancestor. Events take a different course, but with a somewhat like effect, when some Kafir leader conquers other tribes around, and, setting himself above them all, forces the conquered chiefs to bring him tribute and warriors to fight his battles. This is empire on a small scale and with rude surroundings, but on the same principles as that of a Cæsar or a Napoleon. Thus one understands why in the early history of nations it is so inextricably difficult to make out how far any people have grown up from a single unmixed tribe, or have been built up by alliance and conquest. What shows how this piecing together of nations must have gone on, is the number and variety of their gods. While a tribe grows of itself, the names and worship of the same tribe-gods will be a bond of union in all the clans, and even when they move far off they will sometimes go on pilgrimage to the shrines of their old home. But when peoples amalgamate, their different gods are kept up, as when the Peruvians gave places to the gods of conquered tribes under their own great deities. Every district in ancient Egypt shows by its varied combination of gods how many little states and local religions went to make up the great despotism and hierarchy. It was plainly through this growth of nations, which had been going on we know not how long before history began, that the higher civilization of mankind arose. Scattered families of barbarians in a land where there is still elbow room may thrive without strong government; but when men live in populous nations and crowded cities, there has to be public order. That this political order came out of military order cannot be doubted. War not only put into the hands of the sovereign the power over a whole nation, but his army served as his model on which to organize his nation. It is one of the plainest lessons of history that through military discipline mankind were taught to submit to authority and act in masses under command. Egypt and Babylon, with military system pervading not only the standing army, but the orders of priests and civilians, developed industry and wealth highest in the ancient world, and were the very founders of literature and science. They built up for future ages the framework of government, which we freer moderns of our own will submit ourselves to for our own benefit. A constitutional government, whether called republic or kingdom, is an arrangement by which the nation governs itself by means of the machinery of a military despotism.
As society in tribes and nations became a more complex system, it early began to divide into classes or ranks. If we look for an example of the famous first principle of the United States, “that all men are created equal,” we shall in fact scarcely find such equality except among savage hunters and foresters, and by no means always then. The greatest of all divisions, that between freeman and slave, appears as soon as the barbaric warrior spares the life of his enemy when he has him down, and brings him home to drudge for him and till the soil. How low in civilization this begins appears by a slave caste forbidden to bear arms forming part of several of the lower American tribes. How thoroughly slavery was recognized as belonging to old-world society may be seen by the way it formed part of the Hebrew patriarchal system, where the man-servant and maid-servant are reckoned as a man’s wealth just before his ox and his ass. It was no less so under Roman law, as is evident from the very word family, which at first meant not the children but the slaves (famulus). We live in days when the last remains of slavery are disappearing from the higher nations; but though the civilized world has outgrown the ancient institution, the benefits which early society gained from it still remain. It was through slave labour that agriculture and industry increased, that wealth accumulated, and leisure was given to priests, scribes, poets, philosophers, to raise the level of men’s minds. Out of slavery probably arose the later custom of hired service, the very name of which, as derived from servus, a slave, tells the story of a great social change. The master at first let out his slaves to work for his profit, and then free men found it to their advantage to work for their own profit, so that there grew up the great wage-earning class whose numbers and influence make so marked a difference between ancient and modern society. In all communities, except the smallest and simplest, the freemen divide themselves into ranks. The old Northmen divided men into three classes, “earls, churls, and thralls,” which roughly match what we should now call nobles, freemen, and slaves. Nobles again fall into different orders, especially those who can claim royal blood forming a princely order, and looking down on the chieftains and officers of the army, state, and church who fill the lower ranks of nobility.
