The 'human family' then seems re-established as something more than a platform phrase; and separatists (who are always with us) have had to fall back upon another criterion of disunity.

THE UNITY OF MANKIND AS A RATIONAL ANIMAL

Omitting language for a moment (which since first telling of the 'Tower of Babel' story has somewhat fallen from grace as a symptom of unity among mankind), or rather, subsuming it as one of the most essential exhibitions of rationality, and indeed its chief instrument, we come to Man's unity as a creature possessed of reason, and expressing this reasoning habit in specific modes of living, under whatever external surroundings. These being almost infinitely various, it is not always easy to compare examples of Man's reaction to them. For proof of the uniformity of human reasoning, indeed, we have to begin almost from an animal plane. 'Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same summer and winter, as a Christian is?' And not only is men's hunger, and their sensitiveness to 'the same summer and winter' similar: their ways of satisfying hunger, their conduct of the food-quest, their elementary organizations 'for the sake of maintaining life', as Aristotle expressed it, exhibit one mental type throughout. In the domestication of nature's gifts it is the same: in the fashioning of implements and weapons, the improvisation of clothing and shelter, the almost instinctive impulse to 'play with fire' which repels other animals. Style and finish may vary, and do vary widely from one province of culture to another; but in their last mechanical analysis, a spade is a spade all the world over, and a celt a celt.

It was the service of the late General Pitt-Rivers in this country, and of Klemm more laboriously abroad, to establish this aspect of the 'Evolution of Culture' beyond controversy: as it was the work of Boucher de Perthes, and of Sir John Evans and Sir John Lubbock to proceed in the reverse direction, from a criterion of utility to a hypothesis of design, and the conclusion that certain stones, of reputedly prehuman antiquity, must be the work of human hands, geared to human brains like ours. Tylor's wider range of observation, conspicuously supplemented by other work of Lubbock, embraced all human activities in one formula of comparison, which is indeed as old as Thucydides.[4] We can infer, that is, something about early stages of an advanced culture from the present-day practices of savagery.

Yet, across this 'primitive culture', to use a phrase which has become classical, so reasonable, and therewith so full of uniformities, in its intimate interplay of hand and tongue with brain, patches of shadow fall; a chaos of such incredible absurdities and (in the widest sense) of 'barbarities', that the charitable hypothesis that here and there man has lost his way and just stopped thinking hardly seems adequate to account for things, and writers like Lévy-Bruhl are provoked to the pessimist guess that there can be a savage logic which is different from ours and yet is 'logical' in some coherent sense; which stets verneint the conclusions, and even the axioms, which are clear as day to us; and is a 'knowledge of evil' side by side with the knowledge of good.

But examples of this 'primitive thought', when we come to analyse them, all seem to resolve themselves into one or other of the ordinary sorts of fallacy, as our own logic-books expound them. If the study of them proves anything at all, it is the familiar aphorism that, while there is only one right way of doing and thinking, there are countless ways of going wrong. Among the most reasonable people (at their highest) that the world has yet seen, there were some of the worst miscarriages of reason and of morals; and throughout their great centuries there was no word either for the devil or for sin in their language. For the Greek all human wrongdoing came under the one simple category of [Greek: hamartia], 'making a mistake', or better 'making a miss'. It is the slang of target-practice, for the correlative [Greek: otochazein], used of all happy guesses at truth, is likewise only the word for 'aiming straight'.

But why make mistakes? Why these failures of co-ordination between design and execution, between nature's truth and man's theory and practice? Why this declining from the best into sloppy or antiquated work, to name only two main sorts of technological fallacy? Again the answer comes down, past Lucretius, from the Ionian physicist. It is only in superficial appearance that 'though reason is common to all, most men live as if they had a way of thinking of their own',[5] Heraclitus' momentary despair anticipating Lévy-Bruhl almost verbally. Once penetrate, with Heraclitus himself, below the surface, and 'all men have it in them to understand themselves and to think straight'.[6] It is failure to think, not some distinct and illogical sort of thinking, that is the cause of the trouble: the lapse of that 'organized common sense' which is the content of all 'science'.

Such disorganization of common sense, 'idiotic' thinking, in the Heraclitan sense of an [Greek: idia phronêsis], can be as cumulative, fallacy on fallacy, and as elaborately wrong, as the fabric of knowledge is cumulatively and elaborately right. 'Hath this man sinned, or his parents, that he was born blind?' That is the tragedy of primitive culture: for the brains are there and the eyes; only they have never seen anything straight, because in the world they were bred up in there was nothing left straight to be seen.

Lucretius hit upon half the trouble when he referred the organized absurdities of his contemporaries to hereditary fear: which in the last analysis is a derangement of the higher activities extending to abdication. Its onset is an ataxy; and its culmination a paralysis. In its mental aspect it is failure of the Will-to-know; acceptance of an inferiority to which ignorance consigns us.

The other half of the trouble, less clearly diagnosed by Lucretius, but detected, as we have seen, by Heraclitus, is hereditary pride, based on ignorance no less than is Lucretian fear. It is the 'lie-in-the-soul', the conviction, assailed by Socrates and before his time as well as after, that we know how things stand, when in fact we do not. Like fear, in its mental aspect, it is a failure of the Will-to-know; once again, an acceptance of the inferior status of the ignorant.