As nations become more populous, rich, and intelligent, the machinery of government has to be improved. The old rough-and-ready methods no longer answer, and the division of labour has to be applied to politics. Thus, one of the chief’s early duties was to be judge. A Kafir chieftain will make it his business to hear suits between his people; each side brings him a gift of oxen. At higher levels of civilization the Eastern monarch sits in the gate of justice; and it was so among the ancient Germans, where the king sat crowned and gave judgment in his own court. It is still the king’s court, but the actual administration has long passed into the hands of professional judges. So with other departments of government. By the time civilization had come to the level of ancient Egypt and Babylon public affairs were administered by officials in grades like an army, who collected the taxes, attended to public works, punished offences, and did justice between man and man. It has just been noticed how far a modern nation is worked by an official system similar to that of the ancients, and how we, really among the freest of peoples, preserve the forms of an absolute monarchy, where sovereign power is administered through servants of the Crown down to the exciseman and constable. In the politics of savages and barbarians, the outlines of the civilized system of government already come into view. We have seen how among such rude tribes the chief or king appears, who holds his place in some form through higher nations. Even the consul or president of a republic is a kind of temporary elective king. Of not less antiquity is the senate. The old men squatting round the council fire of an Indian tribe on the prairies have in their way a greater influence than a civilized senate, for where there are no written records and books the old men are the very sources and treasuries of wisdom. In the nations of the world, seats at such councils are given to wise old men, priests and officers of high rank, and heads of great families, so that the two terms senate and house of lords both have their proper meaning, and the two claims of wisdom and rank are more or less combined. With the very beginning of political life appears also the popular assembly. In small tribes the whole community, or at least the freemen, come together. It may be only a forest tribe in Brazil called together by the chief to decide some question of an expedition to net wildfowl or attack a neighbouring tribe, yet solemn form will be observed. There is silence for the orators, and if the assembly approve they will at last cry “good!” or “be it so!” More civilized forms of the assembly of the people may be studied in Freeman’s comparison of the Achaian agora described in the second book of the Iliad, with the “great meeting” held outside London in Edward the Confessor’s time. Even in our own day the great meeting of the people has not disappeared from Europe. The wonderful sight is still to be seen of the people of a Swiss canton gathered together in a wide meadow or market-place to vote Yes or No on the great questions which their supreme authority decides. With the growth of nations the folk-moot or assembly of the whole people, never a good deliberative body, soon becomes unmanageable by mere numbers; but there is a way by which its authority may be kept in a less unwieldy form when the people, no longer able to go themselves, send chosen representatives to act for them. This seems a simple device enough, and indeed the first savage tribe that ever sent a discreet orator to negotiate peace or war on its behalf had seized the idea of a political representative. But in fact it is one of the most remarkable points in political history, how the principle of popular representation has been worked out in England from the time of Simon de Montfort’s famous parliament in the 13th century. It is for historians to discuss how the knights and burgesses who came up to grant the king’s supplies passed into the lower house of parliament as it is now; what has to be noticed here is the change which, while the huge promiscuous assembly of the people shrank into an aristocratic upper house, gave us a new elective popular body, the house of commons. It is not too much to say that no event in English history has had so great an effect in shaping the course of modern civilization. On the whole, looking at what government is coming to among the most enlightened nations, it will be seen that it attains its ends, not so much by casting off the methods of our remote barbaric ancestors, as by improving and regulating them. The administration of the state under the system of sovereign authority, the control of the senate, and the source of political power in the will of the nation itself, are made to work together and restrain one another so as fairly to keep the benefits and neutralize the excesses of all, while the constitution has within it the power of continual reform, so that the machine of government may be ever shaping itself into more perfect fitness to its work.
Here this sketch of Anthropology may close. The examination of man’s age on the earth, his bodily structure and varieties of race and language, has led us on to enquire into his intellectual and social history. In his many-sided life there may be clearly traced a development, which, notwithstanding long periods of stoppage and frequent falling back, has on the whole adapted modern civilized man for a far higher and happier career than his ruder ancestors. In this development, the preceding chapters have shown a difference between low and high nations, which it only remains to put before the reader as a practical moral to the tale of civilization. It is true that both among savage and civilized peoples progress in culture takes place, but not under the same conditions. The savage by no means goes through life with the intention of gathering more knowledge and framing better laws than his fathers. On the contrary, his tendency is to consider his ancestors as having handed down to him the perfection of wisdom, which it would be impiety to make the least alteration in. Hence among the lower races there is obstinate resistance to the most desirable reforms, and progress can only force its way with a slowness and difficulty which we of this century can hardly imagine. Looking at the condition of the rude man, it may be seen that his aversion to change was not always unreasonable, and indeed may often have arisen from a true instinct. With his ignorance of any life but his own, he would be rash to break loose from the old tried machinery of society, to plunge into revolutionary change, which might destroy the present good without putting better in its place. Had the experience of ancient men been larger, they would have seen their way to faster steps in culture. But we civilized moderns have just that wider knowledge which the rude ancients wanted. Acquainted with events and their consequences far and wide over the world, we are able to direct our own course with more confidence toward improvement. In a word, mankind is passing from the age of unconscious to that of conscious progress. Readers who have come thus far need not be told in many words of what the facts must have already brought to their minds—that the study of man and civilization is not only a matter of scientific interest, but at once passes into the practical business of life. We have in it the means of understanding our own lives and our place in the world, vaguely and imperfectly it is true, but at any rate more clearly than any former generation. The knowledge of man’s course of life, from the remote past to the present, will not only help us to forecast the future, but may guide us in our duty of leaving the world better than we found it.